Ronan I sat in the dim hotel room, staring at Lila as she lay across the bed, her hair spilling over the sheets. The yellow lamplight carved shadows under her collarbones. She was scrolling through her phone, nails tapping idly against the screen. Every now and then, her lips curved in a private smile. “Babe,” I said, my voice rough from hours of silence. “We need to talk.” Her eyes flicked up, bored. “About what, Ronan?” I shifted in my seat by the window. Rain streaked down the glass behind me. I ran a hand through my hair, fighting the urge to scream. “Jaxon’s men are still searching for you,” I said slowly, tasting each word before releasing it. “They’re relentless. Talon has his trackers on full alert, and Cassian… he’s like a fucking bloodhound.” She sighed, tossing her phone onto the nightstand. “And?” “And I think you should leave Morrien. Leave the region entirely. Go to another pack territory. Lay low until this blows over.” Her gaze sharpened, slicing into me. “You
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