Marvel Ronan Novels & Stories

Not after meeting him. “So, rumour has it that the reason why Ren hides from his own Pack members, is because at night, he turns into a possessed demons,” Mabel says, that smile on her face expressing how much she’s enjoying terrorising these girls. “And he has so many people hired not to do his work for him, but because he sneaks in here, and eats them...One and a time.” A girl beside me covers her face. She seems young, and awfully impressionable.

Ravan: Greek god like body and sharp facial features , anybody would mistake him for being a super model however he is a killing machine, he is ruthless, brutal, cold and heartless who shows no mercy on his prey, he makes them suffer before killing them in deadliest way possible, Ravan Works for the only mafia in India Shabbir Shaikh, who solely owns whole underworld of India, Ravan runs every illegal bushiness of shabbir from extortion, Drugs smuggling, human trafficking , international smuggling to even KILLING , Every gangster wets their pants just hearing Ravan’s name, Every politician is under his command, police fears to even lodge an complaints against him, Media avoid every news rel

No injuries beyond bruises she could already feel blooming beneath her skin. The door opened without warning. Ronan Crowe walked in as he’d always been meant to. No armor. No visible weapons. Dark clothes cut clean and deliberate. The kind of man who didn’t need to threaten because everyone already understood the cost of disappointing him. “Comfortable,” he said mildly. Mara didn’t answer. Ronan’s mouth curved faintly. “Good. People speak more honestly when they aren’t distracted by pain.” He pulled the chair back and sat, unhurried, legs crossing with casual confidence. The space bent around him, attention dragging inward whether she wanted it to or not.

"Don't you ever suggest I wanted any of this. You took advantage of a mistake. You're a monster, Ronan." Ronan’s head had snapped to the side from the force of the blow, but he didn't recoil. Slowly, he turned his face back toward her. A dark, crimson mark was blooming across his sharp cheekbone, but instead of anger, a slow, terrifyingly dark amusement spread across his features.

"The rogues. Ronan came home bleeding that night, marked like something out of a nightmare. If it wasn't you, what actually happened to him?" Marcus frowned, confusion crossing his face, genuine and unrehearsed. "I don't know anything about that. I was already down here by the time it happened. Whatever he told you, I wasn't part of it." I believed him. I'd believed him the moment I saw his face, if I was honest with myself, because a man capable of orchestrating an ambush against his own Alpha didn't sit in a cell for weeks accepting blame for a story built entirely by someone else's convenience.

he said calmly, “or look in Nyra’s direction with disdain… will have me to contend with.” The entire place went still. I felt it, the fear rippling through the crowd like a wave. Because Ronan’s presence wasn’t just Alpha. It was bloodline. He was born of two Alphas, Victor and Elara, power layered on power. And when he claimed something, the world listened. People backed away visibly. Eyes dropped. Someone swallowed audibly. No one spoke again. Ronan’s hand tightened around mine. “Come,” he said, voice softer for me. “Let’s eat.”

He just watched, a predator understanding the reach of its mate’s strength. I pressed my hand to my stomach, heart hammering. “I can… I think I can control it,” I whispered. But Kael didn’t answer. His gaze was already forward, sharp, deadly. Ronan stepped out from the mist then, tall, broad, silver hair plastered to his wet skin, eyes glittering with cruelty. A sneer twisted his lips. “So… the Luna hides a secret,” he said. “And the Alpha thinks he can protect both.”

I held Diva against me, my pulse hammering in my ears. She trembled, weak and unsteady, but she was here. She was back. But we weren’t safe. Not yet. A low, inhuman growl rippled through the air. Ronan. He stepped from the swirling shadows, his eyes glowing a sickening red. Power crackled around him, thick and suffocating. The walls shuddered, stone crumbling from the ceiling. I didn’t move.

The same man from the war room. "Do not scream," he said quietly. His voice was deep and rough. "I am not here to hurt you. I am here to talk about the king you are helping destroy." He removed his hand slowly. I scrambled backward until my back hit the headboard. "Who are you?" I whispered. His smile was cold and sharp and held no humor at all. "My name is Ronan," he said. "And Kael is my brother.”

I smirked. Someone at another table choked on a laugh. Don’s glare sharpened. “You should have stayed where you belong,” he snapped. “Far away from my son and my company. Everything you touch turns gets ruined.” “I agree,“ Ronan leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink, taking everything in like this was his favorite show. “Negative really does have a face.” “Don’t worry,” I said sweetly. “You’re still the brand ambassador.” Now some guests were visibly smirking. Ronan’s eyes cooled, but his smile stayed in place.