Novel & Cerita Ronan Avengers

So him coming with her was only working to their advantage, and now he’d get to see him fight naturally, and while he also tries to protect Vivienne, he’d be left but to take some hits, and once he’s weakened, then they can take Vivienne away and then tie him up for their further plans. The men are at least three times stronger and faster than a normal human that received normal training, given the special training they’ve received and this being their profession and even if Adrian proves to be more powerful, then there’s still no way he’d be able to beat all twenty of them. These were all Ronan’s thoughts as he relaxed his back on the chair he sat on, ready for the show, and his face lit wi

Then footsteps approached slowly through the destroyed tunnel beyond the smoke. Heavy. Controlled. Dangerous. The Raven Crest leader’s face visibly tightened. “No…” Silver-black energy flooded the corridor first. Then Ronan emerged from the smoke. Blood covered parts of his body while unstable Lunar energy spiraled violently beneath his skin. His silver eyes no longer looked fully human now. Cracks of glowing energy spread across his arms like fractures barely containing the wolf beneath. And the terrifying part— He wasn’t looking at the soldiers. He was staring only at Aria.

Calder hesitated. The smoke parted slightly. A figure stepped forward from the trees. Ronan Crowe didn’t wear armor. He didn’t need it. His presence bent the air anyway, confidence radiating from him like heat. His wolves remained behind him, half-seen shapes in the haze, eyes glinting. “Go on,” Ronan said mildly. “Say my name.” Calder’s breath hitched. “It wasn’t him,” he blurted. “It was Dane. Dane Korr.”

Ronan growled, displeased by Ashton's display of arrogance. A terrifying pressure crashed down on Ashton, one that came from someone who was clearly a peak transcendent realm expert. It was as expected from Ronan, who was a deputy head of the Dominion Vanguard. He was not to be underestimated! Elise and Whitney both trembled, their backs covered in sweat. But at the very next moment, an even more domineering force surged forward, completely neutralizing the pressure from Ronan. Ashton motioned for Elise and Whitney to stand behind him. The dark flames flickered even more wildly in his eyes.

“And no survival instinct.” I bristled. “I’m standing right here.” Amber eyes flicked to Zandro, feigning surprise. “She talks too.” “Enough to forget her place.” Ronan stepped closer, invading my space without asking. His scent hit me…warm, wild, dangerous. My pulse spiked traitorously. “What’s your name?” he asked. I hesitated. False identity. Remember. “…Amber.” His eyebrows narrowed. “I am Ronan,” he said. “You just insulted the future High Alpha of Blackfang.”

By the time it was over, the intruder wasn’t breathing. The garage went very quiet, the kind of quiet that follows violence rather than precedes it, five of us standing over a body none of us had wanted and one answer that raised more questions than it settled. Jennifer had gone pale beside Draven, one hand pressed flat against her own chest like she was trying to keep something inside it from coming loose. “Ronan’s father,” Thor said finally, breaking the silence.“That much lines up. He’s had a grudge since the tournament claim went public.”

"Good. Because he’s a piece of trash compared to what you deserve." Tavian chuckles softly, stepping back. "The boy's right. The network might be calling you a climber, but I know a true alpha lord when I see one. I’ll leave you two to your meal." The moment the arena master clears the room, Ronan closes the distance between us, his large hands anchoring hard against the stone wall right beside my head. His heat is intense, making my skin prickle under my leather vest. "If you want his pack destroyed, give me the word. I’ll let my vanguard flatten his northern border."

There he was. Ronan. Alpha of the Ashfang pack. Towering. Wet. Dripping. A towel slung low on his hips like it belonged there, casually disrespecting every ounce of self-control I had left. His abs were carved from stone. His waist? Unfair. A tattoo curled around his arm and crept slightly over his chest, like it had a story it was dying to whisper. I didn’t even want to think about how good he looked soaked and glistening like a forbidden rain god. “I—I—I saw nothing!” I yelped, clamping my eyes shut like that could erase what had just burned itself into my memory.

If Kael felt like steady heat, this man felt like lightning waiting to strike. He leaned against one of the porch posts, arms crossed, dark hair pulled back loosely at his neck. His eyes were lighter than Kael’s — amber with flecks of green — and far less guarded. “Let me guess,” she said. “Also a werewolf. Also weirdly intense.” His grin was quick and sharp. “Ronan. Second-in-command. And I prefer ‘charmingly intense.’” She huffed a small laugh before she could stop herself. “Lena. Newly traumatized.”

And it was giving him power. "Keep fighting!" I shouted. We fought for what felt like hours. But it was probably only minutes. Finally, the last spawn dissolved into smoke. We stood there breathing hard. The baby was crying now. Scared. Ronan collapsed. "Ronan!" I ran to him. His arm was completely black now. The veins had spread across half his chest. His breathing was shallow. "I'm okay," he said. But he wasn't. "Just tired." Elara knelt beside him with the baby. "Here. Let her help."