Ronan Kree Novels & Stories

Rohan asked quietly, as he drew nearer, close enough that Kael could see the hatred burning in his eyes. “We mourned you… we honored your name beside the fallen.” Ronan shook his head slowly, disbelief and disgust warring across his hardened face. “But you weren’t dead.” His gaze dropped to the man kneeling before him, and something bitter twisted in his expression. “You fled because you were weak.” “Say what you wish, Ronan.” Kael began quietly, lifting his head just enough for the torchlight to catch the bruises lining his face. The serenity in his voice was unmistakably inhuman.

His eyes ran across the six to seven of us, that now seemed like a group. “It’s just the two of us,” Leah said. “The rest are people we don’t exactly know.” I resisted the urge to laugh at her reply. Surely if she became the Luna, the Blood Moon Pack was going to find it hard to keep all their social connections. “I’m from the Rising Moon Pack,” Scarlett replied, and he nodded. “I’m Ronan,” he finally said. His name was familiar; I seemed to have heard it somewhere before. But where? It was hard to take note of anything around me with Ronan beside me, occupying each of my senses. From his scent to his every move, I was entranced by him.

the elder asked. Ronan didn’t hesitate. “Nyra Moonchild,” he said. The quill scratched across parchment. And just like that, it was inked into history. A few people snickered. Someone whispered something sharp. Someone else made a sound like a laugh strangled halfway. Ronan didn’t turn. He didn’t even blink. His jaw didn’t tighten. He looked at the elder like nothing in this room mattered but the ink and the oath. The younger elder glanced up at me.

Someone near the back said something I couldn't catch, and someone else laughed quietly. I did not turn to follow him. I stared straight ahead and kept my heartbeat as controlled as I could manage, which was becoming more difficult by the second. I knew his reputation. Everyone did. Ronan Bloodcrest had broken a Daxton heir's arm in a sparring match at fourteen and apologised to no one. He and Kieran had a history that spanned years. Brutal inter-pack trials, ranking competitions where both of them had walked away bleeding, a rivalry that people talked about the way they talked about old wars.

She was afraid that he was a bad person who wanted to kidnap her because of her stepfather's status as a very dangerous military chief. But Diana's wild thoughts disappeared when the man introduced himself.... "I'm Darren, that's my name." Darren? Annabelle's friend? Diana had never known. "I'm the boy who caught you crying in the restroom when your mom scolded you," he said again. Dana immediately shut her mouth. She finally remembered! Darren, the son of Alpha Adam who currently leads Pack Kyne. Diana still didn't think they would meet again. Especially after not meeting for a long time, she didn't recognize his face.

Ronan didn't look like a hockey star anymore; he looked like a predator on a scent. "Suite 1205," I muttered as we entered the elevator. "Registered to an alias. 'Evan Mercer.'" "My ex-rival from the Southern Pack," Ronan growled, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the elevator rail. "If he’s involved in this, I’m going to do more than just check him into the boards." "He’s just the face, Ronan. The brains is Silas Crowe. Mercer doesn't have the stomach for this kind of science."

one said. “He and Declan grew up together,” the other replied. “They are quite close.” “Have you seen him before?” “Once. At a gathering and he was extremely handsome.” “What is his name again?” “Alpha Ronan. Of the Stormcrest Pack.” “Ah, yes. The man is very handsome. Very handsome.” I did not turn around, I just kept my eyes on the road. Soon, a convoy appeared in the distance, which was flanked by guards in official uniform and shiny black expensive vehicles.

Turning the doorknob, I slipped into the room and then slammed the door shut behind me to announce my presence. Gunnar didn't even flinch at the sound, seated with his back against the headboard and the bottom half of his body hidden under white sheets. His laptop sat on his lap as he vigorously typed. The son of a cactus didn't even spare me a single glance whereas I found myself scanning his body. He was shirtless, reminding that he was carved by the Greek Gods themselves. Probably carved by Hades in all fairness. "I didn't say you could enter," Gunnar grunted, lips twitching. He wanted to hide his distaste but couldn't.

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.

Kiran said seriously. “Go where? Where is he?” Malachi almost yelled at him. “His name’s Blake Cannon now, he was in Chicago but now he lives on a farm in Epworth, Iowa,” Kiran said and his hands shook with either anger or excitement. “What did Death show you?” “There are people after him. We were in his house, there were guns shooting everywhere and he gets hit, maybe five or six times but he’s still fighting back but there’s too many of them, he’s going to die, Dad. I saw him die,” Kiran said, emotion swimming in his blue eyes.