Novel & Cerita Ronan Kree

dad asked in a weak voice. " No, Sir, we will need someone who doesn't take medicines as well as someone who is not from his family. The wound he has will only be healed when we put the blood of someone non relative to the patient," the doctor explained. " I can also volunteer to give my blood, I am his friend not family and I am from a different pack as well," Ronan said as he came forward and everyone looked at him like he had grown two horns, he noticed all the eyes on him which made him visibly uncomfortable. So, he hesitated slightly as he added, " Of course, I mean if it is not a problem for you guys," he said with uncertainty.

Lyra’s chant faltered. Kael’s hand went to his weapon instantly. “What is it?” “Someone’s breaking through,” she whispered. “Something powerful.” The sky above the ruins darkened. The wind screamed through the trees. Shadows spilled across the ground, twisting, taking form. Kael grabbed me and pulled me behind him as a voice, smooth and venomous, echoed through the temple. “You’ve hidden well, little seer. But the moon always finds its shadow.” Ronan. He stepped out of the darkness like a nightmare given flesh. Tall, graceful, dressed in black armor that shimmered faintly like oil in the dim light. His eyes, cold silver, inhuman, locked on me first, then drifted to Kael.

"Sorry Miss, You've got the wrong person. I use condoms and there is no way I would have a son that I didn't know existed. I brought the phone down, about to hit the red button when her pleading voice stopped me. " I beg you, Nikolas Sica, Samuel needs your blood. He might die soon and I know you don't believe anything I am saying but you have to. Nikolas, you have a son who is dying right now at Petrina Memorial and the only thing that could save him is your blood. Don't let him die..." There was something in her voice. The desperation–Honesty. She could not be lying but how could I have a son?

Solmyra said without turning to him. “Yes,” Maeron murmured. “And her mate draws near.” “Will you stop them?” Maeron didn’t answer right away. He closed his eyes and let the wind carry fragments of thoughts into him. He wasn’t born a man. He wasn’t even born a being. He was created, twisted from broken pieces of other warriors and creatures who had once worshipped the moon and bled for it. He didn’t fear pain. He didn’t fear war. But this time, something different tugged at his chest. He could sense the power inside Serena growing. A lunar blessing like hers was rare. Dangerous.

Pain flared up my side, but I swallowed the wince, forcing myself to straighten. Laughter echoed around me, cruel and sharp. I didn’t have to turn to know who it was. His smells of cedarwood and sweat gave him away. Ronan Graves. The future Alpha. The golden boy of the Bloodmoon Pack. And the boy who had made it his life’s mission to remind me that I was worthless. His tall, muscular frame loomed over me, dark brows arched in mock amusement. He was every bit the Alpha-in-the-making—commanding, effortless, untouchable.

It was the first time I'd seen her look truly happy. "Your mate, Zane... do not underestimate the boy who currently holds your physical shell," she said, and there was almost a note of affection in her voice. "Ronan is one of the most powerful Alphas to ever walk the earth. His bloodline is ancient, rooted in the very bedrock of the northern mountains. You two were made for each other… not just by casual circumstance, but by the design of the universe itself."

“To the pack. I hope you know that.” He waited expectantly, and I cleared my throat. “I don’t really know what that means…sir?” He smiled. “You can call me Ronan.” “Okay, Ronan.” “I should introduce you to the rest of my family, I guess.” He nodded at the man standing beside his chair. “This is Kai, my second. Zoe in the corner there isn’t related, but she’s an advisor of mine. And I guess you’ve met Jeremy, Beck, and Noah. I know for a fact you’ve met Alyx.”

It pulled a limp, grey shape onto a flat rock. It was Ronan. He was naked, his human skin the color of wood ash. He wasn't breathing. The violet veins that had mapped his body were gone, replaced by deep, puckered scars that looked like they had been there for a century. I looked for the other one. Kael was further away, caught in a tangle of fallen timber near the opposite bank. His amber eyes were open, but they were fixed on the sky, reflecting the pale moon with a terrifying, vacant clarity.

But all he could see was Drogo’s claws running down her pale face, frightened and his fist clenched, with his knuckles turning white. The door creaked open slowly and both of them looked at eachother confused. Someone stepped in without knocking or being invited in. He stood tall, eyes sharp and full of suspicion His gaze immediately fell on Arhtur, studying him like he was trying to figure out something beyond the physical. “Who the hell are you?” Arthur snarled, his temper was becoming shorter, with his wolf rising so fast Matt had to grab his arm to stop him from lunging. Ronan did not flinch just stared at him with his lips curling into a smile contempt. “I could ask the same. I am a me

Controlled. Deadly. My shoulders tightened before I could stop them. Ronan stood three lockers down, bare-chested, pulling his jersey over one arm with infuriating ease. Up close, the scars were impossible to miss—old claw marks across his ribs, a faint line along his collarbone where something had nearly torn his throat out. This wasn’t a man who survived on reputation. This was a man who enforced it. “I skated like I wanted to stay on the team,” I replied, keeping my tone neutral.