Ronan Kree Novels & Stories

"Elder Alaric's grandson is actually participating in an outdoor tracking trial? The production budget must be astronomical." "Ronan Nightcrest... the reigning champion of the virtual blood-arenas. They call him Zeus on the digital grid." "He retired from the competitive esports circuit last winter after a silver-poisoning injury to his right wrist, but his personal stream traffic still dominates the entire continent. He is an absolute A-lister in show business within a single cycle." "The rumors say his bite is more dangerous than his physical weight. He doesn't hesitate to humiliate high-tier alphas if they bore him."

Ronan was the son of that brutality, and from the look in his eyes, he didn’t regret it for a second. But something about that stare. It didn’t burn. It pulled. Low in my chest. Sharp and wrong and undeniable. He stopped three paces from me. Just outside of striking range. Or kissing distance. Gods, that thought was fucking cursed. “Kellan Reed,” he said, voice like gravel warmed in a fire pit. “You must be Ronan Draxmere,” I said. “I expected someone taller.” His smirk was slow. Dangerous. “And I expected someone smarter.”

I dropped it in the stove. Week six, exactly as I'd planned, Creed's front line cracked. Three of Creed's own border units sent couriers to Drake requesting protection and offering defection. We took them. Ronan sent a messenger. The message said: Nora. Name your terms. I wrote back: Terms are not negotiated with you. They are negotiated with Creed's council of elders. Send someone who isn't you. The messenger came back two days later. The reply said: I am coming myself. He came the next morning. Alone. No guard. No convoy. He walked into the Drake conference room like he'd walked into the Mating Ceremony a year ago — like the room was going to bend for him.

His hand rested lightly on the curve of my waist, grounding and maddening all at once. “I see that our Luna has been training you.” Nolan said, choosing to direct his question to the children who are watching excitedly. “And I can tell if this is how your training is starting, then I'm going to have a stronger league on my line, aren't I?” I tilted my face up, ready to ask what the hell he was doing. I wanted to ask what he was doing, but the smile that was on his face was one that I never saw. Even the children were happy to see him like this.

RONAN The summit resumed after a short break but my attention was no longer on the documents in front of me. I kept my eyes on the maps, at least I tried to but my mind kept going to what I had just seen. I didn't expect that seeing Elara with another man would make me feel weird and uncomfortable. I learnt his name was Kieran from one of my men, he was from the East Haven pack. There had been nothing improper about their conversation and I knew that.

Muttering under my breath, I grabbed the nearest drying cloth, settled at the edge of the large preparation table, and carefully cleaned one crystal glass after another. “Christ, Sora. So tight... so fucking perfect.” Cassian’s words from before flashed through my mind as heat crept up my cheeks, and that was when someone cleared their throat dramatically behind me. “You look entirely too pleased with life this early in the morning.” I looked up to see Ronan Quinn leaning against the doorframe with two supply crates balanced between his arm and hips. “Hold on,” he said carefully, his pale gray eyes narrowing to slits as he came closer to me. “Why are you glowing?”

“I would stand back if you’re going to watch. We are starting soon.” “I’m Ren’s assistant,” I tell him. He looks visibly surprised, tugging his glove off his hand to shake mine. He looks boyishly handsome. He has shimmering blonde hair that glows under the midday sunlight. No wonder the girls have been gushing. Especially with his warm brown eyes. “Oh, nice to meet you. I’m Nik, I’m the manager of this lot,” he tells me, motioning over his shoulder at the others who seem unfazed at my presence.

“You’re the lineage they sought to wipe out. The daughter of the exiled. The spark they feared would reignite. So tell me,..what's it like to watch them burn?” There was something in his voice—dark and enticing—that made her chest feel tight. The wolf within her stirred, not with anger this time, but in acknowledgement. He was certainly dangerous, but not a threat... not yet. “Who are you?” she asked again, her voice lowered this time. He smiled, and for a brief moment, the silver in his eyes flashed like lightning. “You can call me Ronan,” he replied. “I come from beyond the border they pretend isn’t there. From the clans your Council believed is extinct.”

Alex POV Covering over all the details of how that little girl died. I’ve still got nothing, however the new rogue member has found herself helpful by giving us coordinates to where their pack is. We’ve been setting up plans on ways to get on the inside before they figure out we know where they are. Creed has set up cameras in the woods pointing towards their territory. They have 9 people on morning patrol and 12 at night. Weird they have more at night than during the day. The ‘king’ hasn’t come close to the line and makes me wonder if he ever leaves. Sighing I hand Ryan the photos he brought to me that he took this morning. Getting the photos helps me send them to red who researches people

The four of us stand up when five extremely large men walk in. “I am Kaden, and this is my cousin Alek. These two here are Brent and Lance.” I say. “Hey, I am Curtis, and this is Venom,” Curtis says. “I am Quade, and this is Zion. I am assuming you know Chaos.” Quade states.