Stargate Atlantis Ronon Novels & Stories

The white wolf rushed up only seconds before the wall slammed down on the entrance, cutting him off. I exhaled a breath I didn't realize I’d been holding, approaching carefully. Ronan stood at the gates, his broad shoulders tense, as he yelled up at the watch tower fiends for their screw up, calling them everything but sons of the goddess. His short white hair tousled as if he’d been running, and his nostrils flared as he scanned the empty road, his fists clenched. I smoothed my expression into something cool and composed, my red lips curling into a smirk as I stepped into the light.

I grabbed his face with both hands, forcing him to focus on me, just as Dax finally got a light bulb to work. And Ronan's pupils were completely dilated, reflecting the light, but he wasn't here with us. He was looking through me, seeing a laboratory I recognized from my darkest nightmares. We couldn't do this now, not with the Rogues hammering their way here, not with the power out and Ethan dying on the bed. “The 4th gate wasn't the beginning, was it?” Ronan whispered. His voice was hollow, devoid of its usual warmth, sounding like a ghost of himself as he was trying to gulp air into his lungs.

He laughed, "You have a point" When we landed, Alpha Arnou met us with a few Hummers. Damien approached him first, "Alpha Trahan, it's nice to meet you. This is my Luna, Abby Thomas." He took my hand and shook it saying, "So nice to meet you, Luna." Then he motioned to the man next to him saying, "This is my Beta, Rule Bergeron. Rule, this is Alpha Damien Riggs and his Luna Abby Thomas." He shook both of our hands, "We do appreciate your visit. We are facing some issues with the humans, and we don't know how we are going to deal with it."

​I was preparing to be the bait. ​Ronan stood over the recording console, his presence intensely focused. He wasn't the tyrannical Alpha; he was a surgical strategist, concentrating his entire being on the mission. He spoke softly, coaching me, his voice a low vibration that seemed to bypass my ears and resonate directly in my chest.

It doesn’t matter how hard his life has ever gotten nor how bad his missions became, Harley had always been there for him, waiting for him with a radiant smile to help him clean the blood on his face and clear the guilt in his heart. Ronan stops in front of a thick metal door, reaching the basement faster than he would like, but there is no point in delaying it anymore. He knows exactly what he is going to do, but doesn’t know if he is prepared to do it. Before he can flee the scene and run until none of the Cartels can find him, he enter the small room.

“You’re stubborn and grumpy and surprisingly sweet. You make me laugh even when you’re trying to be difficult. And you’re letting me see the real you. That means everything.” He swallowed hard, emotion flickering across his face. “No one’s ever stuck around long enough to see the real me. Not like this.” We stayed like that for a while, just holding each other in the quiet penthouse. The outside world felt very far away. But later, while I was updating his notes on my laptop, Ronan’s phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at it and his expression changed slightly. “GM again,” he said. “They want a video call tomorrow morning. Progress report.”

The DNA results I leaked to the high-tier rogue influencer are definitely out there, even if Malachi tried to choke the signal. Ronan Nightcrest is already awake, his massive, broad-shouldered frame blocking the kitchen doorway. His dark golden eyes follow every line of my throat as I swallow my water. He had spent the dawn watching my forms, his inner wolf low-growling in heavy, possessive approval before he stepped in to help me dress. Tavian Blackridge steps into the kitchen the moment the scrying eye turns toward Darius’s sleeping quarters. He looks at Ronan, then at me, keeping his voice beneath a low acoustic barrier.

Aria’s heart raced faster with every breath. When they reached the hallway, she heard Aleron's growl. Raw. Ferocious. A sound no sixteen-year-old should ever be capable of making. They reached the room door. Ronan stood outside, one hand braced against the doorframe, chest rising and falling sharply. His wolf eyes were showing against the dark. He looked pale. “Ronan?” Aria breathed. He snapped his head toward her. “Mother…” The tremble in his voice made Aria’s chest tighten.

He shot me a look but didn’t push. We reached the gate. Two guards shifted as we approached—one male, one female, both scenting me hard enough to memorize my DNA. Their stances tensed, but neither raised a weapon. One stepped forward. “Name?” “Ronan.” The male’s nostrils flared. The name still held weight here, apparently. “State your business.” Ven held up a hand. “They’re with me. I cleared this.” The guard hesitated—then nodded once and opened the gate.

Darion's POV Ronan put the map on the table on a Wednesday morning with everyone present and said what he had to say without preamble because he had never been someone who built up to things. "The gateway," he said, tapping the location. "We hit it directly." The room was quiet for a moment. "Define directly," Marcus said.