Ronan's POV
Something is wrong.
My wolf is restless, pacing in my mind like a caged beast. My heartbeat pounds like war drums, fast and erratic, as if I've just run for miles. A sick, sinking feeling settles in my stomach.
"Raine is in danger," my wolf growls, the words laced with fury and desperation.
I try to fight him, to keep control, but I know it's pointless. My wolf is stronger when it comes to her. He won't stop. He won't let me ignore this.
The shift takes over before I can stop it, my bones breaking, rearranging, my senses sharpening like a blade. The moment my paws hit the earth, I bolt, running toward the forest with one thought pounding in my head.
Find her. Protect her.
The scent hits me before I even reach the trees—hers. But it's laced with something that makes my vision blur with rage.
Fear.
It's thick, suffocating.
And she's not alone.
Lena Monroe is with her. But there's something else. Something dark. Something is wrong.
"The creatures," my wolf snarls.
Those creatures that are terrorizing the town.
"They are here"
A deep, animalistic fury rises in me, and I push myself faster, tearing through the undergrowth. My claws dig into the soil, my body nothing but speed and instinct. My mind races with frantic prayers to the Moon Goddess.
Let her be safe. Let her be safe.
Then I hear it.
Voices.
No—her voice.
I skid to a halt, ears twitching. Footsteps. Rustling.
Then—there they are.
Dripping wet. Clothes soaked. Pale, shaken—but alive.
Relief slams into me so hard I almost collapse.
She sees me first.
"Ronan."
I don't think. I act.
I lunge.
She yelps as my weight knocks her onto the ground, landing on her back with a soft thud. I bury my snout in her neck, inhaling deeply, searching for wounds, for anything—anything that might have harmed her.
She's mine. And if anything touched her—I will rip it apart.
I lap at her face, my wolf needing to comfort her, to assure himself that she's okay. But her scent is all wrong. There's a sliver of blood in the air, and when I find the thin wound along her neck, a guttural snarl rips from me.
I throw my head back and howl.
She's hurt.
Raine blinks up at me, wide-eyed—then bursts out laughing.
I freeze.
What?
I was ready to tear apart the entire damn forest, and she's—laughing?
Her fingers thread through my fur, and I nearly flinch at the warmth of her touch.
"I'm fine, Ronan," she says, her voice soft, amused.
And then she smiles at me.
A real smile. Not a smirk, not a forced grin—but her full, genuine smile.
I don't think I've ever seen her smile like that at me before.
I just stare at her.
"I think I like you better when you can't talk," she teases, rubbing my head. "You're so cute like this."
My wolf preens.
He preens. Like a damn puppy.
"She likes me, not you," he chants happily.
I snap at him, but the bastard just rolls onto his back, exposing his belly in submission.
Lena gasps. "No. Freaking. Way."
I want to die.
I want to murder my wolf.
Raine giggles and strokes my stomach, and—**dammit—**my traitorous body purrs.
I purr.
No. The bastard purrs. But I can't even deny that I like it.
"I'm really fine," Raine says again, as if that changes anything.
She stands up and spins around, as if twirling like an idiot is going to convince me she wasn't just in the clutches of some unknown creatures.
I sit on my paws, scrutinizing her, my eyes tracking every inch of her body. The wound on her neck is still there, but aside from that, she seems unharmed.
Still, she shouldn't have been out here. She shouldn't have been alone in the forest—unguarded.
Without thinking, I nip at her leg.
Her eyes snap down to me. "Hey!"
"What the hell were you thinking?" I want to growl at her, but I have no damn mouth.
My frustration boils over.
I let the shift take me again, ripping back control.
Bones snap, my body twists, and in the blink of an eye, I'm standing in front of her—naked.
Her breath hitches.
Lena makes a strangled choking sound and slaps her hands over her eyes. "Oh, for f*ck's sake, put some damn pants on, Ronan!"
Raine yanks her hands away from Lena's grasp and glares at me. "What the hell are you doing here?"
My jaw tightens. "I could ask you the same damn thing."
"You have a mouth now," she mutters. "What a pity."
Lena snorts.
I step closer. "I said—what were you doing out here, Raine?"
She folds her arms. "None of your concern."
I grit my teeth, anger flashing white-hot in my veins. "Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?" My voice is low, dangerous. "You could have died."
Something flickers in her eyes, and then—her expression hardens.
"At least that would've done you a favor, right?" she says. "Getting rid of me."
The words gut me.
I feel it—physically. Like claws raking down my chest.
My wolf whines.
No.
No.
The thought of her getting hurt, of her—dying? It twists something deep inside me. It makes me sick.
I take a breath. "Raine—"
"Can you please," she interrupts, voice flat, "get out of our way?"
Her eyes bore into mine.
There's defiance. But there's something else beneath it.
Something fragile.
Something wounded.
"She is scared "
I should let her go.
I should say nothing.
But I can't.
Because no matter how much she hates me—no matter how much I try to hate her back
I can't let her go.