The room Ronan put her in was too beautiful to be a prison.
Tall windows draped in red velvet. A soft rug that swallowed her footsteps. A hearth burning low, throwing amber light across the dark stone. Everything smelled like cedar, smoke, and the faint sweetness of pine.
But the heavy iron lock on the door ruined the illusion.
Evelyn paced like a storm bottled in glass, her breath sharp, shadows swirling faintly under her skin. Every time she inhaled, she could taste him. Ronan. Alpha. The man who rejected her, rescued her, caged her.
The worst part?
His scent calmed her and ignited her all at once.
And she hated that.
"Open the door," she growled.
Her voice didn't sound human. It vibrated, layered—like something else spoke beneath her tone.
No answer.
She slammed her hand against the door. Hard.
A crack spiderwebbed through the wood.
"Ronan!" she snapped. "I swear, if you keep me in here—"
"No," came his voice at last, rough through the door.
Evelyn's eyes narrowed. "Coward."
Silence.
Then footsteps—slow, measured. She could picture him standing there, jaw clenched, ready to snap but holding himself together with Alpha discipline.
"You don't get to call me that," he said.
"I can call you anything I want." Shadows slithered around her ankles. "You're the one who left me to die."
The air on the other side of the door shifted, thickening with his anger.
And guilt.
"Open. The. Door."
"I said no."
She struck the door again—this time, shadow threads burst from her palm and crawled across the wood like veins of darkness.
Ronan froze. She could feel the tension rolling off him, his wolf pacing, unsettled.
"You're not supposed to be able to do that," he said quietly. "You were human."
"Yeah," she muttered. "Not anymore."
His breath hitched.
Then the lock turned.
Slowly.
The door opened, lantern light spilling over his broad frame. He filled the doorway—bleeding dominance, danger, and a kind of restrained hunger that made Evelyn's chest tighten.
His shirt was torn from the fight hours earlier. A bruise colored his jaw. His dark hair fell over his forehead, wild and unmanageable. His eyes… gods, his eyes.
They weren't cold.
They were burning.
"Move," she said, trying to shoulder past him.
He caught her wrist.
His touch burned—like sparks leaping from a fire.
"Don't," he said, but it came out ragged, as if he was fighting something inside himself.
"Let go." She tried to pull away.
He didn't.
Instead, he stepped closer, breath ghosting her cheek. "Your powers are unstable. If you leave this room, if another pack tracks you, if a hunter senses you—"
"You think I care?"
"You should." His grip tightened—not painfully, but with an Alpha's command. "They want you dead."
"And you?" she whispered. "You rejected me. Why keep me alive?"
Ronan's jaw clenched. A muscle in his neck twitched. She could almost hear his wolf growl beneath his skin.
"Because your death triggers a prophecy," he said.
"Oh, so it's not about me," she snapped. "Just about preventing your future from collapsing."
He didn't deny it.
But he didn't confirm it either.
He just stared at her like she was a problem he couldn't solve… or a wound he couldn't heal.
"Evelyn." Her name left his tongue like a breath he'd been holding too long. "You don't understand what you're becoming."
She lifted her chin. "Then explain it."
Ronan didn't move.
Neither did she.
But the space between them shrank, crackling with heat and hatred.
Finally, he spoke, voice dropping low. "When the bond snapped earlier… I felt it."
"I know," she said. "You flinched like a coward."
"I felt it because it didn't break," he whispered.
Her breath caught.
He stepped even closer, their noses almost touching. "Something changed. Twisted. Turned into something else."
"Lies."
"Then explain why my wolf is clawing at my insides every time you breathe," he growled.
Her pulse jumped.Heat shot through her.The shadows under her skin stirred like they liked the way his voice sounded.
She shoved him back.
He didn't move.
"Whatever you think you feel," she spat, "I don't want it."
"That's not how bonds work."
"You rejected me!"
"And I'm paying for it," he snapped, voice cracking with something raw. "You think I don't feel what you feel? You think I don't hear you in my damn head every time I close my eyes?"
Evelyn froze.
Her heartbeat echoed in her ears.
"You're staying here tonight," he said finally, pulling back. "Guarded. Protected. I can't let anyone get to you."
"You can't cage me," she whispered.
Ronan turned, hand on the doorframe. He looked back over his shoulder—
—and the hunger in his eyes nearly undid her.
"No," he said. "But I can cage everyone else from getting to you first."
The door closed softly.
The lock clicked.
Her breath shook.
The shadows curled around her legs like dark cats seeking warmth. Her skin burned where he touched her. Her heart hurt in ways she didn't understand.
Hatred.
Anger.
Fear.
Want.
And something dangerously close to longing.
She sank onto the bed, gripping the sheets as a soft whimper escaped her throat.
It wasn't pain.
It was the bond.
Changing.
Twisting.
Reforming into something stronger… and darker.