Evelyn didn't sleep.
The bond wouldn't let her.
Every time she closed her eyes, she felt him—like a pulse echoing against her own heartbeat. A phantom touch brushing her skin. A whisper of heat curling low in her stomach.
A constant, silent tug.
Come closer.
She shoved her head under the pillow.
"No," she muttered into the sheets. "Stay away. Stay away."
But the bond laughed at her.
And worse—it obeyed him.
By dawn, she was exhausted and furious. Shadows rippled along her arms like living ink, reacting to every emotion she shoved down. They slid over the walls, curling around furniture, tasting the air.
They were becoming a part of her.
No—They were her.
She pushed them back down with a shaky breath… just as footsteps approached her door.
Her pulse kicked.
Heavy. Controlled. Alpha steps.
Her stomach twisted in a way she absolutely, definitely, completely hated.
The lock clicked.
The door creaked open slowly.
Ronan stepped inside.
She didn't look at him at first—she didn't trust herself to.
But she felt him.
His power rolled into the room like a slow, dark wave. His scent—pine, smoke, winter storm—wrapped itself around her body, brushing over her exposed skin like a phantom hand.
The bond snapped tight.
Too tight.
Every nerve lit up.
Evelyn finally looked at him.
He looked… wrong this morning.
Dangerously wrong.
His hair was mussed like he'd been pacing half the night. His shirt was half-buttoned, the collar askew. His eyes—dark silver—glowed faintly, almost feral.
He looked like a man who hadn't slept either.
Good.
She sat up. "What do you want?"
His jaw tightened. "I need to talk to you."
She crossed her arms. "Then talk."
Ronan exhaled—slow, heavy, as if dragging oxygen back through lungs full of stones.
"The bond. It's… shifting."
"No," she snapped. "You rejected me. It should be gone."
"It isn't." His voice roughened. "And last night, it changed again."
She laughed—harsh and broken. "You mean when you locked me in a room and played prison warden? Yeah, that'll affect a girl."
Ronan moved closer.
Too close.
She felt his heat before he touched her. Felt his wolf pacing under his skin. Felt the tension radiating off him like a storm.
He stopped right in front of her.
"Evelyn," he murmured. "Look at me."
"No."
"Look at me."
The command in his voice wrapped around her throat like silk.
She obeyed before she could stop herself.
His breath hitched.
Something flickered in his expression—something hungry, haunted, possessive.
"Damn it," he muttered, voice low and cracked. "Why does it feel like this?"
"Like what?" she whispered before she could stop herself.
He leaned in slowly, bracing one hand on the wall beside her head. His chest nearly brushed hers. His breath ghosted her lips.
"Like I need you close," he growled softly. "Like keeping you here wasn't enough. Like my wolf wants to—"
He cut himself off.
But the bond filled in the words for her.
Claim you.
Her breath came short.
Ronan clenched his jaw, pulling back an inch, fighting that urge with a struggle she could feel in her bones.
"Stop," she whispered, heart pounding too fast. "Don't look at me like that."
He swallowed hard. "I'm trying."
"No, you're not."
He stepped away—violently, as though distance was the only thing keeping his instincts chained.
But something followed him.
A thread of energy stretched from her chest to his, glowing faintly—not visible to the eye, but real.
He felt it too.
He cursed under his breath. "The bond is repairing itself."
"No," Evelyn whispered.
"Yes." His voice dropped, dangerous. "It's rebuilding stronger than before."
"That doesn't make sense," she snapped. "You rejected me. You ended it."
"I know," he growled. "But it didn't end."
A long silence.
Evelyn's throat tightened. "Ronan… why is this happening?"
He looked away.
He didn't want to answer.
Which meant he knew something.
"Tell me," she demanded.
He finally met her eyes.
And the truth in his gaze stole her breath.
"The Goddess warned me," he said. "If I claim you, I die."
Her heart stopped.
"But if I reject you…" He took a slow step toward her again, eyes burning. "…you become unstoppable. A threat. A weapon. A prophecy with teeth."
Evelyn felt cold all over.
"So what now?" she whispered.
Ronan swallowed hard. "Now… every part of me is fighting not to touch you."
The shadows around her shivered in response.
"And every part of you," he said softly, "is trying to come to me."
Her lips parted—but no sound came out.
The bond tightened again—hot, sharp, intimate. It twisted low in her stomach, sending a pulse of heat through her that she almost moaned at.
His eyes darkened.
"Evelyn…"
The way he said her name.
Soft.Possessive.Fractured.
It did things to her she didn't want to acknowledge.
She backed up a step. "Don't."
Ronan followed her that same step without thinking.
"You feel it," he said, voice rough. "I know you do."
She shook her head. "It's not me—it's the bond."
"Then why," he murmured, "does your heartbeat change when I get close?"
Her breath caught.
"And why," he continued, stepping closer, "do your pupils dilate every time I say your name?"
"Stop."
"And why," he whispered, now inches from her again, "do your shadows reach for me when you're not looking?"
She froze.
He wasn't lying.
A thin wisp of shadow curled around her ankle—reaching toward him like a hand.
She gasped and jumped away.
Ronan exhaled shakily. "Evelyn… the bond is coming back."
One more beat.
One more breath.
Then he said it:
"It's only a matter of time before you become mine again."
The bond snapped tight enough to steal her air.
Heat flooded her chest.
Hatred, fear, longing—all tangled into one impossible feeling.
Evelyn shoved past him, voice cracking.
"I will never be yours."
Ronan didn't stop her.
He just watched her with eyes that glowed like molten silver.
"Evelyn," he said softly, almost broken, "you already are."