The moment Ronan stepped back into the room, I knew. I had heard everything.
I swallowed hard, my body still pulsing with heat, my head a mess of emotions I wasn’t ready for. “Do you… do you think it’s true?” My voice was quiet, but the weight of the question pressed between us. “Do you think I’ll go feral if we don’t complete the bond?”
Ronan hesitated, and that was enough of an answer.
My stomach twisted. “What do we do?”
His jaw tensed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “We’ll figure something out.”
The uncertainty in his voice unsettled me. I shifted, trying to ignore the way my skin burned. “What if—what if Orla can do something? A spell? A suppressant? Anything?”
He exhaled sharply. “I’ll ask her.”
He turned toward the door, but I wasn’t done yet. “Ronan?”
He stopped
