23

THE ALPHA'S SECRET

Night 3 of 30.

Ronan woke to growling.

Not his. Not inside.

Outside.

Dozens of wolves. His wolves.

He was on his feet before his eyes were open. Selene sat up in the armchair — they’d moved to separate rooms after Rule Two: _No more sharing a bed_. She looked at him. No words. But he felt her fear. Sharp. Cold. Not for herself.

For _him_.

The bond was getting worse. Or better. He couldn’t tell anymore.

“They’re here,” he said.

“I know.” She was already dressed. Black tactical pants, black sweater, hair braided back. No red dress. Battle clothes. “Your pack.”

“How—”

“I can hear heartbeats through stone, Alpha. There’s 40 of them. And one of them wants you dead.”

That would be Jace. His Beta. His brother in everything but blood.

Ronan ran a hand through his hair. “Stay here. Ward the room. Don’t come out.”

“Like hell.” She stood. “If they see you protecting me, they’ll call you traitor. If they see me hiding, they’ll call me weak. We die either way.”

“We don’t die.”

“Liar,” she whispered. But she didn’t sound mad. She sounded scared.

He hated that.

---

*The Courtyard.*

40 wolves in human form. Leather, denim, scars. His pack. His family. The ones he’d bled for, killed for, led for 200 years.

At the front: Jace. Blond. Blue eyes. Built like a tank. His right hand since the Blood Wars.

Jace’s eyes went to the bite marks on Ronan’s wrist. Fresh. Still pink. Then to the castle. Then back to Ronan.

“Brother,” Jace said. Voice loud. For the pack. “We felt the Blood Moon. We felt _her_. The last Drayce lives.”

“She’s not—”

“We _smell_ her on you,” snarled Mara, his Third. She was 5’2 and meaner than a rabid wolverine. “You stink of vampire, Alpha. You stink of _blood sharing_.”

The pack shifted. Growls. Claws popping.

Ronan stepped forward. Put himself between them and the castle doors. “Listen to me. All of you. The treaty activated. The Blood Moon bound us. If she dies, I die. If I die, the pack dies with me. Alpha bond breaks. You go feral.”

“Then we break the bond,” Jace said. “Old ways. Blood of the Alpha, freely given, can sever a soul tie. You cut your throat, brother. We burn her. War ends. We win.”

Ice slid down Ronan’s spine.

The old ways. He’d forgotten. Or hoped everyone else had.

“Jace.” He kept his voice level. “You’re talking about me dying.”

“I’m talking about you _sacrificing_,” Jace corrected. “Like an Alpha should. For his pack. For the wolves she killed. For your parents. For _my_ sister.”

Elena. Jace’s little sister. Killed by Selene’s sire 200 years ago. Ronan had carried her body home himself.

The pack went silent. Waiting.

This was it. The test.

Ronan could feel Selene. Through the stone. Through the bond. Her heart was hammering. Not with fear. With rage.

_Don’t you dare die for me, you stupid wolf._

He almost smiled.

“I’m not dying today,” Ronan said. Loud. Clear. Alpha voice. The one that made wolves kneel. “And I’m not killing her. The treaty says 30 nights. We keep the peace, the war doesn’t restart. You want to ‘cleanse the world’? That’s what the Hunters want. You want to be their puppet?”

“_She’s_ the puppet master!” Mara screamed. “She’s in your head! She’s making you say this!”

“Am I?” Ronan ripped his shirt off.

The pack flinched.

On his chest, over his heart: the wolf mark. Black. Intricate. Howling at a blood moon. And around it — veins of silver. Like cracks in marble. Like _her_ magic was already in his blood.

“She’s not in my head,” Ronan said. “She’s in my _blood_. And I’m in hers. We’re bound. Break the bond wrong, and we all die. You, me, her, every pup in Blackthorn Hollow.”

Jace stared at the mark. His face was blank. Then: “Prove it.”

Ronan frowned. “What?”

“Prove she’s not controlling you.” Jace pulled a knife. Silver. Threw it. It landed at Ronan’s boots. “Bring her out. Make her kneel. Make her swear fealty to the pack. If she does it, if she _means_ it, we’ll wait 30 nights.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

“Then you kill her yourself. Or we do it for you. And we drag your corpse home after.”

The pack rumbled agreement.

Ronan’s wolf was _losing it_. _Threat threat threat KILL THEM ALL._

But he couldn’t. These were his people.

And Jace was right about one thing: If Selene didn’t play this smart, they were all dead.

He turned. Looked at the castle doors.

She was already there.

Selene Drayce stepped into the courtyard.

No flinching. No hiding. Head high. That red dress again — she’d changed. Battle armor in her way. Color of blood. Color of war.

The pack went silent.

She was beautiful. Terrifying. A queen from the old stories. The ones wolves told pups to make them behave.

She walked until she was 10 feet from Ronan. Didn’t look at him. Looked at Jace.

“You want me to kneel,” she said. Voice carried. No fear. Just ice. “To swear fealty to the wolves who burned my coven. Who put my mother’s head on a spike.”

Jace bared his teeth. “Your mother killed 300 of us.”

“And your Alpha’s father killed 400 of mine.” She tilted her head. “Shall we count corpses all day, _pup_, or shall we survive the month?”

The pack bristled. _Pup_. She’d called his Beta a pup.

Ronan saw red. Not anger. Panic. She was going to get herself killed.

Then he felt it. Through the bond.

She wasn’t angry. She was _performing_.

Playing the villain they expected. So they wouldn’t see the truth: she was shaking.

_Trust me_, her voice slid into his head. Not words. Feeling. _Play along._

Ronan’s breath caught. The bond could do that?

_Only if we let it_, she answered.

He trusted her. God help him, he did.

“Enough,” Ronan barked. Alpha voice. “Selene Drayce. You stand accused of war crimes against the Blackthorn Pack.”

Her silver eyes flicked to him. _Good. Angry. Keep going._

“You will answer for them,” he said. “But not today. The treaty binds us. 30 nights. You will stay in this castle. You will not feed on pack. You will not leave. Break the rules, and I end you myself.”

He picked up the silver knife. Walked to her.

The pack watched. Breathless.

He stopped in front of her. Close. Too close. He could smell winter roses and _his_ blood under her skin.

He leaned in. For the pack, it looked like a threat.

For her, he whispered: “I’m sorry.”

Then, louder: “Kneel.”

Selene’s eyes blazed. For a second, he thought she’d refuse. Tell him to go to hell.

Then, slow, deliberate, she sank to her knees. On the stone. In her red dress.

The pack gasped.

Vampires didn’t kneel. Not ever. Not to wolves.

She looked up at him. And he saw it. The cost. 200 years of pride, breaking. For _him_. For _them_.

“Do you swear it?” Ronan made his voice stone. “Do you swear to keep the peace for 30 nights?”

Selene’s voice was clear. Carried to every wolf.

“I swear it. By blood. By moon. By the treaty.” She lifted her chin. “But hear me, wolves of Blackthorn. I kneel for the treaty. Not for you. I kneel for _him_.”

Her eyes were on Ronan. Only him.

“Because he pulled me from the water when I was dying. Because he bled for me. Because he’s the only one in 200 years who looked at me and didn’t see a monster.”

Dead silence.

Ronan’s chest _ached_. The mark was burning. His wolf was howling _MINE MINE MINE_.

Jace’s face was a mask. “30 nights, brother. Then we finish this.”

“30 nights,” Ronan agreed.

Jace turned. Whistled. The pack melted back into the trees. One by one. Not happy. Not satisfied. But obeying.

Until it was just Jace.

He walked up to Ronan. Clasped his forearm. Brother to brother.

“You’re not the Alpha I knew,” Jace said. Quiet. So only Ronan heard. “The Ronan I knew would have ripped her throat out on Night 1.”

“The Ronan you knew was wrong,” Ronan said.

Jace looked at Selene. Still on her knees. Still watching.

“30 nights,” Jace repeated. “Then you come home. Or you don’t come home at all.”

He let go. Shifted. A massive blond wolf. And ran into the trees.

---

*After.*

Ronan didn’t move until the last wolf was gone. Then his knees almost gave out.

Selene was there. Suddenly. Helping him stand. Her hands were cold. Strong.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

“Yes, I did.” She wasn’t looking at him. She was looking at the treeline. “They would have killed you. And I…” Her voice broke. “I can’t do this alone.”

The bond hummed. Warm. _Safe safe safe._

Ronan looked at her. Really looked. Red dress. Bare knees on stone. Pride shredded for him.

He pulled her up. To her feet.

“You kneel for no one,” he said. Rough. “Ever again. Not even me.”

Her silver eyes went wide.

Then, before he could think, before he could _stop_ himself —

He kissed her forehead.

Just that. A brush of lips to skin. Over the vein in her temple. Where her blood ran. Where _his_ blood ran now.

Selene froze.

The bond _exploded_.

Not hunger. Not pain.

Relief. So big it drowned him. _He chose me he chose me he chose me._

And under it — his own feeling, mirrored back: _Mine. Finally. Mine._

Ronan ripped himself away. Staggered back. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” She was breathing hard.

“Don’t… feel that.” He pressed a hand to his chest. The mark was on fire. “The bond. It’s lying. It’s making us—”

“It’s not lying.” She stepped forward. “I felt you, Ronan. In the bath. When you thought I was dead. Your first thought wasn’t the bond. It was _don’t leave me_.”

“That’s—”

“The bond doesn’t create feelings. It _amplifies_ them.” She was close now. Too close. “So whatever you’re feeling? That’s you. Not magic. You.”

He couldn’t breathe.

Because she was right.

He wanted her. Not her blood. _Her_. The woman who read to orphans. Who kneeling for him. Who called Jace a pup to protect him.

“28 nights left,” Selene whispered. “And I’m not sure we’re going to make it.”

“Make what?”

“30 nights without breaking Rule One.”

Rule One: _We don’t touch if we don’t have to._

Ronan looked at her mouth. Red. Soft. Right there.

He wanted to break every rule he’d ever made.

“Go inside,” he said. Voice wrecked. “Please. Before I do something stupid.”

Selene searched his face. Then nodded. Once.

She walked back into the castle. Didn’t look back.

Ronan stayed in the courtyard. Until the sun set. Until Night 3 officially began.

28 nights left.

And he was already ruined.

*Rule #1: We don’t touch.*

*Rule #1: Broken.*

*[End of Episode 4]