THE RITUAL.
1281 Words
~~~RONAN.
She looked… wrong.
That was the first thing I noticed when I saw her on her knees, chained like something dragged through dirt and left there to be forgotten, with blood staining her lip, dust clinging to her skin, bruises scattered across her body like a silent story no one cared to read, and yet, despite all of it, she still tried to sit straight, like whatever pride she had left refused to die with her.
I had seen worse.
Hell, I had done worse.
So I should not have felt anything.
Yet something in my chest tightened, sharp and sudden, settling too close to anger for my liking, an emotion I had no use for, one I did not come here to entertain.
It was unnecessary.
I was not here for her pain, and I was certainly not here to save anyone.
I came for a purpose, nothing more.
Then she looked at me. Not with fear, like the others.
Not with hatred either, but with hope.
It sat there in her eyes, clear and fragile, almost enough to make me scoff, because she looked at me like I was something I had never been, a salvation.
If only she understood.
If only she knew what men like me did to things that hoped.
I stepped back slightly, and my men moved forward without command, breaking the chains from her wrists and ankles, the metal falling heavily to the ground with a dull, final sound.
She nearly went down with it.
Weak.
Of course she was.
“Stand,” one of my guards ordered.
I watched her struggle, watched the tremor in her limbs, and the way her body betrayed her even as she forced herself upright, unsteady yet stubborn enough to refuse the ground.
Useless.
And yet…
My gaze shifted away.
Alpha Bran stood before me, and I saw it immediately, that look men wore when they believed they had already won something, smug and careless, as if the outcome had never been in question.
He did not care that I was taking her.
Why would he?
In his mind, she had already died.
“Strange choice,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips, “taking damaged goods.”
I did not react.
“You kept her alive this long,” I replied, my voice even, uninterested.
He shrugged, casual, and dismissive, as though her life had never held weight to begin with.
“Barely.”
His gaze flicked toward her for a moment, then returned to me.
“We could host you,” he continued lightly, “a day or two before you continue your journey.”
The silence that followed stretched thin
“Touch her,” I said calmly, “and I will burn this pack to the ground.”
The shift in the air was immediate.
Tension snapped into place, invisible but unmistakable, pressing into every corner of the clearing.
He did not smile after that, did not speak and that was enough.
I turned away, already done with this place, and began to walk.
My men followed without hesitation, dragging her along with them.
She stumbled once, then again.
Barely keeping pace, her steps uneven, her breath catching in quiet, and strained sounds that carried more than she likely realized.
I heard it, every bit of it.
But I did not turn.
She would survive, or she wouldn’t and it made no difference.
At least, that was what I told myself.
———
The path out of Shadowcrest felt longer than when I arrived, the noise of the crowd fading behind us, replaced by something quieter, heavier, and a tension that lingered like a shadow that refused to fall away.
My thoughts drifted, uninvited, back to the elders of my pack.
“You did not need to come yourself,” one of them had said.
“We could have brought her to you,” another one added, his voice careful, measured in the way men spoke when they feared crossing a line they could not see.
“I want to see her,” I answered.
The words had gone unspoken, but they had settled between us all the same.
“You think she is different,” another elder said.
I did not respond immediately.
I had heard that before, and too many times.
“They all die,” I said instead, because that was the only truth that had ever mattered.
“And if she does not?” one asked quietly.
My gaze had lifted then. “Then she dies too.”
There had been nothing else to say.
Hope was a weakness and I did not deal in weakness.
“Her blood is ordinary,” the oldest added, slow and certain. “She is just an omega.”
It still meant nothing. I had heard promises before.
Whispers of endings, solutions, freedom and they all ended the same way. Death..
____
The journey back was silent.
No one spoke and she sat beside me, small, and quiet in a way that should have made her easy to ignore.
Almost.
But I was aware of her.
Of the way she held herself, like she did not know where to place her hands, of the tension in her shoulders, the slight tremor that never fully left her body, and of the way her breathing shifted whenever the silence stretched too long.
She was afraid and that was good because, oh, she should be.
______
The gates of Moonfang opened as we approached, the guards stepping aside immediately, heads lowering in silent respect as we passed through.
Everything here was controlled, disciplined and built on order and fear.
Eyes followed us as we stepped out and then they saw her.
The whispers began almost instantly, low and curious, slipping through the air like wind through dry leaves.
“Take her to the east wing,” I said.
“Yes, Alpha.”
They moved toward her, guiding her away, and she hesitated, just for a moment, her gaze lifting to mine like she wanted to speak, to ask something she did not have the courage to say aloud.
I did not allow it as I turned before she could.
Footsteps approached behind me.
“Are you sure this is the right move?” Kael asked.
His voice was quiet, but there was weight behind it.
I did not stop immediately. “It is the best one.”
“You have said that before.”
I slowed then, just slightly. Because he was not wrong.
I had said it before, too many times.
“How long do you think she will last?” he continued.
“Long enough.”
“For what?”
I turned just enough to look at him.
“To complete the ritual.”
His expression tightened, subtle but there, and he exhaled slowly.
“And if it does not work?”
I held his gaze. “Then nothing changes.”
“She dies,” he said plainly, because he had never been one to soften the truth, “and even if it does work… she still dies.”
“Yes.” I answered with no hesitation or doubt.
Kael watched me for a moment longer, searching for something I had no intention of giving.
“You did not look at her once on the journey,” he said finally.
“That is new,” he added when I didn’t say anything.
My jaw tightened, barely. “She means nothing,” I said.
And I meant it. I had to because anything else would be a mistake.
A dangerous one.
Kael did not argue.
He only nodded once before stepping back.
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