Chapter 11
973 Words
Ronan POV
I made it through the rest of the day on autopilot, handling pack business and avoiding the increasingly obvious attempts by various she-wolves to corner me for private conversations. By the time evening came around, I was exhausted and irritated and wanted nothing more than to hide in my office with a bottle of whiskey.
Instead, I found myself at the pack dinner, sitting at the head table and watching the social dynamics play out like a complicated chess game.
Vesper sat at my right, discussing her herb garden plans with animated gestures. Taryn had claimed the seat across from me and kept finding excuses to lean forward in ways that showed off her assets. Vivica held court at a nearby table, surrounded by her usual admirers but occasionally sending meaningful looks in my direction.
And at the far end of the head table, almost forgotten in the political maneuvering, sat Elara.
She looked beautiful tonight in a simple blue dress that brought out her eyes. Her auburn hair was pulled back in an elegant style that made her look older, more mature. She spoke quietly with Luna Helena and the pack Elders, contributing thoughtfully to their discussion about trade negotiations with the coastal packs.
Watching her, I was struck by how much she'd changed from the thirteen-year-old who'd accepted my claiming with starry-eyed wonder. At seventeen, she carried herself with quiet confidence, spoke intelligently about pack business, and commanded respect from the Elders who'd known her since she was a child.
She was going to make a good Luna. Maybe even a great one.
"Ronan?" Vesper's voice cut through my thoughts. "You seemed a million miles away."
"Just thinking about pack business," I lied.
"Well, save some energy for after dinner," she said with a sultry smile. "I still want to show you those garden plans. In detail."
Across the table, Taryn pouted. "But Ronan, you promised to look at my patrol schedules tonight. I've been working on them all week."
The two she-wolves glared at each other with barely concealed hostility, and I realized this was exactly what Damien had been warning me about. I'd created this situation by being careless with my attention, and now it was spiraling out of control.
"Actually," I said, standing abruptly, "I have some Alpha business to attend to tonight. Maybe we can discuss gardens and patrols tomorrow."
Both women looked disappointed, but they couldn't argue with Alpha duties. I made my excuses and headed for the door, needing air and space to think.
I'd almost made it to the exit when a soft voice stopped me. "Ronan?"
I turned to find Elara approaching, her expression hesitant but determined. Up close, I could see the maturity in her face, the way she'd grown into her features over the past few years.
"Are you alright?" she asked quietly. "You seem... tense tonight."
The simple question, asked without agenda or ulterior motive, almost undid me. When was the last time someone had asked how I was feeling without wanting something in return?
"Just pack business," I said, the lie coming easier this time.
She nodded, but her green eyes were knowing. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm a good listener. Luna Helena says it's one of the most important skills for leadership."
For a moment, I almost said yes. I almost told her about the pressure I was feeling, the expectations weighing on me, the confusion about our future. But then I remembered she was seventeen years old and four months away from being bound to me for life, whether she wanted it or not.
"I should let you get back to dinner," I said instead.
Her face fell slightly, but she smiled anyway. "Of course. Have a good evening, Ronan."
I watched her walk back to the head table, her spine straight and her head held high despite my obvious dismissal. She rejoined the conversation with the Elders as if nothing had happened, but I caught the way Luna Helena's eyes followed me with disapproval.
Outside, the air was sharp and clean, carrying the scent of snow and pine. I walked the territory boundaries until my restless energy was spent, trying to sort through the tangle of expectations and desires, and obligations that defined my life.
Four months. In four months, Elara would turn eighteen, and everything would change. The pack expected us to complete the mating bond, to start building the future that had been planned since she was thirteen years old.
But did she want that? In all the years since her claiming, I'd never bothered to ask.
The timeline that had once stretched endlessly ahead of me was now racing toward a conclusion I wasn't sure I was ready for. Years had become months, and months would soon become weeks, then days.
Maybe it was time I found out what kind of man I wanted to be when that day arrived.
Or maybe, a voice in the back of my mind whispered, it's time to figure out if the Moon Goddess made a mistake.
I pushed the thought away and headed back to the Alpha house, but it followed me like a shadow, growing larger with each step.
Four months to decide the rest of my life. Four months to figure out if I could love a girl I'd never really tried to know. Four months until everything changed forever.
I thought back to the look on Elara face when she'd asked if I was alright. There was no agenda there, no angle. Just... care. The kind of quiet, steady care I hadn't realized I was starving for. And I had pushed it away.
Because accepting it meant accepting everything else that came with her—the bond, the future, the end of the life I knew and enjoyed.
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