Crash-Landed On An Island With Lycans

5: The King's Mate

The square was still silent. Hundreds of villagers remained on their knees. The wolves hadn't moved from their bellies.

Ronan stared at the key in my palm like it was a wound that wouldn't heal.

"You asked me how I have it," I said. "Now I'm asking you why you care."

He didn't answer. Instead, he turned to the crowd. "Return to your homes. All of you. Now."

The eldest elder stepped forward. "Ronan..."

"I said now."

The crowd dispersed slowly, reluctantly, their eyes still clinging to me as they disappeared into the winding streets.

When the square was empty, Ronan finally looked at me.

"That object is called the King's Key."

"Who gave it to me?"

His eyes sharpened. "You tell me."

"Don't do that." Frustration bled into my voice. "You recognized it. Explain it."

A long pause. The blue flames reflected in his eyes.

"My grandfather," I said finally. "He gave it to me right before I boarded the plane."

The memory surfaced. My grandfather's hand pressing the key into my palm. His voice in my ear.

Protect this. Trust no one.

"He gave me a sealed note too. Told me to read it on the plane. I never got the chance."

Something shifted in Ronan's expression. Just a tightening around his eyes.

"You know him." I stepped closer. "You know my grandfather."

He didn't answer.

"Ronan."

His eyes settled on me. Cold. Unreadable.

"What was his name?"

I studied him. "William Ashford."

Something passed across his face...too fast to read. For one unguarded second, I saw pain. Then it was gone.

One of the elders who hadn't yet left turned sharply at the name. Her face drained of color.

My stomach clenched. They knew him.

"Your grandfather knew about this island," Ronan said quietly.

"He knew this place existed?"

Ronan looked at the key. "He knew enough to make sure it reached you."

I remembered my grandfather's fear. The way his hands had trembled when he pressed the key into my palm. The way he'd said trust no one like he was running out of time.

"Did he send me here? Was the crash..."

"No." A beat. "But I don't believe it was an accident that you came."

The words hit me like cold water. If Ethan had planned the crash...and if my grandfather had known about this island...then where did one conspiracy end and the other begin?

"You know more than you're telling me."

"Yes."

"Then tell me."

Ronan held my gaze. "Some truths have buried kingdoms before. I'm not going to tell you everything tonight."

"Then what are you going to tell me?"

He looked at the key again. "Come with me."

"Where?"

"The Moon Shrine."

I hesitated. Every instinct told me to argue.

But I wanted answers. And I wasn't going to get them standing in the middle of a street.

"Fine."

He turned and walked. I followed.

Before we disappeared into the narrow alleyways, I glanced back at the square. The villagers who remained weren't looking at me like a stranger. They were looking at me like someone they'd been waiting for.

Ronan noticed. "Don't mistake their fear for loyalty."

I looked at him. "I don't."

I closed my fingers around the key and followed him into the shadows.

The path led through the oldest part of the kingdom. Narrow streets, ancient buildings, blue lanterns casting pools of cold light across the cobblestones.

I noticed the carvings along the walls. Some depicted Lycans. Some depicted humans. But one carving stopped me cold.

A woman stood at the center of the image, arms raised, a silver object held above her head. The symbol matched the key in my palm exactly.

"Who is she?"

Ronan stopped. He didn't turn around.

"Someone who should have been forgotten."

"Was she human?"

Silence.

"Ronan."

He finally looked at me. "You're going to ask questions I can't answer."

"Then stop giving me answers I can't trust."

He held my gaze for a moment. Something flickered in his eyes...irritation, maybe. But he didn't answer.

We walked in silence.

The Moon Shrine rose at the end of the path...ancient, circular, surrounded by stone wolves with bowed heads. At the center, a stone pedestal bore the same symbol as my key.

Ronan stopped at the entrance. "Place it there."

I looked at him. "What will happen?"

"I don't know."

I crossed to the pedestal. My hands were shaking slightly. I pressed my palms flat against my thighs to steady them.

I placed the key inside.

Nothing happened.

For a long moment, the shrine was silent. I felt foolish, standing there with my hand still resting on the key.

Then the silver light returned.

It spread from the key like water from a cracked vessel, pouring across the pedestal, across the floor, climbing the ancient walls. The symbol blazed bright as a star.

And the stone wolves outside began to howl.

One voice. Then another. Then the entire shrine echoed with sound.

I heard Ronan's breathing change.

I turned.

His eyes had shifted to amber. His pupils were dilated. His hands were clenched at his sides, muscles straining beneath his skin. His wolf was fighting to surface.

"Ronan."

"Stay back."

"What's happening?"

He took a step away from me. Then another. His jaw was tight, his breathing ragged.

"Ronan. Talk to me."

"Stay away from me."

I didn't move. I couldn't. Something was pulling me toward him...an invisible thread from my chest, from somewhere deeper than thought.

I took a step closer.

His eyes snapped to mine. "I said stay back."

I didn't.

I felt it then...a warmth spreading through my ribs, a sense of recognition that made no sense. My heart was beating faster, but not from fear.

I touched my chest instinctively.

Ronan saw it.

And his expression shifted. Not anger. Realization.

Suddenly, he turned and walked away.

I followed. "Ronan!"

He didn't stop.

"Stop!"

He stopped.

I caught up to him, breathless, my heart still pounding with something I refused to name.

"Why are you running?"

He didn't turn around. "Because if I stay..." His voice cracked. "I won't be able to..."

"To what?"

"I'll tell you a truth you don't want to hear."

"Then tell me."

He finally turned.

His eyes were still amber. His wolf still fighting to surface. But he was holding it back through sheer will.

"You feel it too," he said. "Don't lie to me."

My pulse quickened. "Feel what?"

"The bond."

He said it like the word was poison.

I stared at him. "What are you talking about?"

His hands clenched at his sides. His jaw was so tight I could see the muscles working beneath his skin.

"Every Lycan knows when they've found their mate," he said slowly. "I knew the moment I saw you."

The words settled over me like cold water.

"No."

"It's not a choice. I didn't choose this. Neither did you."

"I'm not your mate."

He looked at me. There was something raw in his expression now. Something almost pained.

"The bond isn't one-sided," he said quietly. "You felt it in the shrine. When I pulled away, you followed. You couldn't help yourself."

I opened my mouth to argue.

But I remembered the warmth in my chest. The sense of recognition that had made no sense. The way my body had moved toward him before my mind caught up.

"No," I said again. But my voice was weaker now.

"Clara..."

"I reject it." I stepped back from him. "Whatever this bond is, I reject it."

His expression flickered. "That's not..."

"I don't care." My voice was rising. "My plane was sabotaged. I survived a crash that should have killed me. Your wolves dragged us here. Your people bow when they see me. My grandfather gave me a key he never explained. And now you're telling me some invisible bond has decided I'm supposed to belong to you?"

"I never said you belong to me."

"Then what are you saying?"

He held my gaze. "I'm saying the bond exists. What we do about it is our choice."

I shook my head. "I didn't choose this."

"Neither did I."

"Good." I stepped back again. "Because I don't want it."

Something shifted in his expression. Not anger. Something older.

"No one in this kingdom has ever rejected a mate bond," he said quietly.

I looked at him.

"I'm not nobody."

For a long moment, neither of us spoke.

The blue flames flickered in their cages. The howling had stopped. The shrine was silent.

And for the first time since I'd met the Lycan King, Ronan looked at me not like a stranger, not like a threat, but like a man who had just realized his greatest problem had chosen to fight back.