Chapter 4
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The Alpha who stepped out of the silver-white car was Ronan Frost.
Alpha of Glacier Peak Pack, one of the wealthiest packs in the eastern North.
He and Dominic were completely different kinds of men.
Dominic was like an unsheathed blade—cold, hard, sharp, always ready for a fight.
Ronan was more like winter sunlight.
Golden-brown hair. Gentle blue eyes. When he smiled, the corners of his eyes softened.
He walked onto the platform, bowed first to Caspian, then turned to me.
"Seraphina," he said my name as though it were something precious. "We met once, three years ago, on Blood Oath Day."
"You probably don't remember me."
Of course I remembered.
Three years ago, I had attended the pack anniversary celebration as the King's sister.
Every Alpha in the room had circled around me, their words never straying far from Nightriver's resources or my Silver Wolf bloodline.
Only Ronan had talked to me about other things.
About the greenhouse in his pack where they grew hundreds of medicinal herbs.
About what it felt like to run along the mountain ridge under a full moon.
From beginning to end, he had never once called me "the King's sister."
"I remember," I said.
Ronan smiled.
"I came here today," he said openly, looking at Caspian and then at me, "to formally ask Seraphina for a chance."
"Not for an alliance. Not for her bloodline."
"It's been three years, and I still haven't forgotten her."
Another wave of murmurs swept through the square.
I could feel Dominic's entire aura shift not far away.
It was the suffocating pressure of an Alpha pushed to the edge.
Varg must have been roaring inside him.
How ridiculous.
Only now, after seeing another Alpha show interest in me, did he finally panic.
Nyx drawled lazily in my mind.
"Oh, so now he's worried."
"Too late."
I ignored her.
"Alpha Ronan," I said, "thank you for being honest with me."
"But I need time."
"Of course." Ronan nodded without the slightest hint of pressure. "You deserve to be treated well. And you deserve to make your own choice."
His words were calm.
But they landed like a clean slap across Dominic's face.
I saw Dominic's jaw tighten so hard it looked close to breaking.
Over the next few days, I stayed in a private residence near Ashfall territory.
Caspian assigned warriors to guard me, and no one dared object.
Ronan visited every day.
He never came empty-handed, but he never brought anything flashy or expensive.
Sometimes, it was a bouquet of flowers he had cut himself from his greenhouse.
Sometimes, it was a small jar of Wolfroot Brew, good for nurturing a Silver Wolf's spiritual essence.
Since he knew I was a healer, he talked with me about herbs, poison resistance, and the kind of details only another person in the field would understand.
He never rushed me.
He never asked for anything in return.
And Dominic?
He had no right to step into the residence.
But I could always feel that familiar, restless presence outside the walls.
Like a wolf locked beyond the border, keeping watch day and night.
Once, in the middle of the night, I opened my window and happened to see a dark figure standing beyond the wall.
He didn't come closer.
He didn't speak.
He simply stood there in the moonlight, staring toward the residence from a distance.
Like a wolf who had finally realized what he had lost, but no longer dared to approach.
At dusk on the third day, Ronan came to invite me out.
"The next full moon is the Moonlight Festival," he said. "Glacier Peak hosts a grand celebration every year."
"Would you... be willing to spend it with me?"
Before I could answer, the courtyard gate was suddenly pushed open.
Dominic stood at the entrance, breathing heavily, his eyes bloodshot.
He hadn't even asked to be announced.
"She's not going," he said, his voice forced through clenched teeth.
Ronan turned to look at him, calm as ever.
"Alpha Dominic," he said, "that is Seraphina's choice. Not yours."
Dominic stared at me.
I doubted he even realized how unlike himself he looked.
The Alpha who was always calm, always controlled, always putting his pack first—
now looked like a man on the verge of falling apart.
"Sera," he said hoarsely. "I need to talk to you."
"Alone."
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