Ronan did not wake gently.
The moment his eyes opened, the bond snapped tight between us—raw, electric, alive.
I felt it before I saw him.
A pulse.
Then heat.
Then the unmistakable surge of Alpha dominance rippling outward from the healer’s tent like a shockwave.
The clearing reacted instantly. Wolves stirred. Guards straightened. Kael’s jaw tightened.
Ronan was conscious.
And furious.
I stood slowly, muscles still trembling from the Trial, but something inside me had settled into steel.
“He shouldn’t be standing yet,” Kael muttered.
“He won’t be,” I replied calmly.
Because I knew.
Ronan didn’t wake weak.
He woke hunting.
The tent flap tore aside.
He stepped out barefoot, bandages half-unraveled, eyes blazing molten green. The air thickened around him as his power surged un
