I’ve no idea where he’s going with this—Ronan isn’t a traitor. I’m not going to engage with him, though. I need to find a way out of this. I look around the room, desperate for any kind of weapon, as he continues, “The pack will see that choosing you at the ceremony was a facade. I hear you already have a pup together; he’s just been waiting to bring your whole treacherous family back into the pack. The elders won’t stand for it. The pack won’t stand for it. You’re making this hard, though. I was just going to drag you down there, but this is too good to pass up. He hasn’t knotted you yet, has he?”
My blood runs cold, but I barely have time to react as the door splinters, flying open. Maddox is through the wreckage before I can even scream. He’s enormous, filling the doorway, and the sight of him triggers a wave of pure animal terror in me. I scramble backward, palms scraping on the floor, but he’s already stalking toward me.
“You should see yourself,” he says, voice curling around the words as he stalks closer. “You’re lit up like a bonfire. Never seen a bitch burn so hot.”
I try to push myself further back, but my legs are almost useless. Maddox laughs, bending down and catching my ankle with one hand. His grip is crushing, and he drags me toward him with no more effort than hauling a sack of flour, and I claw at the carpet, helpless.
He’s close now; I know there’s no escape. I watch in horror as his other hand goes to his belt, tugging it open. “Don’t try to fight it,” he says. “Change of plans. I’m going to knot youso hard you’ll be begging on my cock. My wolf gets the surge in power that’s due to me, and I’ll keep fucking you until Ronan gets back here. My wolf will be so pumped, I’ll easily take him out.”
I whimper, the slick still pouring out of my treacherous body. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not going to keep you. I’ll finish you, too, traitor. The whole story is perfect—we can thank Emily for giving me the plausible idea. Speaking of, I’ll be taking Emily for my luna. I’ll have no problem knotting her every night, whether she’s in heat or not.”
My stomach roils as I stare into his black eyes, which barely look like a wolf’s or a human’s, just plain evil. How did no one see how dangerous he was before? His hands tear at my thin dress like it’s nothing, and the fabric peels away from my skin in shreds, baring my breasts, which are so swollen and sensitive that the air itself feels like a slap. Maddox stares at them for a moment, his lips curling in a sneer, and then he grabs one in a bruising grip, squeezing until I cry out.
“Look at these,” he says, almost in awe. “You were made for this.” His hands are everywhere at once, pinning my wrists, raking my thighs apart with force. My wolf is frantic, but my body is weak with heat and terror, and shame at how easily I open for him. The truth is, even as I scream inside for Ronan, my body is desperate for the knot.
Maddox lets go of my wrist to release his cock, and I use my last shred of energy to claw at his face, but he catches my hand, twisting it behind my back until I hear a pop and sob in agony.
“Don’t fight me, bitch,” he snarls.
The tears are running down my face, and I shut my eyes to try and block out what he’s going to do, when suddenly hishands and the sickening weight of his body vanish. My eyes snap open, and all I see is a blur of fur and muscle exploding across the room. I see Maddox’s face for a split second, contorted in something like shock.
Ronan.
He’s mid-shift and all fangs, claws, the rip of his jaw split wide, and eyes gone pure, burning yellow. The room shudders under the weight of him as he crashes into Maddox and flings him down again, this time into the wall. Maddox howls, blood arcing across the wall as he shifts. I dash into the corner and try to protect my naked body as the two enormous wolves tear into each other right in front of me.
Chapter 17 - Ronan
I’m surprised how calm I feel driving back to the house. Jacob's little speech really helped me put into perspective how I feel and what I want. My mate, this pack, and to show everyone that Ava isn’t her parents, so that we can live as a proper alpha couple.
It’s so damn simple, my wolf is kicking me for not just owning the situation from the start. As I drive, the clearest thoughts in my head aren’t about the impending challenge, not about Maddox or the council or the risk to my own life. Instead, it’s about how I’m going to walk into that house, look Ava in the eye, and tell her the truth. Not the truth about the pack or my position or any of the bullshit I used to think mattered, but the simple, almost embarrassing truth that I want her. I always did. I want to knot her, claim her, see her rounded with my pups, and never let her out of my sight again.
I want her to really come home and be a part of this pack, rather than just be a breeding omega with no voice.
The closer I get to the house, the more I realize how impossible I let it become. My father’s leadership was about never letting the pack down. He banished Ava’s parents for good reason, but he also believed in second chances—he would have let Ava come back if she proved herself. He wouldn’t have kept her hidden away like I have; that’s on me.
But he got sick so fast. He was old, as old as even Elder Wilde, and the pack’s certainty turned fractious, full of anxiety over the future. I had to step up as he faded, but with every decision I made, I could feel people measuring me against him. It got even more pronounced when he passed, and they were comparing me to his memory. I don’t think I’ve ever stoppedfeeling like I’m just a placeholder, a not-quite-right copy of the real thing. That’s why I’ve been so careful, so desperate not to make mistakes, not to fuck anything up. The pack needs me to be a sure thing, to never let doubt or weakness show.
Choosing Ava that day was instinctual; my wolf knew what he wanted, and there was no other option for me. But my actions ever since? The notion that she is just for breeding and otherwise unimportant? That was me being a coward. More afraid of how things wouldlookrather than having to deal with it head-on.
Ava is the girl who made me feel like myself all those years ago, the one who made me laugh, the one who made me feel like a man long before I was one. The only woman who challenged me. Whatever she’s hiding, whatever her reluctance stems from. I’m going to remind her of who we were together before her parents' betrayal, without the weight of pack expectations. We’ll build something new, something we always should have had the chance to have.
If I’m going to be the alpha, then it will be my own version of an alpha. I need to be able to show the pack I walk the right version of my own path, and that includes not being ashamed of my mate.
I’m a few minutes out when my wolf sits bolt upright in my chest. The scent is wrong. Not just the oppressive haze of Ava’s heat peaking, it’s more than that, layered with something sharp and metallic, a tang that I shouldn’t be scenting here. I slow the truck, rolling to a silent stop below the crest of the drive, out of sight from the house. My head floods with a thousand alarms at once, the hackles on my neck prickling in warning.
I kill the engine. Everything is quiet in a way that’s instantly, chillingly suspicious. No guard at the gate. Nooverwhelming scent of strong coffee—the one vice my beta never could quit and usually consumes all day long in his truck. I scan the tree line, every sense flaring. It’s a second before I spot the truck, half-concealed, off the side of the drive under a shadow of pines. I slip out, leaving the door open, and stalk down the gravel, careful not to make a sound.
Garrison is inside, slumped over the wheel. The angle of his body is all wrong; his neck is bent in a break that makes my stomach turn. Blood is drying in a thin, dark line from his ear. I know, with a sick certainty, that he’s dead. I force myself to look for a moment, letting the rage settle into my bones. His loss is going to be felt hard by the whole pack.
Another scent hits me, so sure and deep, I inhale. Maddox.
I don’t waste a second. I text Jacob, “Maddox. House.” I don’t even bother waiting for a reply; my wolf has already barreled past logic, past the need to analyze, plan, or grieve. The wolf needs vengeance, and I’m going to let him have it.
The house is too quiet, too dark despite the sunshine outside. Ava’s scent is everywhere, an intoxicating, feverish cloud of slick and need, but there’s a new edge to it now. The unmistakable tang of terror, sour and raw. Another scent is strong here, too, and I know he’s inside the house.
I tear through the house on instinct as I feel the shift rising, fur prickling, jaw stretching, claws erupting from my hands. I slam my shoulder into the banister and bound up the hardwood stairs three at a time, following the scent trail.
The door to her room is gone, just splintered wood jutting out from the destroyed frame. I take in the scene in front of me: Maddox, one knee between her legs, holding both her wrists above her head with one hand, the other hand twisting what’sleft of her dress up around her hips. She’s almost completely naked, legs kicking, face twisted with pure animal panic. Her thigh is slick with blood where his claws have raked red streaks across her pale skin.
