KAIA'S POV
The guards escort me through the pack house corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. I keep my head high, refusing to show any fear or weakness, even though my heart is hammering against my ribs.
"Where exactly are we going?" I ask the scarred guard.
"Ronan's chambers," he replies without looking at me. "Alpha's orders."
Ronan's chambers. My stomach flips with a mixture of nervousness and something I don't want to acknowledge.
They stop in front of massive oak doors carved with intricate wolf designs. The scarred guard pushes them open and gestures for me to go in.
"He'll be with you shortly," the guard says, then closes the doors behind me with a heavy thud.
I'm alone.
The room is enormous. A sitting area with leather chairs by a fireplace. Bookshelves lining one wall. A massive desk covered in papers. And in the back, a four-poster bed that dominates the space.
This is Ronan's private sanctuary. His most personal space.
I take a few more steps into the room, my eyes darting around, cataloging everything I see. There's a bedside table with drawers that look promising. A cabinet that might hold personal files. A chest at the foot of the bed that could contain anything.
This is my chance. Maybe my only chance to find some proof about Marcus or what really happened to Kelly.
I move toward the bedside table, my heart racing. If I can just get one drawer open—
The door opens behind me.
I spin around to find Ronan standing in the doorway, watching me with an amused expression. He steps inside and closes the door with a deliberate click.
"I was just... looking around," I say, trying to sound casual.
"Were you?" he asks, moving further into the room. "And what exactly were you hoping to find?"
"Nothing," I lie. "I was just curious about your room."
He smirks. "My room."
The way he says it makes heat pool in my belly despite everything. Damn this mark and the way it makes my body respond to him.
"I'm just here because the guards brought me," I say firmly. "But I want to make something very clear."
"What's that?" he asks, moving closer.
"I will never have sex with you," I say, meeting his eyes directly. "No matter what this mark makes me feel, no matter what pack law says, I will never willingly give myself to you."
His smirk widens. "Is that so?"
"Yes," I snap. "That's so."
"You know what I like about you, Kaia?" he says, still advancing toward me.
"I don't care what you like about me."
"I like how you're always challenging me," he continues as if I hadn't spoken. "Always pushing back, always fighting. That's exactly what I like in women."
I back up a step. "Good for you."
"And that's exactly what I want from my future Luna," he adds. "Not some white bunny type of girl who just smiles and nods at everything I say."
"I'm not your future Luna," I remind him.
"But you are," he says, his voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that makes my knees weak. "Whether you want to be or not."
I take another step backward. "I told you—"
"I want a fire-lady," he interrupts, still moving toward me. "Independent. With her own desires. Someone who can match me in every way."
"Well, you're looking at the wrong girl," I say, continuing to back away.
"Am I?" he asks, and suddenly he lunges forward.
I stumble backward, my back hitting the wall with a soft thud. Before I can move, his hands slam against the stone on either side of my head, caging me in.
"Let me go," I breathe.
"You're magnificent when you're angry," he says, leaning closer. "Do you know that? Your eyes flash, your cheeks flush, and you look like you could set the world on fire."
"Ronan, step back."
"I can smell your arousal," he continues, his face inches from mine. "You can say you don't want me all you like, but your body tells a different story."
"My body is a liar," I say through gritted teeth.
"Is it?" he asks, leaning even closer. "Or is it the only honest thing about this whole situation?"
His scent surrounds me, making my head spin. The mark on my neck throbs with each beat of my heart, sending waves of unwanted pleasure through my system.
"Get away from me," I whisper.
"Why?" he asks. "Afraid you might actually enjoy it?"
"I'm afraid I might kill you," I shoot back.
He laughs, the sound rich and warm. "There's my fire-lady."
His body is pressed against mine now, pinning me to the wall. I can feel his heat, his strength, the hard planes of his chest against my softer curves.
"You want me," he says against my ear. "Admit it."
"Never," I breathe.
"Your pulse is racing," he murmurs, his lips brushing against my neck. "Your breathing is shallow. Your pupils are dilated."
"That's fear, not arousal," I lie.
"Is it?" he asks, pulling back to look at me. "Then why are you trembling?"
Because you're right, I think. Because despite everything I know about you and your family, despite my plans for revenge, despite all the reasons I should hate you, I want you so badly it hurts.
But I'll die before I admit that out loud.
"Because I'm angry," I say instead.
"Good," he says, his voice rough with desire. "I like you angry."
His hand moves to cup my face, his thumb stroking across my cheek. The gentle touch is so at odds with his dominant position that it makes my breath catch.
"Let me show you how good we could be together," he whispers.
"No," I say firmly.
"Just once," he continues. "Let me prove to you that this bond between us could be something beautiful."
"I said no."
But he's not listening. His other hand slides down to my waist, pulling me closer against him. I can feel his arousal pressing against me, proof of how much he wants this.
"Ronan, stop," I warn.
"Just let me—"
"If you try to rape me, I will—"
"Rape?" he interrupts, his entire body going still.
The word hangs between us like a blade. His hands drop away from me immediately, and he steps back as if I've slapped him.
"Rape?" he repeats, his brow furrowed in confusion and something that looks like hurt.