Chapter 266
Ronan's POV
The ultimatum hung between us, sharp and unforgiving, and I knew in that moment that I'd lost this fight before it even began, that Elowen was going to do what Elowen was going to do regardless of what I said or did, and my only choice was whether to let her go alone or swallow my pride and go with her to make sure she didn't get herself killed.
She's not backing down, Soren observed, his tone shifting from amused to resigned. You know she won't. Not when it comes to him.
I did know. I'd known from the moment I heard that front door open, from the moment Soren had smugly predicted she'd take my truck, that this was how it was going to end: with me giving in, with me choosing her safety over my own anger, with me climbing into that passenger seat and going along with her terrible, reckless, completely predictable plan to save a man who didn't deserve saving.
But before I could make that decision, before I could swallow my pride and admit defeat, I reached out through the mind link to Kade, my mental voice sharp with frustration and worry as I filled him in on what was happening.
Elowen's taking my truck. Going after Casper. Won't listen to reason. Need backup.
There was a pause, long enough that I thought maybe Kade was going to ignore me, was going to leave me to deal with this mess on my own, but then his voice came through the link, dry and unimpressed in a way that made me want to punch him almost as much as I wanted to punch myself for letting things get this far.
Then go with her, you idiot. Be a good little guard dog and make sure she doesn't get herself killed.
"She's not going to let me go alone," I shot back, frustration bleeding into every word. "Either you come with us, or she's going with me, and she's not going to let me go by myself."
This, Kade said, his mental voice dripping with the kind of exasperation that suggested he'd reached his limit with all of us, is exactly why I stay away from women. Too much drama. Too many feelings. Too many midnight rescue missions that end with someone getting punched.
And then he cut the connection, leaving me standing there in the cold, barefoot and shirtless, staring at Elowen through the windshield of my truck while she waited for me to make a decision that we both already knew I was going to make.
You know Kade's not actually going to let her go alone, Soren said, his tone shifting to something almost gentle, almost understanding. He's probably already getting dressed. Probably already planning how he's going to lecture both of you when this is over. He won't let her go into danger without backup, even if he acts like he doesn't care.
"He has cameras in the bathroom?" I asked, latching onto that detail because it was easier than thinking about the fact that I was about to climb into my truck with a pregnant woman who was hell-bent on rescuing her ex-mate, easier than acknowledging that this whole situation was fucked up in ways I didn't even know how to begin untangling.
Not in the bathroom, Soren clarified, and I could hear the amusement creeping back into his voice. But everywhere else. He's probably watching right now. Watching her in your truck. Watching you standing there like an idiot trying to figure out what to do. Watching and calculating and trying to decide if he should intervene or let this play out.
The thought of Kade sitting in his room, staring at a laptop screen, watching this entire drama unfold in real-time while he debated whether or not to come down here and physically drag Elowen back inside, was both comforting and deeply disturbing, and I filed it away under "things to yell at Kade about later" because right now I had bigger problems.
I looked back at Elowen, at the determination in her eyes, at the way her hand rested protectively over her slightly rounded belly, and I knew that Kade was right to be worried, knew that this whole situation had the potential to go sideways in about seventeen different ways, most of which ended with someone getting hurt.
"He's going to have to actually touch her to drag her back," I muttered, more to myself than to Soren. "And that's not happening."
He does touch her, Soren pointed out, because apparently my wolf had decided to be helpful tonight instead of his usual brand of cryptically annoying. Not like that. But he touches her. Helps her. Steadies her when she's dizzy. Checks her pulse. Makes sure she's eating enough.
The mental image of Kade's hands on Elowen made something uncomfortable twist in my gut, something that felt uncomfortably close to jealousy or possessiveness or some other emotion I didn't want to examine too closely because she was my sister, my responsibility, and the thought of anyone else touching her—even in a completely innocent, medical way—made me want to break things.
"That's—" I started, but Soren cut me off before I could finish the thought.
They're half-siblings, he said bluntly. Same father, different mothers. It's not that uncommon in wolf packs. Hell, it's practically traditional in some of the older bloodlines. Get over it.
"I'm going to punch him," I said, because apparently that was my solution to everything tonight, and Soren's mental laughter echoed through our connection.
This was going to be a long fucking night.