Chapter 23 – Bruised and Breathing
Eli
I wake to gray light and the scent of him.
The wool blanket is warm against my cheek. My my body feels heavy, but the burn is gone, leaving only a deep ache between my thighs and a raw pull where his mouth bruised my neck. Not only where the bite is. He left purple marks blooming all over me.
The air itself remembers him. Smoke and iron mixed with cedar, threaded through with something primal and entirely Ronan. It's embedded in every surface, every fiber, every inch of me. I can still taste the ghost of him when my tongue darts out.
My stomach twists. Fury claws up my chest before I can stop it. Fury and something worse. Fear. Disgust. Craving.
He broke me.
I wanted it.
I can’t stay here.
I push upright, gasping as my muscles protest. Every movement hurts in ways that make me remember his hands, his teeth, his voice in my ear. The euphoria as I found release.
That’s never happened to me before. Ronan Vale gave me my first fucking orgasm and I despise him for it.
My jeans are gone, replaced by soft, too‑big sweats that smell like him. I grip the bed’s edge, fingers white, forcing myself to stand.
My shirt’s ruined, so I pull on my jacket over my bare chest.
The door creaks when I push it open.
Morning light slices through the trees, glinting off snow. The camp hums with quiet industry.
Enforcers hauling crates, scouts sharpening blades on the steps of the mess hall. A pair of younger wolves spar near the training yard, their laughter bright and sharp as steel.
The world didn’t stop just because I shattered in the dark.
I step out, legs trembling. My wolf stirs uneasily, ears pricked for danger. I ignore it. If I were to pay too much attention to it, I’d be belly-up and throat exposed, in front of Ronan’s door right now.
My boots crunch in the snow, every step pulling at sore muscles. I keep my head down as I cross the clearing, but I can still feel it.
Eyes.
They follow me as I walk stiffly past them. Wolves pause mid‑stride, gaze dragging over my marked neck, lingering on the bruises, on the way I move like I’ve been used hard. Respect flickers there. Hunger too. A female with braids and sharp teeth licks her lips when our eyes meet. A young enforcer smirks, scent sharpening in the cold. Whispers ripple in my wake.
My face burns. I pull the jacket tighter around me, hating the heat that curls low despite myself. The mark throbs, a dark thrum in my veins.
He broke me. I wanted it. I can’t stay here.
I keep walking, limping slightly. The camp stretches before me. Cabins and sheds and the tall black lodge at the center, looming like a king’s hall. I glance up and freeze.
Ronan stands on the upper balcony, leaning against the railing. His dark hair is mussed from wind or restless hands. The light catches his golden eyes, making them blaze like banked fire. He’s watching me unblinkingly.
My chest tightens. I can’t read him. He’s carved from shadow and ice up there, expression unreadable, but his gaze pins me in place as surely as his hands did last night. The bond hums low in my chest, pulling taut. My wolf flattens its ears, whining softly, begging to be allowed to go to him.
I look away first. Shame and fury churn in my gut. I hate him. I hate that I’ll probably need him again. I hate that I’m chained to him. I hate that once again I have no say in what happens to me.
All I’ve ever wanted is freedom. The opportunity to make my own decisions. Decide my own fate. Not to be pinned down by being born an omega.
A passing wolf mutters, “Alpha’s whore,” not caring if I hear or not.
The words slice deep. I clench my jaw, fists tightening until my nails bite my palms. My pace quickens, pain flaring through my thighs. The smell of Ronan on me seems to thicken in the cold.
He broke me. I wanted it. I can’t stay here.
The thought repeats like a mantra in my head, but my body remembers his touch, the way he whispered to me, the way I came apart under him. Shame burns hot enough to make me shake. I slam my fist into the wall of the shed I’m passing and splinters cut into my knuckles.
“Eli. Don’t damage my property.”
My head snaps up. The voice is soft, dangerous. I turn slowly, dread pooling in my stomach.
Ronan is still on the balcony, but now he’s leaning forward, hands gripping the railing, watching me with those dark‑gold eyes like he can see every thought in my head. His mouth curves, slow and wolfish. A promise and a threat.
The bond thrums, sharp as teeth on my skin. My breath stutters.
I force myself to turn away, to keep walking, but I feel him watching me with every step.
I have no choice. I have to get away.