Chapter 22
ELARA’S POV
As I approached my door, I spotted Cael in the distance, striding down the hallway. He seemed to be making his way toward Ronan’s office.
“Cael!” I shouted, waving wildly. He turned, a rare smile breaking across his typically serious face as he waved in return.
“Catch you later, Elara! Heading to see the Alpha,” he called back.
“Alright. Bye!”
I pushed open my door and stepped in. The air inside was fresh and inviting. A relieved breath slipped out. I just hoped the Moon White Pack was holding up okay—my leaving hadn’t left them exposed, had it?
A gentle knock pulled me around. Maybe Martha? She was fast.
“Martha?” I asked, my forehead creasing a bit.
“It’s me,” came a quiet voice. “Clara, your maid.”
Maid—oh, right! Clara! The young maid Alpha Kane had gifted me as a parting surprise.
“Come on in,” I said. The door opened with a creak, and she entered, her hands fidgeting in front of her. She looked youthful, maybe my age or a bit less. She struck me as genuinely kind, but I wasn’t accustomed to having someone wait on me.
“How can I help, Clara?” I asked, aiming to sound friendly.
“Actually, that’s my line,” she replied. “I’m here to help with whatever you need.”
I sighed, running fingers through my hair, nibbling my lip anxiously. “Um, Clara?” I started, and she looked up, her soft green eyes meeting mine. “You know, I’m not really used to…” I motioned vaguely at the idea of personal service. “For now, maybe hang out with the other maids,” I suggested with a smile. “Just settle in. I’ll call if I need anything.”
I meant to make her comfortable, but the words felt awkward tumbling out.
“Okay,” she said softly. “Thank you.” She turned and left.
I sighed again, a twinge of regret hitting me. I might’ve come off as unappreciative. I really needed to polish my gentle letdowns.
A whole month had passed since I got back to the Mountain Dew Pack, and honestly, things had shifted… well, except for Marcelline’s loathing. Wait, scratch that—it had evolved, sharpening into a poisonous glare every time our paths crossed. But I couldn’t be bothered.
Clara, my new maid, had blended in with the others and the pack as a whole. At first, Ronan balked at accepting a “gift” maid from Alpha Kane, but I talked him into letting her stay. She was such a gentle, timid girl—turns out she was only seventeen. The poor thing must’ve endured a lot. Life felt ideal… or suspiciously so, if I was being honest.
My face warmed the instant Ronan’s striking amber eyes caught mine. He stood at his desk, poring over papers, but somehow his gaze landed right on me while I was ogling him! I looked away, mortified and terrified he’d caught on to my lingering stare.
Which, truthfully, I had been doing.
Bit by bit, almost without noticing, I was falling for Ronan. Since my return, he’d softened—showing more care, like he’d finally acknowledged our bond. His usual hard shell was fracturing, letting through bits of kindness that stirred butterflies in my gut. Marcelline’s irritation built daily, but ignoring it was easy. Ronan barely acknowledged her, so why should I?
“Staring, Elara?” Ronan’s teasing voice yanked me from my thoughts. The guy could sense my embarrassment from a mile away. I hadn’t even realized I’d drifted back to gazing.
Damn it.
“No,” I said, shaking my head, cheeks still flaming. I grabbed a random book off his shelf to look occupied. “Why would I?”
Because his sharp jaw could slice steel, his looks were deadly—my inner voice chimed, and I had to agree.
I was doomed.
Footsteps drew near. Panic spiked. Oh gods—he was closing in. I tried to sidestep, but my foot caught, and I tumbled flat on my butt.
“Oof,” I winced, hitting the floor hard. So much for any leftover poise.
“Why the dodge, Elara?” he asked, his tone hiding amusement poorly. I peeked up to see him towering over me, one brow raised in a clear “I caught you.”
With a sigh, he extended his big hand to help me up.
Perfect—I’d been avoiding touches, and now I had to grab his.
I cleared my throat and took it. It was warm, strong, yet soft. I wanted to hold on forever.
“I wasn’t dodging,” I muttered, dusting myself off and avoiding his eyes. “Just… you know.” I shrugged, praying he’d switch topics.
“Ah,” he laughed lightly. “Got it.”
“Got what?” My eyes widened. Had my thoughts leaked out somehow?
“Nothing,” he said, shaking his head. I watched him saunter back to his desk, lounging in his chair casually. It annoyed me how effortlessly hot that pose looked on him.
Snap out of it, Elara! I scolded myself mentally, shoving down the silly urges.
“Why do I get the sense you’re battling yourself?” he said softly. “You good?”
“Ridiculous,” I blurted before thinking. “Sorry, I mean… no.”
“Anyway,” he shrugged, shifting gears as he sat up straighter. “Ready to begin?”
“Yeah.”
I sat across from him. The hunting games were approaching—a key pack ritual—and we had to ensure supplies. My role was prepping enough remedies for any serious or infected wounds. Last year, they’d had fifteen injuries, and it had been rough.
I proposed using my blood like usual for quick results, but Ronan shut it down. He seemed almost hurt by the idea. Instead, he wanted just a drop mixed with herbs, making a milder but longer-lasting option. Like what I’d done in Moon White, but with less blood.
As the healer tagging along, he wanted to hash out details with me directly.
Or maybe he just likes being near you? my wolf hinted.
“Shut up!” I snapped aloud. Ronan jumped, staring like I’d sprouted horns.
Crap, crap, crap—I smacked my forehead. Way to humiliate myself today.
“You okay?” he asked, a stifled chuckle slipping out. His shoulders trembled with held-back laughter.
“My wolf’s spouting nonsense,” I grumbled. “Nothing big.” I waved it off, hoping to redirect. “Just dumb stuff.”
But he perked up, intrigued. He crossed his arms, leaning back. “Oh? Like what?”
“Nothing,” I pressed, voice strained.
“I’m not buying it.”
“Oh yeah?” I raised a brow. “Why not?”
He cocked his head, eyes steady. “Just a hunch.”
I huffed, rolling my eyes. “Quit pretending you can read my wolf or my mind. That’s nonsense.”
This was dumb—why was I getting worked up?
His expression turned grave, the fun fading into something inscrutable. My chest tightened—had I gone too far?
“What if I do?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
“Do what?” I breathed, air stuck in my lungs.
He leaned forward, our faces so close his scent enveloped me, his gaze searching mine. “What if… I want to get to know you both, Elara.”