Chapter 9 CHAPTER 9 THE WALK HOME

Chapter 9 CHAPTER 9 THE WALK HOME
Ophelia's POV
Ryan was walking way too fast.
Like, seriously. His legs were longer than mine, sure, but this was ridiculous. Every few seconds I had to do this awkward half-jog thing just to keep up.
"Hey!" I called out. "Can you maybe slow down a little?"
He didn't respond. Just kept walking at that same stupid pace.
I jogged to catch up. "Ryan, come on!"
Still nothing.
Fine. Whatever.
I slowed down, letting the distance grow between us. Then I had to jog again to catch up.
This happened like five times.
"Okay, he's totally doing this on purpose," I muttered.
"He's not that petty," Hex said in my head.
"Are you kidding me right now? Whose side are you on anyway?"
"I'm just saying, he's probably not—"
"He is absolutely messing with me." I had to jog again. "Look at this! I'm practically running and he's just casually strolling along like we've got all day!"
The sun was starting to set, painting the sky in these gorgeous oranges and pinks. The path back to Ironcliff wound through some pretty woods, and normally I'd be enjoying the scenery.
But nope. I was too busy trying not to lose sight of Ryan's stupid black hair up ahead.
"Hey!" I tried again. "Seriously, my legs are gonna fall off!"
He slowed down.
Finally.
I caught up to him, breathing a little hard. "Thank you. Geez."
He didn't look at me. Just kept walking—at a normal pace this time, thank god.
We walked in silence for maybe thirty seconds.
Then I realized something.
His lips were twitching.
Just the tiniest bit. Like he was trying really hard not to smile.
"Oh my god," I said. "You were totally doing that on purpose!"
His expression didn't change, but I saw it. That little almost-smile.
"You absolute jerk!" I smacked his arm.
He raised an eyebrow, glancing at me sideways. There was something in his eyes—something lighter than before. Almost playful.
Holy crap.
The future tyrant was being playful.
This was huge.
"Whatever," I huffed, crossing my arms. "I'm onto you now. Can't fool me twice."
The corner of his mouth twitched again.
I bit back a grin. Okay, maybe getting pranked by a traumatized fifteen-year-old wasn't the worst thing in the world.
Actually, it was kind of a good sign. Like, normal teenage behavior instead of cold murder robot behavior.
Progress!
We walked for another minute in silence. The woods were getting darker as the sun sank lower. I should probably say something. Break the ice properly.
"So," I started. "I realized I never actually got your name. At the marketplace, I mean. Before everything went crazy."
He glanced at me. "Ryan."
"Ryan," I repeated. "Cool. I'm Ophelia, but you probably already knew that since Jovie was yelling it like a million times."
He nodded once.
"You can call me Lia if you want," I added. "Or Phee. Or just Ophelia. Whatever works."
Another nod.
Okay, this was like pulling teeth. Time to switch tactics.
"So I should probably tell you about me," I said, launching into full babble mode. "You know, since we're gonna be pack mates and all. I'm totally obsessed with food. Like, my life goal? Try every single dish in Aravorn. Is that weird? Whatever, don't care."
Ryan was quiet, but I caught him glancing at me again.
"Oh, and I love animals! Especially the fluffy ones. They're so cute I could die." I grinned. "Not literally though. Already did that once, don't recommend it."
"Wait, what?" Hex said.
"Nothing," I thought back quickly. "Ignore that."
"Did you just almost tell him you died?"
"I said ignore it!"
Ryan was still watching me with those green eyes. Not saying anything, but at least he was listening.
"Rainy days are the worst," I continued. "They just kill my mood, you know? And thunderstorms? Forget it. I literally can't sleep. I just lie there freaking out the whole time."
I kicked a small rock on the path. "You know what's disgusting? Celery. Ugh, I hate that stuff so much."
For the first time since we started walking, I saw actual emotion flicker across Ryan's face. "My mom used to force me to eat it," I said, the memory bubbling up—fake memory, technically, but it felt real enough. "Like, she'd stand there with her arms crossed going 'you're not leaving this table until you finish that celery.' It was traumatic."
"I hate celery too."
I stopped walking.
Ryan kept going for a few steps, then stopped and looked back at me.
"Oh my god, really?" My whole face lit up. "See, I knew we'd get along!"
Something shifted in his expression. Like he immediately regretted speaking.
His jaw tightened and he turned away, starting to walk again.
But I'd seen it. That tiny moment of connection.
"So what else do you hate?" I asked, jogging to catch up. "Come on, we're bonding now. Bonding over mutual hatred of vegetables. It's a thing."
Silence.
"Ryan?"
More silence.
"Okay, fine, be mysterious." I grinned anyway. "But I'm totally counting this as progress. You actually talked to me. Like, voluntarily. That's huge."
He didn't respond, but his shoulders relaxed just a fraction.
We walked for another few minutes. I kept up a running commentary about random stuff—the weather, the trees, this one time Jovie fell in a river—and Ryan stayed quiet.
But he didn't tell me to shut up.
So that was something.
Finally, I ran out of steam. My throat was getting dry from all the talking.
"If you're tired, shut up," Ryan said.
I blinked at him. "Excuse me?"
"You talk too much."
"Wow. Rude." But I was kind of smiling. "Fine. I'll be quiet."
We walked in silence for maybe two whole minutes.
Then I couldn't help it. "You know, for someone who just told me to shut up, you sure don't seem to mind that I'm still here."
He shot me a look that was probably supposed to be intimidating.
It wasn't.
"What? I'm just saying. You could walk faster again. Leave me in the dust. But you're not."
"You'd just get lost."
"Aw, you care about my safety. That's so sweet."
"I don't."
"You totally do."
His jaw clenched, but I swore I saw that almost-smile again.
I studied him as we walked. He was skinny—like, seriously skinny. All sharp angles and not enough meat on his bones. His clothes were practically falling off him.
"You need to eat more," I said without thinking.
He frowned. "What?"
"You're like a twig. When's the last time you had a proper meal?"
"I'm fine."
"That's what you keep saying, but evidence suggests otherwise." I poked his arm. "See? No muscle. Just bones."
He jerked away from my touch. "Stop that."
"I'm serious though. When you get to Ironcliff, I'm gonna make sure you eat properly. Three meals a day, minimum. Plus snacks."
"I don't need—"
"Yeah, yeah, you don't need anything. I've heard." I waved my hand dismissively. "Too bad. You're getting fed whether you like it or not."
"This 'twig' just took on five rogues by himself and killed four of them," Hex interjected. "But sure, he's super fragile."
"That's different!" I thought back. "He collapsed after! He clearly can't sustain that kind of power yet. So yeah, he needs better nutrition. Fight me on this."
"I'm not fighting you. You're impossible."
"Thank you."
Ryan was giving me a weird look. "Who are you talking to?"
Crap. Had I been making faces while arguing with Hex?
"Nobody," I said quickly. "Just thinking out loud. I do that sometimes."
He didn't look convinced but didn't push it.
The trees started to thin out, and I could see the walls of Ironcliff in the distance. The little castle that housed our pack was lit up against the darkening sky, warm light spilling from the windows.
"That's it," I said, pointing. "Ironcliff Pack. It's not huge or anything, but it's nice. You'll like it."
Ryan stared at the castle, his expression unreadable.
"Everyone's pretty chill," I added. "My dad's a good Alpha. Fair, you know? And Jovie's great once you get past the whole scary exterior thing."
He didn't respond.
"Hey." I touched his arm lightly. He flinched but didn't pull away this time. "It's gonna be okay. I promise."
He looked at me then. Really looked at me. Those green eyes searching my face like he was trying to figure out if I was lying.
The main gate of Ironcliff was already open when we arrived. Guards stood on either side, and they nodded respectfully as I approached.
"Miss Ophelia," one of them said. "Welcome back."
"Thanks!" I smiled at them, then gestured to Ryan. "This is Ryan. He's joining the pack. Can you let Jovie know we're here?"
The guards exchanged glances but nodded.
We walked through the gate into the main courtyard. It was busy—pack members moving around, finishing up evening chores. A few of them glanced our way, curious about the stranger with me.
"Ophelia!"
I turned to see Jovie sprinting across the courtyard, her face a mix of relief and fury.
Oh boy.
She skidded to a stop in front of me, and I saw tears in her eyes.
"Where the hell have you been?!" she shouted. "I've been looking everywhere! I thought something happened to you! I thought—"
"Jovie, I'm so sorry," I said quickly. "I got turned around in the streets and—"
"You got LOST?!" Her voice went up an octave. "Do you have any idea how worried I was?"
"I know, I know, I'm really sorry—"
Then she noticed Ryan standing behind me.
Her eyes went huge.
"You," she breathed, and suddenly her whole demeanor changed. She stepped in front of me protectively, glaring at Ryan. "What the hell are you doing here?!"
Ryan's expression didn't change. He just stared at her blankly.
"Jovie, wait—"
"Did he hurt you?" Jovie demanded, grabbing my shoulders and looking me over. "Did he threaten you? Is that why you're bringing him here?"
"What? No! Jovie, calm down—"
"I knew he was trouble! I told you, but you didn't listen, and now—"
"Jovie!" I grabbed her face between my hands, forcing her to look at me. "I'm fine. Ryan didn't hurt me. Actually, he protected me."
She blinked. "He... what?"