Chapter 111
Ronan’s POV
The air in the elder’s sitting room was heavy. Too heavy. It clung to my lungs like damp cloth, choking without pressure.
The elder sat hunched, his hand still trembling slightly against his knee. His wife hovered near the door, fussing with a tray she didn’t really want to carry. Damon was watching—eyes sharp, like he was waiting for the elder to slip and reveal something else.
My jaw locked. I couldn’t shake it. That voice. Heri’s voice. The echo of it still pulsed in my skull, haunting, taunting. And that damn house.
“Alpha Ronan,” the elder rasped, his voice cracked but steadying. “What I’ve said… that is all you can take from me.”
“Take?” I echoed, my tone sharper than I intended. “Or all you’re willing to give?”
His eyes flicked up. For a second—just a second—there was defiance there. A flash of something old and unbending.
Then it faded. He exhaled, long and ragged. “Sometimes… the burden of knowing is heavier than ignorance.”
My hands curled into fists. “Then let me carry it. If the house has ties to her, to the mark, to the king—you will tell me what you know.”
The elder just… smiled. But it wasn’t soft. It wasn’t kind. It was weary, and knowing, and it scraped like sandpaper against my nerves.
“You think your will alone can undo a spell woven before your birth?” he asked softly. “You think you can wrest answers out of a mind barred by something older than even I?”
“Then I’ll break it.” My voice was low, iron. “No barrier is permanent.”
He chuckled faintly, then coughed, the sound cracking through the room. “Spoken like an Alpha.” His eyes lingered on me, sharp again. “But sometimes, Alpha… a wall exists to protect. Not to bind.”
“Protect who?” I demanded. “The king? The elders? Or her?”
At that, his gaze shifted. A flicker. He knew something. He knew.
Before I could push again, Damon shifted his weight, stepping forward. “Alpha,” he murmured, low enough that it was almost for me alone, “this conversation is circling. He’s not breaking.”
I clenched my jaw, every muscle screaming at me to keep pressing. But Damon’s eyes were steady—grounding. Reminding me of what I already knew. We were close to crossing a line that couldn’t be uncrossed.
And right now… I couldn’t afford to make enemies. Not here. Not yet.
I exhaled through my nose, forcing my body to ease even though it felt like swallowing glass. “Fine. For now.”
The elder dipped his head slightly, like we’d just completed some silent bargain. “Wise.”
His wife, clearly relieved, rushed in then with fresh tea, as though pouring it might somehow patch the cracks in the air. Damon accepted his cup politely. I didn’t touch mine.
“Thank you for your time,” I said, rising to my feet. My voice was flat. Clipped.
The elder nodded, his expression unreadable. “Be cautious where you tread, Alpha Ronan. Curiosity has teeth.”
I didn’t answer. My patience was gone.
Damon followed me out, and the cool evening air hit like water on a burn. The sky had begun to streak with orange, the sun bleeding toward the horizon. Gravel crunched under our boots as we crossed back to the car.
Only once the doors shut did Damon speak. “He knows more.”
“Of course he does.” My grip tightened on the steering wheel, the leather creaking under my hands. “But whatever’s holding him back—it’s real. He wasn’t faking.”
Damon leaned back, watching me carefully. “So. The house is real. The mark is real. And the king’s involved.”
I ground my teeth. “And Heri.”
His brows furrowed, but he didn’t argue.
The drive back was silent except for the growl of the engine. My mind wouldn’t stop racing—spinning through half-formed questions and answers that didn’t exist. The mark. The house. The spell. Heri’s voice.
And always, always, the image of her—small, fragile, yet somehow at the center of a storm none of us could name.
I didn’t notice my hands had started trembling until Damon spoke again. “Alpha.”
I blinked, glanced down, and forced my grip to ease. “I’m fine.”
He didn’t push. But the look in his eyes said he didn’t believe me.
Lisa’s POV
Ughhhh. Ughhhhhh.
“Lisa, sit down,” Heri said gently for the tenth time.
“Nope! Can’t! Sitting equals waiting, waiting equals panic, panic equals—” I flailed both arms so wide she had to dodge her book again, “—boom, heart attack, funeral, me in a coffin!”
“Drama,” she said flatly, flipping a page she definitely wasn’t reading.
“Hey!” I gasped, clutching my chest. “I am a very serious person in a very serious crisis!”
“Mm-hm,” she hummed, like I’d just told her the sky was green.
I groaned, dropping to the rug on my knees. “This is torture, Heri. Torture! I can’t even snack because I’m too nervous, and you know if I can’t snack then it’s the end times.”
Her lips twitched, the tiniest smile trying to sneak out.
“Don’t you dare laugh at me!” I jabbed a finger at her. “Don’t—”
And then she laughed.
A real one. A little burst, soft and sudden, and it hit me right in the chest like a shot of sunlight.
“…Okay,” I mumbled, collapsing onto my back dramatically, “you’re forgiven.”
She shook her head, still smiling faintly, then set her book aside. “You really worry about him.”
I sat up halfway, hugging my knees. “…Of course I do.” My voice dropped without me meaning it to. “It’s Ronan. He just… he charges into danger like it’s his morning workout, and I’m supposed to just… what? Knit a sweater while I wait?”
Her gaze softened. “You care a lot.”
“…Duh,” I muttered, cheeks warming. “Don’t tell him though. He’ll get all smug about it.”
She giggled again, and I felt the knot in my chest loosen just a little.
Still, when the clock ticked past another hour, my nerves started shredding again. I pressed my palms together, whispering into the space between them.
“Please… please come back safe.”
Ronan’s POV
The villa gates came into view, and the tightness in my chest eased despite myself.
Home.
Safe.
At least, as safe as anything was right now.
Damon parked smoothly, his usual efficiency never wavering. We stepped out, boots crunching against the stone path. My eyes flicked up immediately, and—
There she was.
Lisa. Standing right at the door, arms folded, eyes blazing like she’d been rehearsing her scolding for hours. Heri peeked out behind her, small and steady, but Lisa—Lisa was a storm waiting to break.
Oh, hell.
Here it comes.