Chapter 36 Two mates
Elara's hands tightened around his neck at his confession but didn't say anything else. And suddenly, she gasped. “Oh and in the dream,” she started, her voice trembling, “my wolf defended me.”
Ronan stopped walking.
Slowly, carefully, he looked down at her. “Your wolf?"
Fenrir’s attention snapped to full focus. "She has her wolf?"
Elara nodded faintly. “Her name is Lyra.”
Fenrir all but vibrated with excitement. "I cannot wait to meet her."
Ronan mentally groaned. "Not now."
He refocused on Elara. “When did you find out?”
“A few days ago,” she said. “She just… appeared.”
"Her shift would happen soon." Ronan hummed thoughtfully. “And what else do you remember from the dream?”
Elara swallowed. “It felt like Lyra was being pushed down. Suppressed.”
Ronan’s teeth ground together.
They reached the palace entrance, where Matthew and Arwen stood in quiet conversation. The Queen turned as they approached, her gaze sharp and assessing.
“That explains it,” Ronan said quietly. “A vampire’s hunger strengthens under the red moon conditions. Even dormant, it pulls. Which is why if the red moon ever rises, you must stay inside. No contact with the light. None.”
His voice was tight now. Too tight.
Elara felt the fear bleeding through him, raw and unguarded. For a brief, dangerous moment, she wanted to reach up and cradle his face, to tell him she would be fine.
She stopped herself. Instead, she nodded. “Okay.”
Matthew cleared his throat as they drew close. “The date of the Hunt has been announced,” he said. “Guests will begin arriving in a couple of days.”
Ronan nodded absently. “Understood.”
Elara barely registered the words. Her mind was still reeling, tangled in red moons and blood and wolves and things that wanted her. She did not even notice Arwen until the Queen stepped closer.
“Elara,” Arwen said gently. “Are you all right?”
"Ah?" Elara blinked. “Yes... I... I am sorry. I did not mean to ignore you.”
She tried to slide out of Ronan’s arms. He tightened his hold slightly.
Arwen chuckled. “It is fine, dear. I should have checked on you sooner. The incident at the square required my attention.”
Elara folded her hands awkwardly against her lap. “I understand.”
Arwen’s gaze lingered on them for a moment longer than necessary, her sharp eyes flicking from Ronan’s arms wrapped securely around Elara to the way his thumb brushed small, absent circles against her side.
“Well,” she said lightly, lips curling, “I suppose I should leave the love birds to themselves.”
Elara’s face heated instantly. She shifted slightly, hands gripping the fabric of Ronan’s tunic, unsure whether to laugh or disappear entirely.
Ronan stiffened. “Mother,” he warned, though there was no real bite to it.
Arwen laughed, the sound soft and knowing. “Oh, don’t give me that tone. You’ve been in an unusually good mood all evening.” She tilted her head, studying him with open amusement. “Smiling at guards, carrying her around like she weighs nothing. I half expected you to start humming.”
Matthew let out a low chuckle beside her.
Ronan shot him a glare. “You too.”
Matthew raised his hands in surrender, still grinning. “Just saying, Your Majesty. It’s noticeable.”
Elara swallowed, her heart beating too fast. She did not know what unsettled her more, the teasing or the strange warmth blooming in her chest at the idea that Ronan had been happy. Because of her.
Arwen stepped closer, lowering her voice. “I’m glad she’s safe,” she said, then added with a wink, “And I’m glad you finally look like yourself again.”
Before Ronan could respond, she turned on her heel, her attendants falling into step behind her. “Good night, you two.”
Elara watched her go, cheeks burning.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
“I can walk now,” Elara whispered at last. “You can put me down.”
Ronan glanced at her, brow lifting slightly. “I don’t have a problem carrying you.
She blinked, startled, then let out a small breath. “All day?”
“If needed,” he replied without hesitation.
Her fingers twitched against his chest. “I wanted to ask something.”
“Go ahead.”
As he resumed walking toward the inner chambers, guards and maids bowed as they passed, their eyes lingering just a little too long. Elara’s voice dropped. “Why does everyone think we’re mates?”
Ronan slowed. “Do you mind that they do?”
She hesitated. “I just don’t understand it. Even Queen Arwen called us love birds.”
Fenrir hooted in his mind, far too pleased. "Tell her. Stop being a coward and tell her."
Ronan opened his mouth, ready to answer, when Elara spoke again, her voice trembling.
“I didn’t even know it was possible,” she said quietly, “for someone like me to have two mates.”
The world seemed to tilt.
Ronan stopped so abruptly that Elara sucked in a breath. His grip tightened, not painfully yet, but enough that she felt it.
“Two,” he repeated, his voice dangerously calm. "mates?"
Elara shrank slightly against him. “Draven said I was his mate.”
Something inside Ronan snapped.
Rage surged through him, hot and violent, drowning out reason. Fenrir snarled, the sound echoing through his mind. I will tear him apart.
The air around them thickened, pressure crashing outward. Stone groaned. Cracks spiderwebbed along the palace walls. Guards nearby staggered, some dropping to one knee.
Ronan did not notice.
His hold on Elara tightened, too much, too fast.
She gasped. “Ronan, you’re hurting me.”
He did not hear her.
Her breath hitched, pain blooming in her ribs. “Please.”
Still nothing.
Tears spilled down her cheeks as panic clawed its way up her throat. “Ronan,” she sobbed.
The sound cut through the haze like a blade.
Ronan froze.
Reality slammed back into him all at once. The fear in her eyes. Her trembling body. The way she was trying to pull away.
Guilt crushed him.
He released her instantly, his hands dropping as if burned. Elara stumbled, her feet hitting the ground hard. She took a step back, then another, her arms wrapping around herself.
“I’m sorry,” Ronan said hoarsely. “I didn’t mean to. I would never mean to.”
He reached for her without thinking and she flinched.
The movement hit him harder than any blow.
“May I be excused?” she asked, her voice unsteady.
Lyra finally lifted her head inside Elara’s mind, hurt and confused. "I thought he was different. Why did he react that way?"
Elara swallowed.
Ronan’s chest tightened. “Elara.”
She shook her head, tears blurring her vision. “Please.”
He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to step back. “Very well.”
He mindlinked Faye and Liora, his voice tight and controlled. Come get her.
They arrived quickly, their smiles fading the moment they saw Elara shaking. Neither of them dared to speak. They bowed to Ronan, then turned gently to Elara.
“My Lady,” Faye said softly.
Elara nodded and allowed them to guide her away.
Ronan watched her retreating figure until she disappeared down the corridor.
Only then did he drag a hand through his hair, his breath uneven.
"What have I done?"