Vivian was visibly fascinated by the bustling life of Clawveld. She never imagined she would be granted the liberty of roaming the market streets of a city.
Neither did Avery. The two omega females were engrossed in the entertaining activities and festivities unravelling at every market stall or city square.
The unusual sight was enough to draw their attention, leaving them oblivious to the true nature behind city life.
Ronan, on the other hand was unsettled. Vivian might have been completely ignorant of the fact that her shifter scent was now tainted, reeking of unholy wickan magic.
And in Clawveld, Wickans weren’t particularly welcomed or received hospitably.
The Lycan Alpha ensured Vivian was practically glued to his side, his arm never leaving her waist for even a second. While Avery walked a few steps ahead of them where they could keep a watchful eye on her.
Moonborn wolves were easily distinguishable by the black crescent moon symbol tattooed on their forehead and in this particular region of ShadowFall, they weren’t received warmly either.
Clawveld may have despised Wickans and Moonborn wolves, but more than their abhorrence, their delicious fear for Cursed Lycans was more apparent.
Heads bowed in respect and greeting whenever Ronan breezed by, offering a courtesy nod in return to those who recognised him.
Vivian shyly tucked the loose strands of her hair behind her ear, deeply aware of Ronan’s proximity to her and the way their bodies were pressed side by side.
It reminded her of the sweet passions of the previous night. Ronan’s large, protective hands roaming her body was still fresh at the front of her mind and even the savoury aromas of food couldn’t distract her from those thoughts.
From the corner of his eye, the Lycan Alpha glanced down at her. There was something primal and aching in his own darkening gaze, soaking in the appearance of her delicate smile.
It made his jaw twitch.
He shook his head a moment later when they arrived at the city’s tavern, ’AleFang’. He pushed open the doors, allowing Vivian and Avery to walk inside before him.
The place reeked with the bitter scent of ale and aged whiskey. Vivian was accustomed to such alcoholic scents, considering her ex-mate Dane often hosted night gatherings for his shifter acquaintances and the house would carry the stench of those drinks till the morning until the servant staff would arrive to open the windows.
She detested such nights for that would mean Dane would take her roughly and lose his temper.
Vivian didn’t like the scent. She grimaced, her body starting to tremble slightly as the traumatic events rushed to her mind.
Avery noticed the colour drain from her aunt’s face and quickly grabbed Vivian’s hand to calm her down.
"Hey, Vivi! It’s our first time in a tavern, isn’t it?" Avery blurted out, earning a suspicious stare from Ronan. "It’s exciting, isn’t it?"
Vivian forced a smile and nodded. She didn’t want to reveal her unsightly past with Dane to Ronan. She didn’t want him to discover what a useless whore she was that her father made her lay with several different Alphas after being returned by Dane.
She didn’t want Ronan to look upon her with scorn and disgust.
She’s uncomfortable, Ronan.
The Lycan alerted him and for once the man couldn’t agree more.
Vivian was practically shaking on the spot, unable to take a step forward.
The tavern was a bad idea.
Ronan mentally scolded himself.
He immediately swept Vivian up into his arms bridal style, eliciting a surprised gasp from the she-wolf. The Lycan Alpha made a gesture with his head to Avery, signalling for the child to open the door and walk out first.
"Ronan, please put me down... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to react like this." Vivian all but sobbed, betraying the tough exterior she tried to put up.
"Don’t. You. Dare. Apologise," Ronan enunciated each word through gritted teeth, swiftly carrying her to a nearby bench outside to sit down. "For something that isn’t your fault," he completed.
Avery trotted up behind them, sitting beside her aunt with a worried expression.
"You don’t have to tell me why you reacted that way if you don’t want to, but if something bothers you or makes you uncomfortable, you need to tell me," Ronan affirmed, crouching in front of her. "Do you understand, Vivian?" His tone was gentle now.
The she-wolf slowly nodded, taking a deep breath to relieve herself of the alcoholic scents.
"Good girl," Ronan complimented, subconsciously flashing a smile at her.
Avery watched the exchange between Ronan and her aunt carefully.
Weren’t cursed Lycans supposed to be violent and rude?
Why was Ronan any different from them?
"Change of plans. We’ll go directly to an inn first," Ronan spoke again. "I’ll set us up in a room and then we can visit the garment stalls."
"But Ronan I...don’t exactly have any money on me," Vivian uttered anxiously, averting her gaze.
Ronan took both her hands into his own, squeezing gently as he looked up at her from where he crouched.
"Listen to me, that’s not important," the Lycan Alpha insisted. "I already said this before; I will provide for you and you don’t owe me anything."
There was the amber glow in his eyes again.
It wasn’t Ronan’s promise. It was his Lycan’s.
"Come now, let’s get going."
Ronan assisted her in the rise to her feet, tucking her close to his side once again while Avery accompanied them.
It would do well for you to be nicer to her, Ronan.
The Lycan emerged again.
Perhaps you’ve forgotten but your fated mate is the only one who can prevent your curse from spiralling out of control.
Ronan scowled but didn’t respond.
Unless you plan on losing yourself to permanent, full-fledged transformation like your ancestors, who were slaughtered by Moonborn for running wild and untamed.
Now that struck a crucial nerve and Ronan didn’t like the spite in his Lycan’s tone.
If you want to stop yourself from becoming me forever, then Vivian is your only chance at that.