Riven stood frozen in the middle of his room, arms still crossed, his confident smirk flickering into something unreadable. The tension in the air was thick, crackling like an impending storm.
He hadn’t moved an inch since Ronan’s dramatic entrance.
Julius was still standing near the bed, his arms at his sides, hands clenched into tight fists. The frustration in his body language was obvious—his pride had taken a serious hit, and now, on top of that, Alpha Ronan was here, acting as if
he
had the right to barge in and claim Riven.
Meanwhile, Ronan’s sharp icy blue eyes were locked onto Julius like he wanted to murder him for touching Riven.
And Riven?
Riven was just... Processing.
What the
hell
just happened?
His heart was still hammering from the power struggle, his mind still buzzing with the thrill of overpowering Julius. He had
won
. He had never felt so strong before, never had so much control over a situation that once would have left him powerless.
But then
Ronan
had appeared.
His interruption had shattered the moment like a rock through glass.
And
thank the gods for that
.
Riven exhaled, finally lowering his arms and rubbing his wrists absentmindedly. He wasn’t afraid of Julius—he
knew
that. He was never afraid of him. And yet, he was glad Ronan barged in.
"This is a private matter," Julius finally said, his voice even, careful.
Ronan didn’t blink. "It stopped being private the moment you overstepped."
Julius inhaled sharply through his nose, holding himself back. He could not challenge the Alpha—not yet, not here—but his frustration was undeniable. He cast a glance at Riven, as if expecting him to say something, to step in.
But Riven only raised an eyebrow. Why would he help?! What a stupid thing to expect of him.
Ronan took a step forward, his presence suffocating. "You will leave this room now."
Julius did not move.
Ronan tilted his head slightly, his voice dropping to something quieter, something far more dangerous. "Or do you need me to remove you?"
Julius’ whole body tensed.
The threat was not an empty one.
The air in the room grew heavier, the unspoken rules of dominance pressing down on Julius like an unseen weight. He
hated
this. He hated the feeling of being powerless, of having no say, of being dismissed so easily.
But challenging Ronan here would be suicide.
His pride burned, but he clenched his jaw and stepped back. Without another word, he turned sharply on his heel and walked toward the door.
Just before leaving, he shot Riven a look.
A warning? A promise? Riven wasn’t sure.
And then he was gone.
The door shut behind him, leaving Riven alone with Ronan.
Riven let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto his bed. "That was
so
intense."
"You-" Ronan said in a low voice that made Riven freeze. His tail quickly followed through expressing his emotions clearly. "I asked you to pack. We. Are. Leaving."
"You—"
The weight of Ronan’s voice made Riven freeze. A shiver ran down his spine, and his black wolf tail betrayed him, flicking sharply in nervousness.
Ronan’s golden eyes bore into him, radiating something dark, something untamed.
"I asked you to pack," Ronan said, voice slow, controlled, and absolutely terrifying. "We. Are. Leaving."
Riven sat up instantly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was
so
not prepared for this conversation. It wasn’t like he
wanted
to stay here—Julius was getting way too comfortable treating him like some possession—but what would happen when Ronan and the elders found out the truth? That he couldn’t even shift?
He could barely manage Julius because, somehow, someway, he had been stronger than him for those few minutes. But Ronan? Ronan was
different
. Ronan was an
Alpha
.
Riven shifted uncomfortably under Ronan’s piercing gaze, feeling like a prey animal trapped beneath a predator’s shadow.
"Um... you see..." He started hesitantly, choosing his words carefully. "I don’t want to..."
Ronan’s expression darkened instantly.
Riven swallowed, his voice getting softer, more uncertain under the weight of that glare. "Go with you..."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Ronan’s eyes flashed dangerously, his jaw tightening as his hands curled into fists at his sides.
Riven had no idea what he just said
wrong
, but suddenly, it felt like a very,
very
bad idea.
A growl rumbled deep in Ronan’s chest, low and menacing, the kind that sent instinctual warnings through Riven’s body.
He had
misunderstood
.
Ronan thought this was a pathetic excuse—an attempt to stay behind and finish what he had
interrupted
.
The idea made his blood boil.
Riven... Wanted to stay? Stay here?
With Julius?
How
dare
he?
Ronan
hated
Riven. At least, he told himself that.
Then
why
did his mind, his heart, and his body keep
craving
him?
Why did the thought of Riven choosing
someone else
make his vision blur with rage?
Why had he run here like a madman the second he sensed danger?
He hadn’t thought. He hadn’t hesitated.
His body had just
moved
, racing through the estate, running up the stairs, throwing open the door like his life depended on it—only to find
Julius
pressing Riven against the wall.
His wolf had
snapped
.
And now, Riven had the audacity to say he
wanted
to stay?
Ronan exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. "You will
not
stay here."
Riven’s ears twitched, and he immediately sat up straighter. "I mean, it’s not
that
I want to stay, it’s just—"
"Enough. You want to stay because of him? You want to finish what you started, right?"
As he uttered those words, he kept walking closer and closer to Riven. His fingers reached for his tie which seemed so tight it was suffocating, he needed to let his desires free.
Riven immediately knew that he should not have said that... Did he regret it? Not quite. He was intrigued. Where was this going? Was he going to... Were they going to...
He was already against the wall, he had no way to escape. His eyes remained on Ronan who looked so angry he could just become a wolf at any point in time. And he was not interested in doing it with a wolf... He was not that crazy. He liked men! Hot men!
"So... Do I have to rip it off or will you do it yourself?"