Ronan’s POV
Ronan opened the door to his office, unsurprised to find Ash already inside.
His beta never left without delivering a report in person.
Ash sat comfortably in a chair, legs crossed, a folded report resting on his knees, looking far too relaxed for someone who’d been waiting.
Ronan shut the door and sighed.
“Was this so urgent it couldn’t wait until morning?” He asked.
Ash looked up with a slow grin.
“Good evening to you too, Alpha.”
Ronan rolled his eyes and walked further inside, leaning against the edge of his desk instead of sitting behind it.
“So.
Is the world ending tonight, or are you just bored?”
Ash stood, brushed invisible dust from his jacket, and held out the report.
“Kind of important.” He said.
Ronan took it without opening it, studying Ash’s face instead.
“You look too amused for bad news.”
Ash’s lips curved into a grin.
“That’s because it isn’t.” He mumbled.
He frowned slightly.
That grin meant trouble.
Ash never smiled like that unless he was enjoying something far too much.
“You didn’t say it was good news either.” Ronan muttered.
“I enjoy suspense.”
“Of course you do,” Ronan said.
“You enjoy watching people squirm almost as much as you enjoy being annoying.”
“Also true.”
Ronan knew Ash well enough after all these years to recognize when he was circling something.
Hell, they grew up together.
“Then why are you really here?”
Ash raised a brow.
“I could ask you the same.
I didn’t realize you were…
occupied.”
The word landed wrong.
“Occupied?”
“With dinner,” Ash said easily.
“With company.”
Ronan stiffened, his wolf bristling.
“That’s none of your business.”
“Normally I’d agree,” Ash said.
“But it becomes my business when the Alpha of Blackthorn shares a table with a tribute.”
Ronan straightened, jaw tightening.
The word scraped at him in a way it never had before.
“She’s not a tribute.” He snapped.
“She’s not?”
His fingers curled around the edge of the table.
Say it clearly.
Do not soften it.
“Not to me.” he said.
“You’re aware that by every law of this land, she is.” Ash said.
He arched a brow.
“I’m also aware that laws get written by people who forget there are wolves standing on the other side of them,” Ronan said flatly.
Ash let out a quiet laugh.
“Since when did you get poetic about pack law?”
Ronan ignored that.
“She has a name.
Lyra.
I’d appreciate you using it.” He said in a tight voice.
Silence stretched a moment.
Ash leaned back, arms folding.
“This is new.” He muttered like he was just realizing something.
He met Ash’s gaze without flinching.
“What is?”
“You caring what I call a kitchen worker.” Ash muttered.
“Or anyone sent here in a box.”
Irritation sparked, fast and sharp, and Ronan knew exactly what Ash was doing and let himself fall into it anyway.
“Don’t remind me how she got here.
She saved my life.
She’s fixing what someone tried to destroy.
That earns respect.”
Ash studied him, then nodded slowly.
“Very well.
Lyra.” A note of curiosity crept into his voice.
“Better?”
Ronan released a breath he had not realized he was holding.
“Yes.”
“Still changes nothing,” Ash added, watching him closely.
He groaned, already resisting the urge to pull his hair.
“Does it not?” he grumbled.
Ash’s smile widened just a little, like he knew Ronan was lying.
“No.” he muttered.
Or maybe like he knew Ronan did not know the truth himself.
“That is interesting,” he said lightly.
“Be careful, Ash.” Ronan warned.
Ash lifted both hands.
“Easy.
I’m only saying what everyone’s already thinking.” He said.
“Wait… what everyone is already thinking?
What do you mean,” Ronan said.
Ash’s eyes flicked briefly to the door, then back to him.
“You know how this place works.
People talk.”
Ronan said nothing, but his mind drifted anyway, to the careful way she’d eaten across from him, more afraid of breaking some unspoken rule than of her own hunger.
“You realize this’ll start questions,” Ash said.
Ronan had known that the moment she’d sat down.
Blackthorn’s walls had ears.
Guards noticed patterns.
Even silence meant something here.
He had hoped, foolishly, that it would end with the guards outside his chambers.
That it would stay contained.
Private.
But Ash was here.
Which meant it had already begun.
Damn it.
Ronan lifted his gaze.
“Let them ask.” he said.
“About her,” Ash added quietly.
That was the part that actually worried him.
Whispers had followed him his whole life.
What mattered was where they might turn next.
If word got out that she’d shared a meal with him, she’d stand out, not as a cook, not as an omega, but as someone close to power.
And closeness to power made people bold.
Some would want to hurt her just to see if it moved him.
Others would want to use her, to gain favor, to bargain, to test his limits.
He had seen it before.
Wolves could be vicious when ambition took hold.
Something dark flickered in his eyes.
“Then they’ll learn to mind their own business,” Ronan growled.
“You sound protective for someone who claims this means nothing,” Ash said.
“Don’t mistake authority for protection.”
“I’ve known you too long for that,” Ash said.
“Still.
I never thought I’d see the day you shared a meal with a tribute.
Sorry, Lyra.”
“There was nothing to expect,” Ronan said, opening the report and pretending to read it.
“You don’t eat with anyone.
You barely eat with your own council.”
He flipped a page.
“She needed food,” Ronan muttered.
Ash scoffed.
“So do a lot of people.” He retorted.
“She hadn’t eaten,” Ronan said.
Ash blinked.
“You checked?”
He hesitated.
Just for a moment.
“It was obvious.” Ronan said in a low voice.
Ash let out a low whistle.
“You’re defending yourself an awful lot.” He teased.
“I’m not.”
“You are.” Ash laughed softly, and Ronan closed the report, done arguing.
“Say what you came to say.” Ronan snapped.
“I’m only teasing,” Ash said, hands raised again.
“But admit it.
You surprised yourself.”
Ronan said nothing, refusing to explain something he didn’t understand himself.
Ash studied him a moment longer, then let it go.
“Alright.
I’ll stop.” But Ronan knew stopping didn’t mean forgetting.
He forced his thoughts back to the report, back to something that made sense.
“Let’s talk about this,” he said, tapping the paper.
Ash’s expression sobered instantly.
“The west border’s been quiet.”
His brows drew together.
He did not like that word.
Quiet was never just quiet.
“How quiet?” He muttered.
“No activity for three months.
No scouts.
No strange scents.
Nothing.”
He leaned back against the table, eyes unfocused as he thought.
His fingers curled slowly, then relaxed.
“That should be normal,” Ronan said.
“But it isn’t.”
Ash nodded.
“That’s what I thought too.
Patrols keep reporting the same thing.
Clean ground.”
His brows furrowed.
“That’s what worries me,” Ronan said.
“Enemies make mistakes.
Silence means discipline.”
Ash exhaled.
“Or it means they gave up.”
Ronan shook his head.
“They don’t give up.” He’d learned that the hard way, through years of blood and broken alliances.
Enemy packs or rogues didn’t vanish because they were scared.
When they went silent, they were thinking.
He stared out the window at the darkening sky.
The western packs had been trouble for years, border disputes, broken treaties, skirmishes nobody bothered recording.
Ronan looked up sharply.
“They’ve never gone quiet this long,” he said.
“Maybe they’re dealing with their own problems,” Ash offered.
“Maybe,” Ronan allowed.
Then he shook his head.
“Or maybe they finally realized they cannot beat us head on.”
Ash frowned.
“And decided to wait.”
“Yes,” Ronan a said.
“And waiting is worse.”
He turned back to Ash.
“When an enemy goes silent, they’re planning something that doesn’t need noise.
We keep the patrols.
Double the scouts.
I want fresh eyes in the west, wolves who do not think the silence means safety.”
His jaw tightened.
He did not like patience in his enemies.
He respected it too much to ignore it.
“The patrols are stretched thin,” Ash said carefully.
“South’s restless.
East wants more guards.
If we pull back from the west, even briefly, we could reinforce where the actual noise is.”
“Or we walk straight into a trap,” Ronan said.
“We pull back, they move in, and by the time we notice, they’re already inside our territory.”
Ash didn’t argue right away.
That told Ronan everything.
“You agree.”
“I agree it feels wrong.
Doesn’t mean we can guard everything forever.” Ash admitted.