The scent of burning wood and damp earth clung to the air as Ronan led me deeper into Blackthorn territory. I kept my eyes lowered, my body relaxed but ready. Every step I took through the towering iron gates felt like walking into the lion’s den—or, rather, the wolf’s.

The camp was alive with movement. Warriors strode across the open grounds, their eyes sharp and assessing. Some carried weapons, others sparred in wide training yards enclosed by wooden palisades. A few children darted between the huts, their laughter piercing the tense atmosphere like flickers of light through the storm.

I felt their gazes—silent, calculating. They didn’t trust me.

Good.

Trust was dangerous. It made people soft, made them vulnerable. It was better this way.

But Ronan… he watched me differently.

He had barely spoken since we left the site of my so-called “rescue,” but I could feel his presence like a storm brewing at my back. There was no doubt in my mind—he didn’t believe a single word I had said.

And yet, he hadn’t turned me away.

That was the part that interested me most.

“Alpha.”

One of the warriors stepped forward, his piercing gaze locking onto Ronan with clear deference. He was lean but powerful, his dark hair cropped short, his stance rigid. I recognized him immediately—Lorien Blackwood, the Beta.

“I don’t like this,” Lorien said flatly, his emerald eyes flicking toward me before returning to Ronan. “You know nothing about her.”

Ronan didn’t break stride. “I know enough.”

Lorien scoffed. “You know she was running from rogues. That’s it. We’re supposed to believe she just stumbled into our territory?”

I shifted slightly, letting my shoulders tense just enough for them to notice. I let my breath tremble. “I didn’t—”

Ronan’s gaze snapped to me, cutting off my words before they fully left my lips.

My pulse quickened.

His eyes burned into me, not just with suspicion, but with something deeper. Something instinctive. He was searching for something, picking apart every movement, every flicker of emotion. He could sense that something was wrong—but he couldn’t quite figure out what.

I held my breath, waiting.

Then, he turned away, dismissing Lorien’s concerns with a single clipped command.

“She stays.”

Lorien stiffened, clearly wanting to argue, but he was loyal. Instead of pushing further, he exhaled sharply through his nose, glaring at me before stepping back.

Interesting.

Ronan didn’t completely trust me, but he wasn’t handing me over to his Beta either. That meant something.

It meant I still had time.

Ronan brought me to a cabin near the heart of the territory. It was small but sturdy, built from thick logs and stone. A fireplace sat cold in the corner, the scent of old embers lingering in the air.

I stepped inside cautiously, my fingers grazing the rough wooden table at the center of the room.

“You’ll stay here.” Ronan’s voice was calm but firm. “Under watch.”

I turned slowly, meeting his gaze. “Thank you.”

A flicker of something crossed his face. Surprise? Confusion? Whatever it was, it disappeared just as quickly as it had come.

“Don’t thank me yet,” he said. “You haven’t earned it.”

I nodded, keeping my expression carefully neutral. He wanted me to prove myself—to prove I wasn’t a threat.

But that was the problem.

I was a threat.

And the more time I spent here, the closer I got to completing my mission.

Ronan studied me for another long moment, then turned on his heel. “Lorien.”

The Beta appeared instantly in the doorway, arms crossed.

“She doesn’t leave this cabin alone,” Ronan ordered. “Not until I say otherwise.”

Lorien smirked, his emerald eyes gleaming with barely concealed amusement. “Babysitting duty? Lovely.”

“I don’t need a babysitter,” I muttered before I could stop myself.

Lorien barked out a laugh. “Oh, I like her.”

Ronan’s expression didn’t change. “Keep her in line.”

With that, he was gone, disappearing into the night like a shadow himself.

I released a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

The first night in Blackthorn was long.

Sleep didn’t come easily. I sat curled in the corner of the cabin, watching the fire I had built flicker against the stone walls. The warmth should have been comforting. It wasn’t.

I was used to the cold.

The quiet stretched on, but I knew I wasn’t alone.

Outside, just beyond the door, I could hear the steady rhythm of footsteps—Lorien, no doubt keeping a watchful eye on me. He would expect me to try and escape.

I wouldn’t. Not yet.

Instead, I waited.

Waited for the shift in the air, the subtle ripple of movement that told me someone else had arrived.

Then—there it was.

The door creaked open, just slightly. Not enough for him to step inside. Just enough for me to see him.

Ronan.

I didn’t move.

For a long moment, neither did he. He simply stood there, watching me through the flickering light of the fire. His eyes were unreadable, his face carved from stone.

Then, finally, he spoke.

“Why were they chasing you?”

His voice was softer than before. Not gentle. But not as sharp.

I hesitated, curling my fingers into my palms. “I told you. They killed my pack.”

Silence.

He didn’t believe me.

I could see it in the way his jaw tightened, the way his gaze flickered across my face, searching for the lie.

But he didn’t press.

Instead, he said, “Get some rest.”

Then he was gone, the door closing behind him with a quiet click.

I exhaled, slow and measured, staring at the empty space where he had stood.

Ronan was dangerous.

Not just because of his strength or his title, but because of the way he saw me.

Most people looked at me and saw what I wanted them to see. A stray. A girl without a home. An easy mark.

But Ronan?

He looked at me like he was already unraveling my secrets.

And that was the most dangerous thing of all.

The next morning, I was given new clothes—simple but warm. The kind of thing a pack member would wear.

The message was clear.

Ronan wanted me to fit in.

It was a test. One I planned to pass.

I stepped outside, the morning air crisp against my skin. Warriors were already moving through the camp, training and patrolling. A few cast lingering glances my way, but most ignored me.

For now.

Lorien leaned against the cabin’s outer wall, arms crossed. “So,” he drawled, “you planning to stick around, then?”

I forced a small smile. “I don’t have anywhere else to go.”

Another lie.

But a necessary one.

Lorien watched me for a moment, then pushed off the wall. “Come on. Ronan wants you to see the camp.”

My pulse quickened.

This was it.

The first real step toward getting inside the Blackthorn Pack. Toward getting close to Ronan.

I forced my expression into something neutral and followed Lorien down the dirt path, deeper into Blackthorn.

Into the heart of my mission.

Into the beginning of the end.