The penthouse was everything she expected and nothing she could handle.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked Manhattan's skyline, rain streaking the glass like tears. Furniture that probably cost more than her mother's house. Art that belonged in museums. And everywhere—everywhere—the scent of him.
Cedar. Smoke. And something darker now that her senses were waking.
Elara stood in the center of his living room, dripping onto marble floors, and tried very hard not to fall apart.
Ronan appeared behind her with a towel, draping it over her shoulders. "Sit down."
"I'm not going to sit down. I'm going to wake up. This is a nightmare—"
"Suit yourself." He moved to a wet bar, pouring amber liquid into a crystal glass. "But the explanation's going to take a while, and you're already shaking."
She hated that he was right. Hated that her legs were trembling, that her hands wouldn't stop shaking, that the warmth in her chest kept purring every time he got close.
"The wolf," she managed. "You shifted. In front of me. In a boardroom in midtown Manhattan."
"I own the building. The floor is soundproofed, the windows are blackout, and my security team is very well paid." He took a long drink, watching her over the rim. "You're focusing on the wrong details."
"Am I?" She laughed—sharp, hysterical. "Let's see. You're a werewolf. You just told me I'm your mate. I signed a contract agreeing to spend thirty nights in your bed. And apparently, I have until tomorrow night to shift or die. What exactly should I be focusing on?"
He set down his glass and crossed to her. "This."
His hand pressed against her chest—right over her heart, right over that warm spot where the new voice lived.
"Feel that?"
She did. Heat radiating from his palm, sinking through skin and bone to wrap around something she hadn't known existed.
"That's the bond. It's real. It's permanent. And it's the only thing that might save you tomorrow night." His thumb traced small circles against her sternum. "Your wolf knows me now. Trusts me. When the shift starts, that trust will keep you anchored. Keep you from losing yourself in the pain."
"And if I don't want your help?"
"Then you'll die." He said it simply, without cruelty. "And I'll follow you three days later. Because a mate can't survive without their other half."
The words hit her like physical blows.
"You'd die? For me? After what I did to you?"
Ronan's jaw tightened. "I've spent five years trying not to die for you. Trying to convince myself that what I felt was obsession, not fate. That I could move on, find someone else, build a life without the woman who destroyed me." He caught her chin. "I can't. There's no one else. There never was. There never will be."
Elara's eyes burned with tears she refused to shed.
"I don't love you," she whispered.
"I know."
"I don't even like you."
"I know that too."
"I signed that contract because I had no choice. Because you backed me into a corner."
"I know, Elara." His voice was rough. "I know all of it. And I don't care. I'll take your hate. I'll take your fear. I'll take whatever you're willing to give, and I'll wait for the rest. Because that's what mates do. They wait. They fight. They endure."
Before she could respond, his phone buzzed.
He glanced at the screen, and his face went pale.
"What?"
"That was Mabel." His voice was strange. "Your aunt."
"My aunt Mabel died years ago—"
"No. She's been watching. Protecting. Waiting for this night." He looked up, and Elara saw fear in his eyes for the first time. "The Nightshade pack knows you've woken. They're moving on your mother's house. Tonight."
Elara's blood turned to ice.
"Theo." Her brother's name tore from her throat. "Theo came home for the weekend. He's there. He's human, Ronan—"
"I know." He was already moving, grabbing keys, pulling her toward the door. "We're going. Now."
"The moon—you said I have until tomorrow—"
"The moon doesn't care about your timetable." He caught her face between his hands. "The stress, the fear, the danger—it could trigger your shift early. If it happens while we're fighting, you have to trust me. You have to let me guide you through it."
"And if I can't?"
His eyes held hers for a long moment.
"Then I'll die trying to protect you anyway. Because that's what mates do."
He pulled her into the elevator, and they plunged toward the garage, toward her family, toward a future that would either save everything she loved or destroy them all.