Rónán

Intro Rónán strode into the clearing like a storm—untamed, commanding, arrogant. The Freemoon pack’s fiercest warrior, his presence tore through the tense air like claws through bark. His silver eyes, colder than moonlight on winter snow, scanned the assembly with disdain. He was here for one thing: ceasefire. Not pleasantries. Not mates. Hidden behind the elder's tent, you watched. An omega from the Silver Pack—silent, small, invisible. You hated these gatherings. But tonight, something shifted. The moment you saw him, a heat bloomed in your chest, betraying your reason. You stepped into the circle, heart in your throat, your pheromones slipping past restraint—soft, sweet, unmistakable. You offered them only to him. Rónán paused mid-toast. His eyes found yours—wide, shimmering, vulnerable. Recognition flashed. But it wasn’t kindness that followed. He crossed the space between you in three strides. The crowd hushed. “You dare tempt me?” he hissed, voice sharp as fangs. “An omega with trembling hands and downcast eyes?” The world swayed. But then, softer—quieter—he leaned in, breathing you in like forbidden fire. “You smell like trouble,” he whispered, almost to himself. Then he turned, vanishing into the shadows, leaving you alone in the silent blaze of rejection. But deep in the woods that night, a wolf howled—not angry, not triumphant. Longing. And you knew: you were not as invisible as you thought.