Losing control

Recommended listening: [Eyes don't lie-Isabel LaRosa]

Vivian wanted to enquire further about their trip North, but when Ronan didn't relay anymore information, she understood that it would be wise not to let her curiosity get the better of her.

The Lycan's face was merely a few inches away from hers, and she found herself subconsciously drawing her knees up to her chest again while seated on the edge of the table, his arms on either side of her still.

Why wasn't the Lycan Alpha moving away?

Ronan simply gazed at her, his amber eyes unwavering and fixated on her. His expression was unreadable; he neither moved closer nor away.

A few minutes of silence passed, and the Lycan raised one hand, gathering a few locks of Vivians dishevelled silverish white hair on his fingertips.

"Was your hair always this colour?" The Lycan asked, his fingers combing through the locks.

Vivian shook her head, pressing her cheek against her knee with her head turned on its side while she watched him.

"It used to be... something like a golden brown," the she-wolf said, a sad smile lingering on her lips. "That's what my mom would say when she was alive and I was younger. My hair turned this colour after what the Wickans did."

Ronan's jaw twitched upon the mention of the perpetrators of his mate's suffering. Witches tasted absolutely repulsive, but if, by some miracle, the ones responsible for her condition appeared before him, he would unleash his Lycan and tear their skin clean off their bones.

Vivian swallowed anxiously, concerned about the darkening expression on the Lycan's face.

Ronan was often renowned for his impeccable control over his Lycan half; however, ever since Vivian's unexpected arrival, the man found his last thread of restraint barely holding the beast at bay.

Whether it was anger for the heinous crimes comitted against the she-wolf or its desires for its mate, his Lycan half had begun to slip through now and then.

When Ronan grabbed more of Vivian's silver locks with his fingertips, she tensed abruptly. The man's pupils flashed a faint amber glow, signifying remnants of the Lycan's dominance within him. He continued stroking her silken hair and Vivian shifted her posture nervously.

Ronan leaned closer, the bridge of his nose lightly grazing against her jaw, inhaling Vivian's feminine scent with an approving rumble vibrating from deep within his broad chest.

His Lycan half was fully in control.

The heat from Ronan's skin radiated onto Vivian's and she unconsciously sucked in a soft gasp.

"W-Why are you doing this?" Vivian questioned hesitantly, a soft whimper escaping from the corner of her lip. Why was the Lycan Alpha suddenly so…intimately interested in her? Wasn't he averse to touching her and accepting her as his mate?

Ronan's lips curled into a smirk against Vivian's jaw. "Because I want to, little wolf."

His tone was different from before. It was more dominating, more possessive…more devilish; almost as if he was teasing her.

The Lycan inhaled a scent deeply, a low growl rumbling in his throat. 

"You smell exquisite," Ronan purred. "Intoxicating…"

Vivian shuddered at his words when his cold lips brushed over her throat, making her arch her head back.

Amber flashed through Ronan's eyes as his Lycan half stirred once more, roused by the alluring sight of its mate in front of it. He peered deeply into her eyes and tenderly stroked her cheek.

Ronan had to forcibly fight off his Lycan half to regain control of his senses. He suppressed the beast, closing his eyes tightly until the amber glow faded and his expression flattened.

He shook his head, pulling back from the table and Vivian.

The she-wolf nearly jumped at the sudden shift in his demeanour; her lips parted in question. She reached for him to say something, anything, but Ronan stormed out of the kitchen.

The only thing she heard was his harsh footsteps on the wooden floors leaving the doorstep, shutting the door behind him.

Vivian pressed her lips into a thin line before letting out a sigh.

"Maybe he didn't like me after all…" She concluded, somewhat disappointed with the outcome of the interactions between them.

What was she supposed to do to satisfy the Lycan Alpha? If she couldn't perform her duties as an omega efficiently, then what use was she as a mate?

Vivian was left to her own devices until she made her way back to the room. The burn and pain began to return, but she plopped herself in the middle of the furs and huddled herself to sleep.

Ronan only returned the following morning to awaken her. The Lycan Alpha didn't bother to speak to her other than to allow her to wash herself up and then redress all her burns.

He still hadn't found the opportunity to retrieve clothes and necessities for her; hence, he gave her another one of his shirts to wear.

Vivian managed to make do with her shawl. She turned the tattered surface inside and tied it around her waist to form a decent, makeshift skirt, tucking the hem of the shirt inside it.

She was more than happy to finally be able to wash her unkempt hair and comb out the knots, leaving it to air dry. 

Unfortunately, Ronan didn't have any suitable shoes for her in his possession, so he wrapped bandages on the undersides of her feet over the top for the time being. He'd already decided she wouldn't be walking by herself along their travels.

Vivian had to hide her blush from creeping onto her cheeks when the Lycan meticulously handled her feet as if it were the most fragile thing.

His hands were large, rough, but careful. 

When he was done, the Lycan Alpha made his way to the bathroom to freshen himself up.

Ronan returned shortly after, shirtless. His body was pure muscle, a slightly tanned skin colour. No doubt, the Lycan had honed his body to perfection.

There were many scars riddled across his back.

Vivian observed shyly as his back muscles rippled with the slightest of movements. Her eyes narrowed curiously when she spotted a mark on his left shoulder.

"Is that…" Vivian began to ask, daring to break the silence between them.

"My mating mark," Ronan answered her, turning around as he approached the she-wolf. He kneeled down in front of her so that they were at eye level, unexpectedly taking her hand in his.

Ronan guided her hand to the mark, allowing her fingers to trace across it. There was the faintest change in the texture of the skin overlying it. It was shaped like a rough star and dark in colour.

There was something about it that drew the eye.

"Why...don't I have one?" Vivian asked, slowly running her fingers over the mark, but Ronan seized her hand from dwelling on his skin for too long.

"You'll get one after we mate."