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Chapter 13 – The Breaking Point

The moon hung low in the sky, casting pale silver light over the rogue lands. The forest stretched endlessly ahead, thick with shadows, whispering secrets to those who knew how to listen. But Ronan Devereux wasn't listening.

Not to the wind. Not to the rustling of the trees. Not to the distant howls of the wolves who prowled the night.

His focus was singular.

Selene.

She had escaped. Again.

The river should have stopped her, drained her strength, forced her to turn back. But instead, she had fought through it, emerging on the other side like a phantom, slipping from his grasp with a final, defiant glare.

Ronan's hands curled into fists at his sides. The cold night air did little to cool the heat burning through him, the relentless fire of obsession, of something deeper—something he refused to name.

She was testing him.

Pushing him.

And gods help him, he was enjoying it.

A part of him had wanted to let her go, just to see how far she would run. To watch the way her body moved, the way her mind worked to outmaneuver him, to see just how much fight she had left in her.

But he wasn't feeling patient anymore.

She had defied him too many times.

The wolf in him snarled for control, demanding he chase her down, drag her back, remind her who she belonged to.

Ronan exhaled slowly, forcing himself to still.

He was no mindless beast. He wouldn't hunt her recklessly.

No—he would be calculated. He would make her think she had won, that she was free. He would let her get comfortable. And then, when she least expected it, when she finally let her guard down—

He would take her.

And this time, there would be no escape.

A dark smile played on his lips as he turned to the group of rogues gathered behind him.

"Spread out," he ordered. "Find her trail."

His men moved instantly, shifting into their wolf forms, vanishing into the trees like wraiths.

Ronan didn't follow. Not yet.

Instead, he lifted his head, inhaling deeply.

Selene's scent was still fresh—wild and sharp, tinged with the lingering bite of the river. She was close.

And she was running out of time.

---

Selene

Her lungs burned.

Her legs ached.

Every muscle in her body screamed for rest, but Selene couldn't afford to stop. Not yet.

Not when Ronan was still out there.

Not when she could still feel the weight of his gaze on her, even from a distance.

The forest was thick around her, the trees closing in, whispering taunts with every rustling leaf. She had made it across the river, had broken free from Ronan's grasp, but she knew better than to celebrate.

This wasn't over.

It was never over.

She needed a plan. A real one.

Running wasn't enough—not against him. He was faster, stronger. And if she was being honest with herself, she knew the truth.

He wasn't just hunting her.

He was toying with her.

Letting her believe she could escape. Letting her feel the rush of freedom—only to rip it away at the last second.

Selene gritted her teeth, pushing herself forward.

She wasn't going to let him win.

She had to think like him.

Had to be ruthless.

Had to fight.

Her mind raced as she moved, scanning the terrain for anything she could use to her advantage. The rogue lands were vast, untamed. If she could find higher ground, she could get a better vantage point. Maybe even spot a place to hide.

But hiding wasn't a real option, was it?

Ronan would find her. He always found her.

The thought sent a shiver down her spine.

She needed something more. Something final.

A weapon.

Selene slowed, her breath coming fast and shallow. Her eyes darted across the forest floor. There—half-buried beneath the undergrowth, a fallen branch, thick and jagged.

Not much, but it was something.

She grabbed it, feeling the rough wood bite into her palm. It wasn't a sword. It wasn't claws or fangs.

But it would have to do.

If Ronan wanted to chase her—

Then he was going to bleed for it.

---

Ronan

The moment he caught her scent again, Ronan knew she had stopped running.

A slow smile curled his lips.

Interesting.

She wasn't just running this time.

She was planning something.

Good.

He liked it when she fought back.

The trees parted ahead, revealing a small clearing. And there she was.

Selene stood in the center, body taut, eyes sharp, a makeshift weapon clutched in her hands.

She was breathtaking.

A warrior.

His wolf growled its approval.

Ronan stepped forward, letting the moment stretch between them.

Selene didn't move. Didn't flinch.

She met his gaze head-on, defiance burning in her silver eyes.

"You never stop, do you?" she bit out.

Ronan chuckled. "Neither do you."

Selene's grip on the branch tightened.

"I'm not going with you."

Ronan tilted his head, amusement flickering across his face. "Who said you had a choice?"

Her lips curled into a snarl.

Then she lunged.

Fast.

Faster than he expected.

The branch swung toward him, a blur of motion—

But Ronan was faster.

He sidestepped at the last second, catching her wrist in one swift, effortless movement.

Selene gasped, her body jerking as he twisted her arm just enough to make her drop the weapon.

It hit the ground with a dull thud.

And then—

Ronan moved.

In one smooth motion, he spun her, pressing her back against a tree, caging her in with his body.

Selene struggled, but he was unyielding.

His hands braced on either side of her head, his breath warm against her skin.

Their bodies were so close—

Too close.

Selene stilled, chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths.

Ronan smirked.

"That was cute," he murmured. "Trying to fight me."

Selene bared her teeth. "Go to hell."

Ronan chuckled. "Darling, I am hell."

Then, before she could react, his fingers brushed her chin, tilting her face toward him.

The moment stretched—tense, electric.

Selene's heartbeat pounded against his own.

He could taste the anger in her. The resistance. The fear.

And underneath it all—

The undeniable pull.

She felt it.

Just like he did.

Ronan's lips curved into a knowing smirk.

"You can keep running, little wolf," he murmured. "But we both know how this ends."

Selene's breath hitched.

And for the first time—

She didn't have a retort.

Silence settled between them, heavy, charged.

Then—

Ronan released her.

Stepped back.

Selene blinked, stunned.

"What—"

"I'll let you go," he said simply. "For now."

Selene's brows furrowed in confusion. "Why?"

Ronan smil

ed. "Because I want you to choose to come back to me."

Selene's throat tightened.

Then, before she could say another word, Ronan turned—

And disappeared into the night.

Leaving her standing there, breathless, shaken…

And more unsure than ever.