Chapter 6: The Vision's Aftermath

MAEVE

I was still reeling, my mind spinning from the images that had clawed their way into my head. My body felt foreign, too heavy, as if the weight of the vision had left me physically drained. I could barely keep myself upright, and Siobhan's worried face only deepened the fog of confusion that clouded my thoughts.

I couldn't dwell on it. Not here. Not now.

Before I could find my footing, I sensed him.

Ronan.

His presence filled the space even before I turned to see him striding toward me, his eyes sharp, scanning me like I was a puzzle he needed to solve. The air between us crackled with tension, the strange, overwhelming pull that had been building ever since the rituals. I could feel him—his concern, his authority—pressing down on me as if the air itself thickened around him.

"Maeve," Ronan's voice was low, commanding, but there was an edge of something else. Worry? His hand gripped my arm lightly, but firmly enough to steady me, as if he knew I was about to topple over. "What's going on?"

I froze under his touch, my heart racing. He must have sensed the change in me, the way my energy had shifted after the vision. He had to feel the panic rolling off me in waves, even if I tried to hide it. He was the Alpha, he probably could smell every fucking feeling on me. And yet, I couldn't tell him everything.

"I'm fine," I lied, as convincingly as I could, which, let's be honest, wasn't very convincing at all. The odds of him buying it and walking away were practically zero. The last thing I needed was to unravel in front of him, to let him see just how deep the fear really went. Honestly, I could barely wrap my own head around what had just happened, so how was I supposed to explain it to him?

"Don't lie to me, Maeve," Ronan's grip tightened ever so slightly, his eyes narrowing. "I can feel it—something's wrong. What aren't you telling me?"

"What's wrong? Let's see—being married off like a bargaining chip ranks pretty high on the list."

Not to mention this freaking vision I just had.

I looked away, pulling my arm from his grasp. As I did, my gaze landed on Siobhan, standing just a few feet away, watching us like a hawk. Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable but tense, and it suddenly hit me—I'd completely forgotten she was still there.

Just moments ago, I had been speaking with her, leaning on her for support as I tried to make sense of the vision. But the second Ronan came close, his presence had consumed everything, pulling me into a storm I couldn't escape. 

Her eyes darted between me and Ronan, suspicion etched in every glance, and I could see exactly how this must look to her. From the outside, the tension was palpable, and I was painfully aware of just how fragile I seemed. It hit me then—I was still unraveling, still reeling from what I had witnessed. 

But Ronan didn't seem to notice her presence at all. His focus still locked on me, waiting for an answer I couldn't give.

He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming, and I could feel the heat of him—how the bond between us seemed to tighten with each passing second.

"Maeve, I get it. I was right there with you, remember?" His tone was steady, but there was a flicker of frustration in his eyes. "I know this isn't what any of us wanted, but we have to make it work, at least for now. And don't think I haven't noticed you're hiding something from me." His voice softened, though the authority in it was unmistakable. "Don't shut me out. If something happened, I need to know. We're in this together, whether we like it or not."

Together.

The word clung to me, heavy and complicated. I didn't want to be in this with him. This was supposed to be temporary—a stand-in wedding, a political patch. But now, with the rituals that had bound us more tightly than either of us had expected, there was no easy escape.

I shook my head, trying to find some semblance of composure. "I'm just… tired. It's been a long night."

Sure, just "tired." Not "my-life-is-spiraling-out-of-control" tired or anything.

Ronan's eyes searched mine, and I knew he didn't believe me for a second. He could sense my hesitation, the fear still thrumming beneath my skin. But he didn't push. Not yet.

His gaze softened, and for a moment, the Alpha mask slipped. "You don't have to handle this alone," he said, his voice quieter. "If something's happening to you… we'll figure it out."

I felt a knot tighten in my chest, the weight of everything pressing down on me. Not that I didn't want his help—I didn't know how to trust it. Ronan was bound by duty, by his pack's needs, by this whole mess we'd been thrown into. He didn't care about me. Not really. Not beyond what this cursed bond demanded of him.

And yet… his concern felt real.

"I need some air," I said, this time without hesitation. I turned away from him, trying to smile. His closeness was suffocating, not because of what he was, but because of what he represented—a world I was being pulled deeper into with every passing moment.

Without waiting for a response, I slipped through the crowd, ignoring the murmur of voices around me. My heart pounded in my chest, the remnants of the vision still flashing behind my eyes, making it hard to think, hard to breathe.

I felt his gaze on me, even as I moved farther from him. He was watching. Always watching.

But I wasn't ready to let him in. Not yet.

As I stepped into the cool night air, the sounds of the reception faded behind me. The moon—blood red and looming—hung overhead like a sinister omen. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady my breathing, trying to make sense of everything that had just happened. But the weight of the vision clung to me, dragging me down.

Isabelle's face… the blood… the darkness. I couldn't shake it.

And Ronan… I could still feel his presence, even now, as if he was a part of me.

But I couldn't trust him with this.

Not yet.

***

I found myself at the edge of the clearing, far enough away from the reception to be swallowed by the shadows of the trees. The cool breeze should have calmed me, but it did nothing to still the tremor in my hands. I tried to shake off the vision, tried to push Isabelle's blood-streaked face from my mind, but it clung to me like a second skin.

I rubbed my temples, willing the memory to fade, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't escape the terror of that vision. I could still feel the slick warmth of blood on my hands, the metallic scent clogging my senses.

What does it mean? Isabelle was missing, yes, but what was I seeing? Was it a warning? Was it happening right now? Or was it something else entirely?

A twig snapped behind me, and my heart lurched. I spun around to find Ronan, his broad silhouette framed by the faint glow of the moonlight. His presence was steady, grounded, like an anchor amidst my swirling chaos.

He approached slowly, his eyes never leaving mine.

 "You're not okay, Maeve." His voice was softer now, the hard edge replaced by something gentler, something I didn't expect. "Whatever happened to you back there, it's not just exhaustion."

I sent him a look that said Well, look at you, Captain Obvious. 

But I'm not even sure if he could see that through the shadows.

I could feel the weight of his gaze, sharp and unrelenting. He wasn't going to let this go—he couldn't. The bond between us was still raw, still pulling us together in ways I didn't fully understand, but I knew he felt it as much as I did. And as much as I hated to admit it, I needed help—help to figure out what the hell was happening to me. There was no escaping that now.

"I saw something," I finally admitted. The words hung in the air, heavy and ominous. "Something terrible."

His brows furrowed, concern deepening the lines of his face. "What did you see?"

I opened my mouth to speak, but the words stuck, tangled in my throat. How could I explain the vision without sounding like I was losing it? How could I describe seeing Isabelle, drenched in blood, her face twisted in terror? I could barely make sense of it myself, unsure if I could even trust what I saw. And telling Ronan... that felt like stepping over a line I wasn't ready to cross. Not yet.

"I don't know what it was," I said, shaking my head. "But it was about Isabelle. I think she's in danger."

Ronan's jaw tightened, and I saw the flicker of something dark pass behind his eyes—anger, maybe? Or fear? His hand found my arm again, the warmth of his touch grounding me in the chilly night air.

"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?" His voice was measured, but I could hear the frustration beneath it. "If something's happening to Isabelle, I need to know now."

"I don't know what I saw, alright? And it's not like we're super close or trust each other completely," I snapped, taking a step back, needing space. "I don't even know if it's real. It could be a vision, a nightmare, or—" I cut myself off, my voice growing stronger. "I don't know."

Ronan was quiet for a moment, his eyes locked on mine, unblinking. "The rituals…" he hesitated, his voice dropping to a whisper, almost like he was talking to himself. "But it doesn't make sense—you're just human. This shouldn't be possible."

I swallowed hard. The rituals. Of course. The damned rituals that had done more than just bind us together—they'd awakened something in me. Something I didn't understand. The fucking rituals I have no knowledge about at all… what had they unleashed? What had they made me capable of seeing?

"I can't make sense of it," I whispered. "I just... it felt so real, Ronan."

He stepped closer, his expression determined, his eyes searching mine as if looking for something. After a moment, the coldness in his blue eyes softened. "I believe you."

Those words, so simple, hit me harder than I expected. I blinked, surprised by the sudden warmth in my chest. He believed me. He wasn't dismissing it as some kind of overreaction or misunderstanding. He was taking me seriously. I smiled, just barely, but still. It was the first time I had really smiled all night.

I exhaled shakily, my eyes drifting back toward the forest, the shadows stretching long and dark beneath the trees. "I don't know what to do," I admitted, my voice barely audible.

Ronan reached out, gently lifting my chin until my eyes met his. "We're in this together. We have learn to trust each other."

The word hung between us, heavy with meaning. I wasn't sure I wanted to accept what that meant, but I could feel the truth of it settling into my bones. There was no avoiding this now. Whether I liked it or not, Ronan and I were bound. Our fates tangled together in ways I couldn't begin to unravel.

For better or worse, we were in this together.

If I hear 'together' one more time, I might start believing we actually have a chance in this

I nodded slowly, the knot in my chest loosening just a fraction. "Okay," I whispered.

But even as I said it, the flicker of Isabelle's blood-soaked face lingered in my mind, haunting me, warning me that whatever this was… it was far from over.