Vivian didn't know what to make of her situation. It was unfortunate enough that she was soon destined for death; now she was suddenly the fated mate of a cursed Lycan who demonstrated quite clearly that she was unwanted.
"And now you've found me," Vivian uttered in a small, soft voice, "but I'm broken and barren. As always… I'm a disappointment to my pack…and now a disappointment to you."
Ronan's expression tensed, cautioning himself that he needed to choose his words carefully. While he wasn't opposed to the destiny the fates ordained for him, he wasn't exactly prepared to welcome it either.
His hand cradled her chin again, bringing the she-wolf's head up to meet his dark eyes.
"You are fertile, to me and only me," Ronan repeated more firmly this time, determined to ensure his point had gotten across and sunk into Vivian's mind. He bent down, his lips inches away from her ear, which slightly twitched when his heated breath brushed over it. "Only I can give you a child, which is as it should be."
"But you don't even want to touch me in that way." Vivian shuddered, his movements sending strange tingles down her spine. "I was in heat and you knew you were my mate but you didn't take me." Her words were almost spiteful, as if she were accusing Ronan.
The Lycan stood up straight again and frowned down at her, his thumb brushing the tears from Vivian's cheeks.
"What kind of mate would I be if I forced myself on you when you were injured and frightened?" Ronan posed his question, hoping the she-wolf would understand his previous actions better.
Both he and his Lycan half bloody well knew he barely restrained himself when she was in heat. He was a tattered thread away from claiming her right then and there, but he powered through his desires and remained courteous.
"I'm not one of those Alphas who takes what isn't yet theirs to take," Ronan justified himself further. "If I took your body while leaving your spirit adrift, I would be no better than them."
Ronan's justifications were simply meaningless words, and Vivian was far too jaded to be swayed by them.
She shrugged one shoulder, her next words nonchalant, "It's just fucking."
Ronan's hand slid under her chin again, tipping Vivian's face up. He bent his head, their lips just touching. The kiss was slow and soft, the lightest of presses, but it set the she-wolf's heart alight with excitement.
Ronan pressed closer, crowding Vivian against the tree he leaned against. His hands came up on either side, framing her face, fingers slipping under her chin, and tipping her head up higher.
The Lycan's lips trailed lower, pressing a kiss to her jaw, then to the soft, vulnerable skin of her neck, where it quickly reddened under the ministrations of his lips.
Ronan found a point where the pulse beat strongly beneath Vivian's skin, licking and kissing it, drawing a moan from her as tingles of pleasure spread through her to her fingers and toes.
Vivian's hands crept up to grab fistfuls of Ronan's shirt; her eyes warm from tears had closed. Involuntarily, her hand moved to cradle the back of the Lycan's head, threading her fingers through the silky black curls.
Her lips parted in bliss as the heat pooling between them completely ensnared her, refusing to let go.
Impossibly, Vivian found her body responding willingly to the Lycan Alpha's proximity.
That never occurred outside of her heat.
"Mating is much more than just fucking," Ronan rumbled in her ear before pulling back.
Noticing that the she-wolf had grown weak in the knees, the Lycan swept her up into his arms, eliciting another gasp from Vivian.
She gathered a moment to catch her breath from the sensations that left her gasping, raising two fingers and pressing them to her lips; she swallowed hard.
Glancing up at Ronan, she discovered the slightest of smiles on his usually stoic face.
The Lycan thought his actions were no doubt impulsive; perhaps the stupidity of his desires was stronger than his hatred towards her Pack.
Or perhaps his Lycan half was beginning to dominate, and its instincts were what spurred his actions.
Vivian blushed every so lightly, a light dusting of pink across her cheeks. She rested her head against Ronan's chest as his strong hands directly touched the skin on the undersides of her bare thighs.
The Lycan Alpha didn't seem to think much of it and began to walk back to the house with her in his arms.
"We've walked for a long time; you must be tired," Ronan said, breaking the silence. "I'll take you back to wash up, and then you'll rest."
Later on in the evening, Ronan decreed Vivian stable enough to eat at the table, so they sat in companionable silence while they ate their meal.
Vivian absentmindedly found herself spooning around the last spoon of peas on her plate, pushing them around as she thought back to the soft, tender kiss she shared with the Lycan Alpha earlier.
She denoted that Ronan never seemed quick to directly share his thoughts and feelings. The unreadable man always answered vaguely, being overly cautious with his words and reactions.
From that observation, Vivian decided she wouldn't overstep her boundaries and question him unnecessarily.
She wouldn't want to end up a seared wolf steak on his plate, now would she?
"No, I don't eat wolf cubs for breakfast," Ronan rumbled, noticing the obvious question in her eyes. "Not anymore, that is," he added sarcastically a second later, but Vivian was still unsure of how to discern between truth and sarcasm with him.
She frowned up at him, a question on her lips.
"In case you were wondering," Ronan said, leaning back in his chair. "You looked like you were thinking about something serious."
A joke. The Lycan Alpha made jokes.
Vivian couldn't help but laugh softly, and the sweet, beautiful sound had Ronan's jaw shifting tensely.
It was the first time he'd heard her laugh; as soft and faint as it was, it complemented the meaning behind her name.
To be alive. Vivian meant to live and to be alive.
"But you're a Lycan," Vivian blurted out, her lips protruding into a subtle pout. "Don't you eat other shifters?"
"I am indeed a Lycan," Ronan agreed, scooping another helping of casserole onto her plate. He didn't care to answer her question, letting the mystery hang in the air between them.
When Vivian realised Ronan had no intention of answering her, she shifted the course of the topic.
"You're a Lycan and I'm a regular wolf," Vivian stated, drawing her knees up to her chest on the chair. Of course, she was so tiny that her entire body could be compacted onto the seat, and the Lycan noticed it was a habit she developed. "I can't be your true mate. Lycans despise us wolves."
Ronan, spoon halfway to his mouth, seemed to think better of it and set it back down on his plate.
"Lycans don't mate with Lycans; they mate with other shifters. That's how it's always been. And we're not the only shifters who do so," the Lycan explained.
"But why?" Vivian tilted her head to her shoulder, intrigued and curious.
"Lycans are always male, always Alpha. No other way."
Once again, Ronan answered vaguely, and Vivian suspected he was omitting other finer details.
"But how do you even know I'm your true mate? We just met," Vivian questioned, wondering how Lycans identified their fated mate.
Ronan sat back against, folding his arms. He appeared unimpressed at being questioned.
"I knew the moment I set eyes on you and caught your scent," the Lycan confirmed, his gaze narrowing when he noticed Vivian's shirt slightly hung off her left shoulder, where the skin was fair but complemented by a pale shade of pink. "There is no question. You're mine."
Ronan's unwavering stare sent a shiver through Vivian, her skin pebbling shyly.
"I'm damaged," she reminded the Lycan, once again taking on that accusatory and spiteful tone. "You said it yourself. The marks will keep burning; eventually, your medicine will stop working, and my shifter energy will be worn down. What then?"
Ronan stood up abruptly, pushing back his chair, and walking over to her side.
Effortlessly, he lifted her from under the arms and made her sit on the table so that she was eye level with him. He leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of her on the table, caging her.
"Won't get that far." His voice was laced with strong promise as his eyes bore into hers. Vivian's hands remained on her lap, fidgeting with the hem of the shirt. "You're well enough to travel now. We leave tomorrow."
"Why? Where…are we going?" She asked softly, somewhat intimidated and shy because of his close proximity.
"North. To get you help."