The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 221: Chapter 221 Rescued by Ronan

When I woke, the ceiling above me was cedar, the air was thick with the scent of a healthy pack, and Ronan Vale was sitting backwards on a chair beside my bed, grinning like I’d dropped in for dinner.

"You know," he said, "most people just call ahead."

Ronan. Whose pack lands sat two hundred miles from where I’d gone into the water. I’d crossed half a country on broken ribs.

The moment I could hold a thought straight, I asked for a phone. "I need to reach Rick. My Beta. And Vanessa, the crew—they think I’m dead—"

"That’s exactly the problem." Ronan’s grin vanished. "Someone rigged a crane, planted a kid, and sent rogue hit squads sweeping the coast within a day of your fall. That takes money, planning, and ears inside your circle. Every phone around you has to be considered burned—Rick’s, your office, all of it. You call in, whoever wants you dead knows you’re alive within the hour."

My hands curled into fists on the blanket. "So I sit here. Dead."

"There’s one line they wouldn’t dare tap," Ronan said, watching me carefully. "One person they’d never expect a dead man to reach for through a stranger."

Aria.

Her number wasn’t in any pack directory. Her life barely touched mine on paper—we’d made sure of that, to keep her safe. The one thread they couldn’t see.

"Contact her," I said hoarsely. "Get her here. Whatever it takes."

Ronan raised an eyebrow. "And if she doesn’t trust a strange wolf crawling out of the dark?"

I looked down at my hand—at the pale band of skin where my ring had sat since the day she put it there.

Then I worked it off my finger, every millimeter feeling like tearing off a piece of myself, and dropped it into his palm.

"She’ll trust this."

---

That had been yesterday.

Ronan had left to make contact. And I’d been stuck here ever since, pacing the room like a caged animal. Wondering if she’d believe him. Wondering if she’d come.

*She’ll come,* my wolf said again, reading my thoughts. *She loves you. She’ll come.*

"And if she doesn’t?"

Silence.

Then, quietly: "Then we go to her. Injuries be damned. We drag ourselves back to New York and we make her listen."

Despite everything, I felt my mouth twitch. Almost a smile.