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But Ryder’s relaxed and nonchalant air only served to fan the flas of the warrior’s fury. Enraged by what he perceived as Ryder’s arrogance and defiance, the warrior took a nacing step forward, but another held him back.

"Don’t, Steve. The Luna won’t like it," the voice cautioned, as Steve’s face twisted in a scowl, his anger and frustration barely contained.

Steve growled at Ryder’s disappearing back, frustrated that he couldn’t claw that infuriating face of his.

...

anwhile, inside Reana’s tent, she stood with her back to the entrance, her slender figure silhouetted against the soft, golden glow of the lanterns that lit the tent. "Take off your shirt." She said the mont he stepped in.

Ryder smiled as he began to unlace his shirt, his movents deliberate and unhurried, as his eyes stuck to Reana’s back.

"I understand they’re giving you a hard ti," she began, turning to face him. Her eyes, like two glittering stars, locked onto his. "What can you do to protect and prove yourself?"

He had assured her he wasn’t weak, and Reana had taken him at his word. In their world of werewolves, respect was earned through strength and battle prowess.

A leader who couldn’t defeat their own pack mbers in a friendly fight would never gain their trust and respect.

However, for Reana, she had proven tis without numbers that she deserved their utmost trust, respect, and reverence. But that didn’t an that such respect extended to Ryder. They might pretend to show him respect when Reana was there but the mont she left, they would poke at his sore.

Reana may not have been outside, but she heard everything they said about Ryder.

So, it was ti that Ryder proved himself. He had to snatch that respect and admiration from them sohow.

"I could kill them all." He asked, casually pulling his shirt over his head to reveal his toned, muscular physique beneath, a testant to his strength and resilience.

Reana was taken aback for a mont. She thought he was joking but he seed serious.

Perhaps, he really could, in his human form. But pack mbers killing each other without authorization was punishable by death.

The warriors had only poked fun at him, and that wasn’t enough to go for the kill.

"Sit," Reana said, her gaze road over his bare torso, her expression unreadable. When he sat on her makeshift bed, she took out a small dicine bottle.

Squatting in front of him, she began, "I need you to prove yourself, Ryder," she said as she unwrapped his gauze. "But I don’t want any of you killing each other."

"As My Luna pleases," he replied smilingly, his gaze fixed intently on hers, a mix of warmth and submission in his eyes that made Reana’s heart flutter slightly.

Reana hastened up. Opening the gauze, she was stunned to find the place where a gaping wound used to be, had healed. The flesh had knitted together seamlessly, leaving no scar, no blemish, no hint of the trauma it had endured.

Although, she had expected his wound to show significant improvent, but complete healing despite the rough hour’s journey was unthinkable.

She had feared that his wound might have opened up again as a result of their travel.

"Your healing abilities are impressive." She said while putting her dicine away and raising to her full height.

"Is it?" He followed her up, smiling seductively. "I didn’t notice. Perhaps, Healer Dira has divine hands." His eyes locked onto Reana’s, sparkling with teasing innocence.

Reana didn’t comnt on that. "It’s late, head to your tent and –"

"I don’t have a tent." Ryder’s voice was matter-of-fact, his gaze never straying from hers. "But I could share Mirian’s tent. She seed to be the only one who’d let share her tent, albeit, begrudgingly. Or, I could sleep in the carriage, but" – he paused, a hint of a smile playing on his lips – "I’d rather not. The mories of being confined in there aren’t exactly... pleasant. I already bear the na, Princess."

"In other words, you’d love to share Mirian’s tent?" Reana’s voice grew sharper, a subtle yet impossible-to-ignore glare flickered in her eyes, as if daring him to confirm her suspicion.

The thought settled uncomfortably in her stomach. Ryder and Mirian, together, under the sa sheets? Reana’s eyes narrowed, a spark of unease igniting within her. She didn’t like the sound of that, not one bit.

Lost in thought, she suddenly felt warmth as he hugged her from behind, his strong arms wrapped around her waist as he pressed his chest against her back. Ryder’s gentle breath danced across her ear, "I only want to sleep under your sheets, My Luna," he whispered, his deep voice low and soothing.

Reana was startled. She didn’t even know when he got behind her. But the sound of his voice, the words he said, the close proximity of his body, and his boldness sent a flutter through her chest, making her heart skip a beat.

Reana’s eyes drifted closed. It was that scent again - lavender. It amplified the feeling of intimacy of the mont. She felt his warmth seep into her skin, his presence enveloping her like a gentle embrace. For a mont, she forgot about the world outside, forgot about the dangers and uncertainties he brought, and simply let herself be wrapped in the comfort of Ryder’s presence.

"You’re the only one I want," he whispered again, his breath dancing across her ear. "Only one I care about, My Luna." His arms tightened around her, holding her close, as if he’d never let her go.

Reana’s heart swelled at the sincerity in his voice. No man had spoken to her with such tender affection in three years, such unwavering devotion. The last person to say such sweet words was Hale.

Reana felt her defenses crumbling, her resolve weakening, as Ryder’s words wrapped around her like a gentle caress. She loved it. Every single word he said sounded right and perfect. But, she didn’t forget that this man was odd and mysterious.

Reana admitted that she was lost. She didn’t know how and why she was having such complicated feeling towards this man. It was as if she’d known him her whole life, yet she knew nothing about him.

She tried to pry his arms loose to get away, but his arms only tightened, holding her firmly in place.

"Let go, Ryder," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her heart.

"No, My Luna. I won’t let you go. Not now, not ever." Ryder’s response was a low, husky whisper in her ear.

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