Then the sharp click of heels echoed outside the door. Another pack member entered the restroom.
Ronan reacted instantly.
He dropped his hand and stepped back as if burned, his expression icing over. “Miss Ravenscar,” he said loudly, “this is a place of work. Please behave appropriately. Whatever affection you show your mate should stay at home—not here.”
Your mate.
Behave appropriately.
The words washed over me like freezing rain.
Without sparing me another glance, he turned and left, his retreat swift and decisive, as though he needed everyone to see the boundary he’d just drawn between us.
I remained there, one hand resting instinctively over my stomach, shielding the life inside me.
For a long while, I stood completely still.
Even my tears had run dry.
Aria’s POV
Ronan never once acknowledged my existence in front of others.
For three full years, I was his mate in private and no one in public. To the pack—and the business world tied to it—he remained unattached: polished, confident, the kind of Alpha everyone assumed was still waiting for “the right she-wolf.” I was never that she-wolf in their eyes.
I never pressed him for an explanation.
Not once.