Ronan inhaled and spoke as if stating something perfectly reasonable: "She's carrying a pup. She's bearing my heir during her Heat. And you—you can't produce pups."
That reason nearly knocked me off my feet.
So that was it.
"But being unable to bear pups—is that really a reason?"
"There are so many healer remedies now. Carrying a pup isn't impossible for barren Omegas. So why are you saying I can't?"
I laughed, mocking him.
And as I laughed, it suddenly clicked.
"You never loved me. Raven is the one you've always wanted, isn't she? Once you had power and territory, you went running back to your first choice to have pups with her."
"But have you forgotten how she used to treat you? Do you have some kind of submission-sickness?"
In my memory, Raven Ashthorne had tormented Ronan more times than I could count.
Before we'd built ourselves up from nothing, that Omega from the rival territory had made his life hell.
She'd forced him to eat scraps meant for the lowest-ranked wolves. Made him kneel and bare his throat before her.
On our mating ceremony day, she'd shown up at the sacred grounds and set the bonding altar ablaze.
Our ritual had only made it halfway through.