Chapter 18 Ronan
Ronan
The morning after my little outing, I woke up with Wes’s strong arms hugging me back to his chest, and his breath warming the back of my neck. One of his legs was hooked loosely over mine, boxing me in without actually trapping me.
A small, private smile tugged at my mouth as I settled back into him, letting my hand drift over where his rested against my stomach, threading our fingers together.
Normal.
That’s what this was supposed to be.
It was what he wanted, what I was trying to give him.
“Mornin’, doll,” he murmured, voice rough with sleep.
“Morning,” I replied quietly, turning my head just enough for him to press a lazy kiss to my shoulder.
“You sleep okay?” he asked, tightening his hold slightly.
I hummed, “Yeah. You?”
“Like a rock,” he said. “Didn’t even wake up once.”
I smiled faintly at that, letting my eyes close for a brief second. “Same,” I murmured.
He nuzzled into my hair, breathing me in like he always did, and for a moment, I worried if he could smell anything different on me.
Like the lingering trace of something I’d washed away as best I could.
But he didn’t pull back, didn’t ask any questions, and just held me closer, soothing my mind.
“Well,” he said after a minute, voice lighter now, “let’s get up. I want to beat the breakfast crowd.”
“Mm. Can’t we just order room service?” I muttered, tired from my outing.
He huffed a quiet laugh, squeezing me once before finally letting go. “Nope.”
The morning unfolded easily after that, starting with a hot shower and clean clothes.
Breakfast was amazing, and eaten by a window that overlooked endless white and falling snow. Wes talked about plans for the day, and I listened, chiming in where it mattered, but letting him steer.
Now that I’d taken care of that pesky urge, I could focus on enjoying everything Wes wanted to do on this trip.
I would be a normal person on a normal vacation.
That lasted four days.
Four really good days.
We’d gone back to the spa after I handled our first visit well, and I had to admit it was nice having someone work the tension out of my muscles.
The treatment room was the kind of environment that should’ve made my skin crawl, but it didn’t.
Not with him right there beside me, occasionally reaching over just to touch, to remind me he was there.
Then this afternoon, we went skating on the frozen lake at the center of the resort, and later participated in a baking class for couples before having a delicious dinner at one of the on-site restaurants.
It’d been a perfect day.
And yet, by the time we got back to the suite that night, the itch had started again.
I tried to ignore it at first—changed into something comfortable, curled up on the couch with him, and let the fire warm my skin while he talked about something I only half-listened to.
But it didn’t go away.
I could’ve told him.
Could’ve asked him to handle it.
He would’ve.
I knew he would’ve.
But that wasn’t what I wanted.
Not this time.
So instead, I found myself back in the kitchen with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. My fingers rolled the small baggie between them, expression distant as I stared down into the dark liquid.
It had worked before. It would be fine. I was sure of it.
From the couch, Wes’s voice carried over. “Babydoll, can you bring me a glass of water too?”
“Sure,” I called back, glancing over my shoulder at him, at the way he looked stretched out and comfortable, completely at ease.
Completely unaware.
I turned back before he could catch anything in my expression, and opened the baggie, stirring it into his mug until it disappeared.
For a split second, that same flicker of discomfort from last time turned my stomach.
“It’s fine,” I murmured under my breath. “Just one more time.”
I poured him a glass of water like he’d asked, and juggled the three cups in my arms as I headed back to him.
Wes took the mug and water with an easy smile, putting the water on the side table before reaching for me with his free hand as I settled back in beside him. “Thank you, doll.”
We talked a little—nothing important. Something about tomorrow’s plans, maybe trying the mountain bar if the weather held. I answered where I needed to, kept my tone light, and my body relaxed.
All the while, I watched and waited.
It didn’t take long before his voice started to slow, words stretching slightly at the edges. His hand grew heavier where it rested against me, the motion of his thumb stuttering before stopping completely.
“Just gonna take a quick nap,” he mumbled sleepily. He pulled me a little closer, pressing a lazy kiss into my hair. “Love you.”
“I love you too,” I said softly.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Once I was sure he was asleep, I carefully slipped out of his hold and got dressed.
Then I left.
This time, I didn’t go to the same town.
I wasn’t stupid.
Even places like that noticed patterns eventually—familiar faces, repeated incidents. It wasn’t worth the risk.
So I walked in a different direction.
The longer I walked, snow crunching steadily underfoot as the resort disappeared behind me, the colder I became. It was a longer walk than the other town, but it’d be worth it to not risk getting caught.
When I finally reached the edge of the town, this one just as decrepit as the last, I kept my head down and went straight for the bar.
I slipped inside and got to work.
It didn’t take long for me to find the night’s next victim. A short, stocky man near the back caught my attention. He was already a little drunk, if the way he leaned on the table was anything to go by.
And alone.
That was the important part.
I approached the same way as before, eager to quell this dumb urge quickly so I could return to Wes’s side as soon as possible.
The man was less hesitant about me being a man than the first one and followed me outside without much convincing. I led him around the side of the building, into another dark, tucked-away space where no one would bother us.
Poor guy died practically the second we were out of sight. I reached out lightning fast, hands locking onto the base of his skull, and then snapped his neck with a satisfying crack and gurgle.
His body dropped like a stone at my feet, neck bent at a gross angle.
I took a deep breath in, looking up toward the night sky with a grin on my face.
That tight, restless feeling was gone as quickly as the man’s death had been.
Not wanting to linger, I headed back onto the street, not at all looking like I’d left a dead body behind.
It was about an hour’s walk to the resort, and I spent every minute of it wishing I could teleport myself out of this tundra and into the nice, heated room waiting for me.
When the resort finally came back into view, I sighed in relief, already picturing Wes’s sleepy self warm by the fire where I’d left him. I’d go in, shed my wet, freezing clothes, and wrap my entire body around him, just luxuriating in the heat.
I slipped inside our building without issue, just another guest returning late. The elevator took me straight up to our floor. No one else was awake to pause its ascent.
Once it let me off on our floor, it was less than a minute before I was at our door and using my keycard to open it. Wanting to be quiet as not to wake Wes, I very slowly edged the door open just enough to allow me to slip through, then shut it just as slowly.
Warmth enveloped me, welcoming me home.
Then—
I froze.
Fuck.
Wes was awake.
He sat in front of the fireplace, elbows braced on his knees, hands loosely clasped, the glow of the flames casting shadows across his face. He wasn’t slouched, wasn’t relaxed.
He was waiting.
The door clicked shut behind me.
His eyes lifted slowly until they met mine.
There was no confusion in them.
No sleepy haze.
Just… focus and anger.
“You’re back,” he said calmly.
“Yeah,” I answered, trying to keep the tremble out of my voice. “Couldn’t sleep.”
A beat of silence stretched between us, broken only by a sharp, disbelieving laugh from my husband as he stood.
“That’s funny,” he said, walking toward me. “Because I couldn’t either.”
“Wes—”
“I thought the other night was odd,” he cut in.
“I fell asleep so soon after drinking the hot chocolate. It was so… unnatural. But, I let it go,” he continued.
“Figured maybe I was overthinking it. Then tonight…” His jaw tightened slightly.
“I still thought I was being paranoid, but decided to pretend to drink what you brought me, then pretend to fall asleep. Just to see what you’d do. ”
I didn’t answer, unsure what I could possibly say to fix this. Instead, I just trembled by the door, my feet frozen in place.
“Imagine my surprise when you got up and fucking left,” he growled, making my breath catch in my throat.
The room felt smaller.
Warmer in a way that had nothing to do with the fire.
I breathed in shakily, my gaze flicking away for just a second before returning to him. “Wes, I—”
“Don’t,” he said sharply, running a hand over his face, exhaling through his nose like he was reining something in. “You drugged me… to do what?”
Something dark flickered behind his eyes, and his jaw clenched.
“I-I’m sorry…” I whispered nervously, shifting my weight from foot to foot. I was pretty sure guilt was radiating out from my pores.
“Jesus, Ro,” he breathed, turning away for half a second before dragging a hand through his hair. “I told you,” he said, each word measured as he turned to face me again. “No killing. Not here. Not on this trip.”
“I know…”
“You know,” he repeated, incredulous in a quiet way. “And you drugged me anyway? Snuck out? Not even just once, but twice? Goddammit, Ronan.”
“I needed it,” I whispered.
The words hung between us.
Honest.
His shoulders squared, something settling into place. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I can see that. And since you decided to go behind my back instead of coming to me, that tells me I haven’t been doing my job properly.”