The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 52

Chapter 52: 052: I choose you.

~ RONAN ~

The day has been absolutely fucking hectic.

I’ve been stuck in back-to-back meetings since dawn—pack territory disputes, warrior training schedules, alliance agreements with neighboring packs, and a fucking audit of our border security. Kael has been restless all day, pacing under my skin, complaining about being away from Roselle, whining like a lovesick fool.

"We should be home. At least give her a heads-up that we’re tied up with work..."

"She’s fine," I reply, trying to convince myself just as much as him. "She’s with Celeste, and she’s safe."

Thinking about it sends a wave of unease creeping down my spine. It’s unlike Kael to be this insistent, and vocal about wanting to go home. Usually, he’s content to let me handle pack business without a word.

But ever since we grew closer to Roselle, he’s become more present, more demanding... and fiercely protective.

I’m in my office when Caius finally arrives, a folder of documents clutched in his hands. He looks exhausted, his usually pristine suit rumpled and his tie loosened.

"We’re done," he says, dropping the folder onto my desk with a heavy thud. "The territorial agreement is finalized. Warren keeps his position as Alpha of Westbrook, but Roselle holds fifty percent authority over pack decisions, resource allocation, and strategic planning. Any major decision requires her signature or approval."

I lean back in my chair, satisfied.

"Good work," I say, opening the folder and scanning the documents. "When can she sign?"

"Whenever you want," Caius responds. "I’ve prepared everything. All she has to do is sign three documents, and the agreement becomes legally binding under pack law and Council oversight."

I nod, my mind already moving forward. There’s so much to do before the Council meeting tomorrow. The vetting of our wedding bond has been scheduled, which means the Council will need to assess Roselle, and verify that she’s mentally and emotionally capable of becoming Luna of Black Shadow Pack.

It’s a formality, mostly. But with her trauma history, there’s always a chance some Council member will try to argue that she’s unfit. The thought makes my hands clench into fists.

"Set up a time for her to review and sign these," I tell Caius. "This week, if possible. The sooner it’s official, the better."

Caius nods and heads out, leaving me alone with the stack of documents that represent Roselle’s reclaimed power.

By the time I finish reviewing everything and delegating final tasks to my Betas, it’s nearly eight o’clock in the evening. The sun is already setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and purple. I’ve missed dinner. I’ve missed the entire afternoon with her.

The drive home feels longer than usual. Kael is practically vibrating with impatience beneath my skin, and I have to actively restrain him from forcing me to drive faster.

The moment we make it to the pack house, I stride through the front doors, already calling out for Roselle.

I’m home, I announce through the bond. The response I get back is fuzzy, emotional, and tinged with something I can’t quite identify.

I find her curled up on the living room couch while Celeste fusses over her hand. My entire body goes rigid.

Her right hand is wrapped in white bandages, and even from across the room, I can see dark spots where blood has seeped through. Her face is pale.

A deep frown settles on my face as I cross the room in quick strides.

"What happened?" I ask, unable to keep the concern from my voice. "Who hurt you? Where?"

Celeste immediately stands and steps back, giving me space. She can sense the change in my demeanor, the fierce protectiveness radiating from every inch of me.

She holds up her bandaged hand, and even through the white wrappings, I can tell the injury is bad. Blood has already soaked through the bandages, revealing deep cuts that are still bleeding.

Celeste speaks up hesitantly. "There was an incident at the medical building, Alpha. A child’s backpack got caught in an elevator. Roselle stopped the elevator, freed the boy, but her hand was injured in the process...."

I’m not listening anymore. I’m staring at Roselle, at the evidence of her selflessness, at the way she risked her own body to protect a child she didn’t even know.

I pull her into my arms, careful of her injured hand, and hold her against my body. My face buries itself in her hair, breathing in her scent.

I can hear her heartbeat hammering against my chest as she buries her face into me.

"You could have been seriously hurt," I say, my voice rough with emotion I can’t quite contain. "You could have been killed."

But even as I say it, I’m not angry. I’m in awe. I pull back just enough to look at her face, my hand cradling her cheek.

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