The Alpha's Silent Bride: Seventh Time's The Charm novel Chapter 101

Chapter 101: 101: Werewolf Transformation

~ RONAN ~

We’re sitting across from each other, having breakfast, and I’m glad to see that she’s active again.

Thinking about the dream she had last night, I might need to consider booking some session with her therapist because I don’t know what she’s thinking. Did she actually think I was going to kill her? Is she still scared of me and only staying with me because she thinks she owes me? There are so many fucking questions piling up in my head, and the last thing I want to imagine is being the monster haunting her dreams. No man would ever want that for the woman he loves.

"How are you feeling now?" I ask, still concerned as she munches on a slice of toast. Her hazel eyes lift to meet mine.

She smiles, but I can tell from the tug at her lips that it’s forced. "Never been better." She looks back down at her food, and I let out a quiet exhale.

"Do you think you need to see Dr. Morrison again?"

I watch as she tenses up, the color draining from her face as she looks up at me. A faint crease settles between her brows.

"No. Why?"

"You had a nightmare," I say, trying to keep my voice as soft as possible.

"And?" She lets out a dry laugh, waving me off. "Everyone has nightmares, Ronan. You’re making it sound like it’s some big deal. I’m fine. She said I was fine, so..."

"It’s fine... if you don’t want to see her. I was just worried that you..."

"You see? That’s all you ever do. Worry... worry... worry." Her voice rises with every word. "I’m not a child, Ronan. I’m a fucking adult. Start treating me like one!"

Oh, boy.

Maybe I should’ve kept my mouth shut instead of bringing it up. Whatever hormones are running through her right now have her completely on edge. Never in a million years would I have imagined Roselle raising her voice at me like this.

"I’m sorry," I say quietly, lifting my hands in surrender. "I didn’t mean to upset you."

"Of course you didn’t," she snorts, already pushing herself to her feet.

"You’re not eating anymore?" I ask, instinctively reaching for her hand to stop her.

The look she shoots me says it all. Tell me what to do like I’m a child one more time, and I’ll lose it.

I release her hand immediately. "Sorry," I mutter, taking a small step back.

"Boy, wasn’t that hot?" Kael quips in my head, and I roll my eyes. Only he could find entertainment in chaos and somehow love every second of it.

I drop the last piece of toast onto my plate and let out a heavy sigh, dragging a hand through my hair. Fucking hell. A sudden urge to sweep everything off the table and watch it shatter on the floor crashes over me. I know this isn’t about me. It’s about her. But it’s driving me fucking insane that I can tell she’s hiding something from me. She’s terrified of something... maybe even terrified of me. Or maybe she found out something and doesn’t want to confront me about it. Or maybe Ethan got to her and filled her head with only Goddess knows what.

I don’t know. And I fucking hate not knowing.

I hate assumptions. I love facts. I love evidence. I like seeing things exactly as they are instead of piecing together theories that may not even be true.

People fearing me only reinforces my reputation as an Alpha. But not her. Never fucking her.

I push myself away from the dining table and walk toward the living room, where she’s curled up on the couch. Part of me wants to apologize and beg her to come back and finish breakfast, but I don’t trust myself not to make things worse than they already are.

"I have to head to work. If you need anything, just call me," I say, turning toward the front door.

I stop in my tracks when I hear her voice.

"What about the Lycan? What’s going on with him?"

I glance back at her. Her expression is completely blank.

For the first time, I can’t read her. Whatever these hormones are doing to her, they’re driving me insane. One minute she’s yelling at me, and the next she’s calmly asking about my work as if nothing happened.

"He’s still in custody," I answer. "He hasn’t revealed who his Alpha is, but we’re working on it. We also found out he isn’t a full-blooded Lycan. He was originally a werewolf who was turned into one."

I pause, frowning. "And the strangest part is... he doesn’t even know who turned him."

Her eyes light up.

No.

If I’m going to uncover the truth, I have to do it on my own.

Plan Two: Get a strand of Irina’s hair for a secret DNA test.

Hell yeah. That’s the most important part of this entire plan.

Now I just have to figure out how to pull it off without raising suspicion. More importantly, I need to keep Elias from asking who the sample belongs to, and I have to make sure Irina is nowhere near the lab when I submit it.

It’s too much.

Every plan I come up with is somehow more reckless than the last, yet I don’t have the luxury of backing out now. If I want answers, I have to be willing to risk everything for them.

A few minutes later, after searching through what feels like endless rows of books, I finally find exactly what I’m looking for.

A thick, dust-covered volume with Lycans embossed across its worn leather cover.

My pulse quickens.

I slide it from the shelf, carry it to a secluded corner of the library, and flip it open.

Within seconds, I’m completely absorbed, greedily devouring every line, paragraph, and hidden piece of information the book has to offer.

A Lycan cannot be created by choice, nor by magic alone. Only the venom carried within the fangs of a true-blooded Lycan can corrupt a werewolf’s blood, beginning the agonizing transformation. The bite delivers a potent venom that invades the victim’s bloodstream, gradually replacing the natural wolf essence with Lycan blood. No potion, spell, or ritual has ever been proven capable of replicating this process.

The transformation is neither immediate nor guaranteed. Those whose bodies reject the venom perish within days, while those who survive endure a prolonged and agonizing metamorphosis - a gradual and agonizing process that may last from several weeks to months, during which the victim’s body, wolf, and instincts are slowly rewritten into those of a Lycan.

I read the passage over and over again. This isn’t what I’m looking for. The words blur together as I stare at the page.

Because the last time I checked... Irina never bit me.