The cursed Moon.

Ronan was seated in the dinning hall, Mena just a few seats down. He thought over her behavior earlier today, the fierce look in her eye as he felt the air of her whizzing arrow brush past his face, it stirred excitement in him. Most everything she said and did had that effect on him.

If Ronan did not know any better, he would have felt her jealous of the attention that he was receiving from the young woman he had been standing with at the time. Her apologetic look after the arrow incident may have fooled his companion, but not him. Mena made no apologies for her behavior, who she was. She was headstrong, tough, feminine, and a beauty to boot. She was perfection, and yet, he could not bring himself to dive into the bond they shared; it seemed neither could she. It baffled him how she remained as stubborn as he was, he had held out hope she would have caved, then he wouldnt have to, then he would win whatever game they were playing.

He was somewhat glad she was resisting. If she had been needy, fawned over him, pleaded he accepted their fate, the want to avoid her would have been easy. Unfortunately she had been more like him than he imagined, it appeared neither one of them were ready to admit defeat.

“You are fierce for a woman, sure. You fight like a male, but you flatter yourself if you believe you can drink like one” Ronan heard the comment from one of his warriors, Scout, directed to Mena. He smirked, she would see this as a challenge, he waited patiently for her reply.

“Use your words wisely Scout, I could surpass you at any challenge you give me. I wouldn't want you to look a fool in-front of your comrades again. You would think you would have learnt after the amount of dust I made you eat during training” Mena's wit was as quick as a whip.

“I was of course going easy on you, the question is, do you accept my challenge?” Scout asked eagerly.

“It is no challenge, but if you insist.” Mena answered as she filled her mug with more ale.

“What are our rules? There must be conditions, a winner must be named.” Scout offered.

“It's pretty straightforward, is it not? You and I shall drink, until one of us can consume no more, first to faulter, to fall, loses.” Mena smiled. Scout had underestimated her abilities and she knew it.

Ronan finished his own brew, stood and took a new seat, right next to Mena. He realized he should avoid her, but he was eager to see the look on her face when she had drunken Scout under the table.

He couldnt help but notice the way her body stiffened as she became aware of Ronan's presence. Her scent invaded him, but yet she would not turn to face him.

“Come to suggest I should not enjoy a friendly competition because of my apparent frail state, or have you come to mock me?” Mena asked quietly, although still not meeting his eyes.

“Quite the opposite actually, huntress, I have come to place my bet on this little drinking game you have entered.” Ronan smiled.

“I assume you are betting against me of course?” Mena answered dryly.

"It appears you have misjudged me, I would always bet on you when it comes to a challenge." he replied.

“But?” She genuinely believed Ronan had no faith in her, and he felt a sting of guilt. Perhaps he had been too harsh on her, but perhaps not. She seemed to thrive when trying to prove herself to others.

“But nothing, I am no fool with my currency. I believe Scout here has foolishly underestimated you, the first night I came here you handled your liquor well, far better than Apollo anyway.” he recalled a wobbly legged Apollo, slurring his words as he had challenged Mena to an arm wrestle, she took only seconds to pin his arm to the table. Obviously Mena had remembered too as he swore he heard a giggle float from her.

It was definitely a laugh, it was melodic, it rang through his ears and straight into his soul. He had never heard her laugh before and the sound had caught him off guard. It was surprisingly adorable for such a serious woman.

“Since you mean to place your bet on me I would of course want half of your winnings for the effort.” she joked. Ronan knew her to be sharp, her humor made that even more evident.

“And if I lose all my money and Scout is victorious?” He asked, knowing it to be improbable.

“Are you suggesting a side bet Ronan?” The twinkle in her eye was not lost on him.

“Perhaps, first what would be in it for me?” He asked teasingly.

“When I whip Scout it has already been settled I will have half of your winnings, if I loose, which by the way is most unlikely, you are welcome to ask of me anything you like. That is how confident I am that I could beat your men at almost any challenge, scratch that, any challenge.” Mena answered before refilling her mug.

“Anything you say?” Ronan asked with intrigued.

“Within reason.” she shrugged.

“Well then huntress, you best hope you win.” he smiled widely at her and for the first time since they started conversing she met his eyes. Her face mirrored his own, a full smile, a smile that left him breathless.

He watched on as she downed the drink infront of her with determination, he could tell then that they were in for a long night. She would not lose this, she would not give him that satisfaction.

They had been drinking for some time. Mena's words had begun to slur, but she still looked in much better condition than Scout, who sat swaying on his chair. She had become loud, her humor improving with each drink. Ronan noticed the red that had begun to show itself upon her cheeks, she glowed in her own right, his men enthralled with her beauty and even more so with her ability to hold her own.

In training, she had directed them with a sternness. They hung on her every word, wanting to learn from her. They respected her, another aspect Ronan found endearing.

Would it be so bad? To surrender to her pull? There would never be a dull moment in his life moving forward. He would be challenged by her, she would push him to his limits in everything. He knew in himself that he had never, and would never encounter a creature such as Mena twice in his lifetime, no matter how long he lived. She mirrored him in the way she handled herself, but more than that she was incredibly attractive. She had grace, kindness, he yearned for her the minute he laid eyes for her.

She would resist him, she was resisting him just as he had been her, but there was something there regardless of their mate bond. They had something unique, they were truly built as a pair. Both deadly, charismatic, stubborn and unruly. He had met his match in her, he would make her accept him, he decided it then. If he were to die soon he wanted to go out knowing her touch, her body and the depths of her mind. To him, the games had begun and she was his prize.

Shortly Reid and Apollo had joined the table, eager to cheer her on, and have a drink themselves. Ronan noticed a change in Reids demeanor, early he seemed lifeless, now his eyes help happiness, as if he was never stabbed in the heart by his mate. Mena's eyes found Reid quickly, joy spread on her face once she noticed the smile on his.

“Reeeid my friend, or uncle, I forget.” Mena hiccuped as she addressed the newcomer.

“Mena, we are so much more. We faced the afterlife together, for all of a few hours, but still, we did it, we defied death itself.” Reid seemed lucid, relaxed, not at all what a man who had lost his mate should appear.

“Tell me how are your anthora side effects faring, mine are irritating me to no end” Ronan noticed a glance from her in his direction.

“Wait, are you implying Moon hasnt told you either, she hasnt explained anything to you at all?” Reid asked in surprise.

“Moon often makes no sense, you know how she is. She is a romantic, sometimes it is dearly misplaced” She answered, her words almost completely merged together.

“Well I have just had a very interesting discussion with Lilith. I am afraid you have been misinformed, whatever you're feeling, it's not a side effect.” Reid advised her.

“Now is not the time to speak of such things Reid, the huntress is to focus on the task at hand or I am afraid I will be out of pocket.” Ronan knew where their conversation was heading and Mena was in no condition to discuss the matter reasonably.

Mena sat, a frown spread on her face before she clasped onto Reid's hands.

“I feel nothing, nothing at all.” she sighed with relief.

"Mena.” Ronan cautioned her, not wanting to go down the mate bond path until she was more coherent.

“Ronan.” she mocked as she reached for his drink, hers now empty. Her hand brushed his in the process. The electricity between them erupted, she gasped and quickly pulled back her hand, as if she had been burned.

Reid studied them, then he himself eyed Ronan narrowly with the realization of their bond.

“Now now Reid, we need not speak a word of it.” Ronan warned, he realized Mena was fragile in her drunken state, he also knew her to be unpredictable in any state.

“Yes we should not speak of such things Reid, mighty Ronan the destroyer has spoken. I am not agreeable enough for him. Ronan likes his woman easy and discardable, I, on the other hand, am not subdued by his oh so charming ways.” Mena's voice had become loud, belligerent, she was hurt, and she had every right to be. She must know what they are, that he has known the entire time, yet he had chosen to act as if it weren't so.

“Huntress you are distracted, and I will be down a few coins if you fail.” He murmured, softly as to subdue her, distract her from the topic.

“Yes, your losses in coin would of course take priority over my torment, after all nothing matters more than yourself." she spat with sarcasm.

“Torment? Please Mena do not act as though you have invited the idea of our situation with open arms. You cannot deny that you have been equally callous in your treatment of me. Now I suggest you focus, or have you forgotten, if you lose you will indeed have to preform any task I ask of you.” He raised a flirtatious eyebrow and noted her teeth bite down on her plump lip at his teasing, on any other woman he would see it as desire but with Mena, it could be numerous things.

“Fine, if you insist.” she replied with a high pitch and false smile, before chugging down the contents of her mug.

“If I may, I do believe, wait, no, Mena, where was I going with this?” A very drunk Scout spoke.

“Wait I know what I had intended to say. Might it be too bold if I said you are very agreeable.” Scout's words were slurred together more closely than Mena's.

Scout was right, she was everything Ronan had never wanted, until he met her. Now the fight he had put up to deny her had him drained both mentally and physically.

“Despite your attempts to charm me Scout, I shall still defeat you, for I am somewhat of a destroyer myself.” Mena countered.

“I don't, I am certain, charm, Ronan please I meant your lady no harm, it was only an observation.” Scout was losing this battle, he was faltering increasingly by the minute.

“No offense taken Scout, the huntress will tell you herself she is no lady, nor is she mine.” Ronan understood he was baiting a very intoxicated Mena, but he liked the bite he received from her.

“No, no that would be inconceivable. I am not at all a lady, especially not Ronans, he was the first to deny it after all. And just so I am understood, I would sooner fist fight every man here before I call myself anyone's. I am my own, although if we are being honest, as friends, I believe I would win the fist fight too.” Although he was hurt by her opinions on his view of her, he couldn't help but laugh at her words. She believed she could brawl his entire army and coming out victorious. She had gained more confidence in her drink.

Their eyes connected once more, and in response to his laughter he saw a smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Gods she was truly beautiful.

Mena and Scout banged their mugs together having had them refilled. Mena threw hers back with determination, Scout, on the other hand leaned back too far in trying to empty his own. Excitement stilled in the air as everyone around waited for the inevitable, the loud crashing sound of Scout's form falling from his chair had sealed the competition. He had lost, Mena had proven her point, she wouldn't be underestimated again.

“Well done Mena, I never once doubted you.” Reid gave her a pat on the back as she received her cheers from the men.

“It was nothing.” Mena shrugged as she tried to stand from her seat, she swayed as she stood. Although she had won her glory, it seemed she was not completely unscathed.

“Now good gentlemen I will retire for the evening, as tomorrow it appears I will need a lot of practice at being a lady if I am to seduce Max's men with my womanly ways.” she giggled lightly at herself, Ronan hung on her every word, every movement, as he always had, surely she knew that. He noticed her shaky steps, and it occurred to him quickly that she would never make it all the way upstairs.

He shifted from his chair, playfully winking at Reid before swiftly moving behind Mena, scooping her up in his arms and throwing her over his shoulder.

“Ronan put me down now, I demand it! I have just proven myself capable!” she screamed and kicked as the men laughed at her predicament.

“All you have proven is that you can out drink one of my men, not that you can walk after the fact. Stop struggling, I am doing you a kindness.” Ronan smiled as he took large strides, his whole body now alight with the current that flowed between them.

“You, kind? That is laughable, you are very funny.” Mena said as she still struggled under his grip.

“Apparently you have me all figured out huntress, so there is no need for more discussion.” He answered as he swung her door open, flinging her onto her bed.

Her room was like most of the warriors, much like his own. A twin bed, a washroom, a chair beside the window, a dresser with a mirror. Although he couldn't help but notice the contradicting items among her belongings. There was a bow, arrows, a sword, and even some armor lined against her wall.

Hanging to the side of them garments, feminine garments. Perfumes sat on the dresser, next to a bundle of flowers. Maybe there was a lady under the tough facade.

Her scent laid thick in the air, and left him holding his breath in resistance. As she attempted to sit upright in her bed his eyes roamed her body, she was a lady in every way. Her face delicate, pretty, her athletic body held perfectly sculpted breast. Her legs long, and lean under her trousers. She was undeniably a woman, an intoxicating one.

“What do you intend to do now?” she asked sleepily as her head sunk into her pillow.

“About what?” He asked confused.

“Me.” she sighed, her eyelids closing.

“I could ask the same of you.” He responded as he sat on her bed.

“You best kill me then.” She returned with a slight smile.

“And why would I do that?” he asked, unsure of where her inebriation was taking her.

“Before I am the death of you.” she breathed heavily on the brink of slumber.

A short laugh escaped him at her words. She obviously hadn't forgotten his confession at the h.

“But what a divine death it would be” he answered as he watched her drift into sleep.