Chapter 2 Echoes of the Past

(Dominic)

I left her room without looking back, though every step made my wolf snarl in protest. The taste of her lingered on my tongue, her scent clinging to my skin. My body was still excited from taking her—rough and raw, exactly as she deserved.

“Alpha.” My Beta James blocked my path, papers clutched to his chest. “The council requests—”

“Not now.”

“But sir, the border disputes—”

I grabbed his throat, slamming him against the wall. “What part of ‘not now’ escaped you?”

“S-sorry Alpha.” He scrambled away the moment I released him.

My study door splintered under my fist. Inside, I yanked the whiskey from its shelf, not bothering with a glass. The burn didn’t dull the memory of Penelope’s body molding perfectly to mine, her gasps of pain mixing with pleasure.

“Drinking alone?”

James leaned in the doorway, eyebrows raised at the broken door.

“Unless you brought actual problems to solve.” I drained the bottle.

“Multiple issues, actually.” He dropped a stack of papers on my desk. “The McAllister pack demands reparations for—”

“Denied.”

“They’ll protest—”

“Let them.” I ripped off my tie. “Next.”

“Your mother called. Again. She wants to discuss the Luna’s—”

The bottle shattered against the wall. “Get out.”

James hesitated. “She insisted—”

“I don’t care what she insisted,” I snarled viciously. “Everyone seems to forget who leads this pack.”

“No one forgets.” He stood his ground. “But Luna’s appearance beside you is traditional. The pack expects—”

I slammed my hands on the desk. “The pack can fuck their expectations. I won’t give more attention to that murderer’s daughter than necessary.”

“Penelope isn’t responsible for—”

“Careful.” The wolf rose in my eyes. “Very careful.”

He backed away, hands raised. “The trade agreements need signatures by morning.”

“Leave them.”

The door closed behind him. I prowled the room, skin too tight, mind clouded with unwanted thoughts. Penelope’s father killed Isabella. That fact should override everything—the mate bond, our marriage, my parents’ wishes, my own traitorous desires.

But my body remembered how she yielded, so sweet and responsive despite my cruelty. The mate bond between us never seemed to shut up, always demanding I return and claim her properly.

I hurled my desk chair across the room. The crash drew rushed footsteps.

“Having a tantrum?” Kelsey appeared, sliding through the broken door. Her dark curls caught my eyes—so like Isabella’s.

“Not in the mood, Kelsey.”

She ignored the warning, drifting closer. “You never are lately.” Her fingers traced my arm. “Too busy with your new mate?”

The word tasted like poison. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” She pressed against me. “Everyone knows you don’t want her. That you’re only following your parents’ wishes.”

“My reasons are none of your concern.” But I didn’t push her away.

“Aren’t they?” Her hand cupped my cheek. “I watched you love my sister. Watched that murderer’s daughter steal your future.”

Isabella’s memory rose in my mind, and the pain of it was still fresh. The way she laughed. How her eyes sparkled when she teased me. All the dreams we planned, destroyed by one man’s betrayal…

“He killed her,” I said shakily. “Robert destroyed everything.”

“And now his daughter shares your bed.” Kelsey’s thumb brushed my lip. “It must torture you, touching her. Knowing whose blood runs in her veins.”

My hands fisted in her hair—so similar to Isabella’s. The whiskey burnt in my throat, blurring past and present.

“Let me help you forget.” She rose on tiptoe, breathing warm against my mouth. “Just for tonight.”

I crushed our lips together, drowning in the feeling of her. She tasted like memories—bittersweet and addictive. No mate bond twisting my gut. No complicated feelings. Just pure, simple want.

She moaned as I lifted her onto my desk, papers scattering. Her legs wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer. Each kiss grew hungrier, more desperate.

“I hate seeing you with her,” she gasped. “It tortures me.”

“She means nothing,” I said, staring past her shoulder. Kelsey’s body felt wrong against mine. A poor imitation. “I need this release. That’s all.”

The scent was off. The curve of her neck, wrong. When I closed my eyes, I tried to see Isabella, but Kelsey’s voice—too high, too desperate—shattered the illusion.

I grabbed her hair tighter than necessary. Not the same. Never the same.

“You could be with me instead,” she whispered. “We could—”

“Shut up,” I growled. “Don’t talk.”

Every word from her mouth reminded me she wasn’t Isabella. Just her scheming sister playing dress-up in her clothes, her perfume. Using my grief to get what she wanted.

But I used her too. To forget. To punish Penelope.

My hands roamed her body, chasing echoes of the past. If I closed my eyes, maybe I could pretend…

Penelope’s mind link shattered the illusion. I could hear her praying in my thoughts from where she knelt in her bedroom, though it couldn’t have been intentional. Her scent betrayed her even from here—burning with pain and something darker.

I released Kelsey and made my way to Penelope’s room. I needed to have a word with her about sending me unprompted mindlinks.

“Still praying?” I spat contemptuously as I turned. “How predictable.”

She rose slowly from her knees beside her bed. For once, the sight didn’t make my heart race. Strange stillness oozed from her instead. Even her face was unnaturally calm.

“We need to talk,” she said steadily.

“About what?” I demanded. “Your pathetic attempts at seduction? Or perhaps your habit of spying on private moments?”

“About ending this,” she said clearly in the darkness. “I want to break our mate bond.”

I staggered back. It felt as if she had punched me in the gut, and my wolf reared up, fury exploding through my veins. Break the bond? The very suggestion was blasphemy.

“What did you say?” My voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. My wolf clawed to the surface, eyes burning gold.

She lifted her chin. “I want to break our bond.”

I stalked toward her, backing her against the wall. “After everything I’ve done for you?”

“Done for me?” Her laugh was brittle. “What have you done except use me? Hurt me?” Her voice softened. “I tried so hard to make you love me, Dominic.”

That word—love—hit me like a slap. “Love? You think you deserve love?”

“Everyone deserves love.” Her eyes glistened. “For five years, I’ve slept beside you. Carry your mark. Hope someday you'll see me, not my father’s sins.”

“Your father murdered the woman I loved!”

“And I’ve paid for it every day!” She pressed her palms against my chest, not pushing me away but connecting us. “I loved you despite your cruelty. Despite how you look through me. Despite knowing you fuck Kelsey while I wait in our bed.”

I knocked her hands away. “You’re a warm body, Penelope. A convenient hole. Nothing more.”

She flinched but didn’t back down. “Then let me go. If I mean nothing, breaking the bond shouldn’t matter.”

“You. Are. Mine.” I slammed my fists on either side of her head. “The bond makes you mine.”

“No,” she whispered, something changing in her eyes. Her hand pressed briefly against her stomach. “I’m more than your possession. I’m ending this—with or without your help.”

For the first time, I saw something in her I’d never noticed before. Strength. Will. A flash of something powerful in her blood.