Chapter 122

Dante’s POV

I saw it coming. Way before it happened, honestly.

The way her hands kept twitching, the weird heaviness in her walk, that half-fake smile she kept throwing at everyone... yeah, it was all there. I should’ve stopped her, should’ve dragged her back to her room when she started looking ghostly. But nope, Dominic had to swoop in first. He’s always first these days.

And I let him. Because, I guess, some stupid part of me hoped she’d finally listen, just take a break for once.

So when she walked into the council hall later, looking like someone about to die. She was as pale as the moon. Her heartbeat was quick, frantic, too faint. She shouldn’t have even come here.

And then she just... dropped.

Time just... gone. Like someone hit pause on the world.

Nobody moved. The sound of her hitting the floor wasn’t loud, but I felt my heart beat louder. I didn’t even think about it as I was already running. Made it to her before anyone even said her name.

“Elora!”

She felt weightless in my arms, her head lolled to the side. Her pulse was barely there, fluttering like a damn bird about to die.

Then Dominic, voice sharp and panicked: “Move...”

“I’ve got her!” I snapped, holding her tighter. Everything else in the room faded into meaningless noise. I didn’t wait. I didn't care. Hauled her out, shoulder-checking the door open. “Get the healer... now!”

Dominic, for once, shut his mouth and ran.

I set her down on the bed, smoothed her sweaty hair off her face. She was burning up. The heat coming off her forehead made me want to puke. I tried her name again, softly this time.

“Elora… sweetheart, come on. Wake up.”

Nothing. Just her chest barely moving.

The healer showed up... an old lady, who has been patching us up since we were kids. She didn’t waste time. Herbs, muttered spells, something awful-smelling mixed into water.

Dominic ran back in, panting, his eyes wide.

“She’ll be fine,” the healer said, but her voice wasn't convincing. “Exhaustion. And something else. She’s drained. Mind, body, spirit. She needs rest. Real rest. No Luna stuff. No stress. If she keeps pushing…”

She trailed off. I didn't have to finish. We all knew.

When she packed up to leave, I just sat there at the edge of the bed. Couldn’t have moved if I’d wanted to.

Dominic stood by the door, arms crossed, jaw locked. I could feel him blaming me. Hell, I was blaming myself.

“She shouldn’t have been there,” I mumbled, voice all raw. “She wasn’t ready.”

“She wouldn’t listen,” Dominic shot back. “You know how she is.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t stuffed her head with all that duty and purpose crap, she wouldn’t feel like she’s gotta prove herself every second!”

Yeah, I was yelling now. I started pacing, fists tight. “She can’t carry all this alone, Dominic. You had to see she was falling apart.”

His eyes went hard. “And what were you doing, Dante? Lurking while she burned out? You’re her mate, not her jailer.”

Mate. That word stung. More than it should’ve.

I turned, heat boiling in my chest. “Don’t you dare tell me how to protect her. You think I don’t feel it? Every tremor of her pain, every second, through the bond?”

“Then maybe you should’ve done something!”

“I tried!”

My voice cracked. “You really think I don’t notice how she looks at you? How she’s tearing herself in half, trying to want what she’s supposed to want?”

Dominic froze. Breathing all ragged.

I kept going. “You mess her up, Dominic. Every time you’re around, she pulls away from me. She doesn’t even see it’s killing her, trying to keep both of us alive in her heart.”

He clenched his jaw. “So now all this is on me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, it is!”

He stepped closer, eyes blazing. “And you think tying her to your mate bond is making her stronger?”

Suddenly the room felt too small for the both of us.

I stared at him down, anger and helplessness in my chest. “That bond saved her more than once.”

“And now it’s suffocating her,” Dominic shot back. “You can’t lock up love, Dante. You can’t force her heart to just beat for you.”

“She’s mine,” I spat.

“She’s not a thing you own.”

Those words cut deep

For a second, all I could hear was Elora’s shaky breath. My hands were all over the place, shaking like I’d had too much coffee, and I barely managed to touch her fingers. Still too hot. Pulse barely there. I hated that.

I wanted to snap at Dominic again, tell him he was clueless. Except… he wasn’t. Not even close.

He’d always gotten Elora, picked up on the parts nobody else noticed. The stubborn streak, her weird kindness, the soft bits under all that steel. And, honestly, that’s what was messing me up, because now, it was that understanding that was tearing us apart.

He stepped closer, voice going almost soft. “Look at her, Dante. Just… look. This is destroying her. It’s killing us.”

So, yeah, I looked. I didn't want to, but I did. And it felt like someone reached in and twisted everything inside me.

She looked tiny. Breakable. This was the same Luna who’d once stared down an entire regiment and didn’t flinch? Now she could barely twitch a finger.

I just cracked.

I dropped into the chair, head in my hands, elbows digging into my knees. “I can’t lose her,” I muttered.

Dominic stayed silent for a long time, then finally said, “Neither can I.”

That just… yeah, that broke me all over again.

And the worst part? He meant it. I hated that, hated him for it, but it was true.

We both loved her. And she was slipping away, and we couldn’t do anything.

The healer came back in later with some weird-smelling mash of roots and herbs. Gave us strict orders... Elora needed deep sleep, days of it. “If she gets worse,” she added, looking at us, “it’s not her body. It’s her spirit. Only a true bond can fix that.”

And then she left, leaving us in silence.

I stayed glued to Elora’s side, clutching her hand. Dominic stayed by the door, frozen, like he wanted to run but couldn’t. The bond between me and Elora barely flickered.

So I leaned in and whispered, “I’m here, Elora. I’m not going anywhere.”

Her hand jerked, just a bit. Not enough to wake her. Just enough to tell me she was still fighting.

When I looked up, Dominic was staring at me. Not anger. He looked… sorry. And he understood. That hurt more than anything else.

We didn’t say another word that night. We just sat there, scared, watching her breathe.

Then Dominic, never one to keep his mouth shut for long, growls from the corner, voice rumbling like distant thunder, “And you really think tying her to your mate bond makes her stronger?”