Chapter 124

Elora’s POV

When I opened my eyes, the air in the room shifted to something I couldn't quite put my fingers on. My head was pounding, I was thirsty, and for a second I honestly thought I was trapped in some fever dream. But there was that healer’s bowl, herbs still stinking up the place, and reality hit me.

Awesome. I’d fainted. Again. Just what everyone needed.

And, judging by the way whispers were leaking through the door, my little episode had kicked off more chaos in the pack.

Before I even tried to sit up, the door creaked open. First in was Dante, looking like hell. His eyes red, shirt unbuttoned, jaw clenched. Dominic was behind him, just standing in the frame, face unreadable.

“What happened?” I asked, mouth dry.

Silence.

Dante looked at Dominic, who clenched his jaw and stared at the floor.

I yanked myself upright, grabbing the sheets for balance. “Seriously, tell me.”

Dante finally broke the silence, his voice filled with anger. “You collapsed in the council meeting. I carried you here. The healer says you’re burning out, Elora. You need to actually rest for once.”

“I’m fine,” I blurted, pure autopilot, even though the walls were doing this fun spinning trick. “The pack...”

“The pack will live without you for a day!” Dante snapped, sharp enough to make me flinch.

He looked instantly guilty, saw it all over his face. But Dominic cut in before he could spit out an apology.

“You’re not helping, brother,” Dominic said, calm but there was bite in it.

Dante wheeled on him, voice rising fast. “You don’t get to decide what helps her! You don’t get to pretend you suddenly care. Where were you when she was doing all these on her own?”

“Dante.” My voice came out shaky.

He kept going, louder now, not listening to me at all. “You think I don’t notice you, Dominic? Suddenly back at her side, whispering in her ear, screwing with her head when she’s barely holding on...”

“That’s enough!” I yelled, way louder than I meant. The shout bounced around the room.

Everything just froze. We all stared at each other like three idiots, no one wanting to back down.

“You two almost killed each other over me, didn’t you?” I said, standing up even though I could barely see straight, but I forced myself upright.

Dante looked away, and Dominic’s eyes dropped. Their silence was answer enough.

“Do you guys even hear yourselves right now?” My voice shook as I spoke. “We just survived a war. We lost people, and you’re both here acting like jealous teenagers fighting over a trophy that isn’t even up for grabs.”

“Elora,” Dante started, stepping closer, voice soft, “you don’t get it...”

“No, you don’t get it!” I snapped back.

“Every time you fight, it rips me apart. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t just stand by and watch you bleed over me, not anymore.”

My hands shook, so I pressed them to my chest, trying to hold myself together.

Dominic edged forward, careful like I might break. “We’re not trying to hurt you, Elora.”

“Then quit it,” I whispered. “Please. Just stop.”

And then the tears slipped out. Not weakness, just...all of it finally spilling over. I hadn’t cried when we buried our dead, or when the pack burned. But standing here, between them, something snapped.

Tears rolled down my cheeks. “You think this is easy for me? Standing here, looking at both of you... Both of you who’ve saved me, fought for me, and I don’t even know what the hell my heart wants anymore.”

Dante reached for me, voice cracking. “Elora...”

I jerked away. “Don’t. Just... don’t touch me.”

Dominic’s face twisted, pain or regret or some mix of both.

“I never wanted to hurt either of you,” I whispered.

“But every stupid argument, every glare, every time you try to rip into each other, it hurts worse than anything Mira could’ve done.”

Silence dropped, heavy enough to choke on. Dante’s fists opened. Dominic’s shoulders slumped, and no one said a thing.

Finally, I looked at both of them... Dante first, then Dominic. “Don’t make me pick,” I said, tears blocking my throat.

Nothing. Neither of them spoke.

“Because if you do,” I whispered, “I’ll end up breaking whichever heart I don’t choose. And I can’t live with that.”

Dante took a step, stopped halfway. He looked pale, lost, his lips moving like he wanted to say something, but said nothing.

Dominic looked away, jaw clenched. I could hear his wolf pacing just under his skin, pissed.

“I need space,” I said, forcing the words out. “From both of you. Just... for a bit. I got to clear my head.”

Dante tried again, his voice a whisper, “Elora, you don’t have to...”

“Yeah, I do.”

I turned around before I could chicken out and see the hurt on their faces. My hands were shaking so bad I had to grab the bedpost just to stay upright. Behind me, I could hear them breathing.

Nobody moved.

Eventually, Dominic’s footsteps moved toward the door... slow, like he didn’t really want to go. He stopped, then Dante followed. Then the door clicked shut.

I slumped onto the bed, hand over my mouth to filter the sound. Tears hit me harder this time, wringing me out until my chest burned and my breath shook.

The truth was I loved both of them, and it was stupid.

But love was not supposed to feel like this... like I’m bleeding out from the inside, no matter what I do.

Lying there, staring at the ceiling through a blur of tears, a thought slipped through my head, maybe from my own messed-up heart, maybe from the goddess who apparently loves riddles.

You can’t chase two moons. One’s always gonna outshine the other.

I shut my eyes and whispered, “Then which one is it?”

There was no answer

Just the sound of my heart racing.