Chapter 16

Elora’s POV

His lips.

I could still feel them even after I pulled away, my heart racing very fast. For a moment, I had given in to him, into a kiss that felt more real than anything I had ever known.

And that was the problem.

“No,” I whispered out, barely getting the words past my throat. I pulled away so fast I nearly fell, palms smacking his chest. Not to push him, but to keep myself steady.

“Dante... no. Please. We just...we can’t.”

His name sounded like a bruise in my mouth. “Elora...”

“No. Seriously, just...stop.” I cut him off. Breath punched out of me. My voice was scratchy, raw, like I had gargled gravel. “Don’t say it, not right now. Give me a minute, I need a minute.”

He just stared at me like he was searching my face for a map, but neither of us had directions. His face has no emotion.

But he let go.

And just like that, the warmth in his arms vanished. Leaving me exposed to the cold.

I turned around, skirts making a sound on the gravel. I ran. Let them talk, let the guards gossip behind their hands, Luna fleeing like something wild. I had to get away. I had to breathe properly, not just pretend I was okay.

Night wind slapped against me, harsh and stinging. It almost helped. The kiss lingered on my skin, in my bones, I could still feel his hands on my waist.

By the time I reached my bedroom, I had lost it. I slammed the door, leaned against it, clutching the painted wood like it might stop me from unraveling. Chest rising and falling, lips shaking, I pressed my palms together.

Did I want to forget? Not even a little.

And that scared me worse than anything else.

Dominic’s POV

The room was dark, except for the fire spitting shadows up the walls. I was planted on the edge of the bed, picking at my cuffs one-handed, head still spinning from everything.

The ball went fine, as much as those things ever do. Elora owned the room tonight. For a minute, I looked at her and thought, maybe this will work. Maybe I could be proud of this.

But, of course, pride never travels alone. There’s always something crawling underneath. Every single time Mira walked in, it didn’t matter what the reason was, my stomach just twisted up. Heart hammering like an idiot. It was ridiculous.

Tap on the door, softly, and then it’s swinging open before I even grunt. Mira. Of course. She moves like she’s floating, silent, sure of herself. Her eyes are wildfire, and she's mad.

“What are you doing here?” I said, like I’ve got control over anything. My voice goes low and rough. I still leaned in though, because I was apparently an idiot.

She just folded her arms and hissed, “Couldn’t stand out there watching anymore, Dom. You paraded her up there and called her your Luna, like it actually means something. Like I’m invisible.”

I sighed. “She is Luna. It’s politics. It’s what I have to do.”

She let out a sharp, ugly laugh, not even bothering to hide the hurt. “Politics? Since when have you cared about that stuff? What about us, huh? Or did you forget what we are?”

Oh, I remember. Way too well. The first time I caught her scent, I thought lightning might fry us both on the spot. The bond between us, how do you forget your soul being stitched to someone like that?

“I haven’t forgotten,” and my voice creaked in the firelight. “It’s just...it’s not simple.”

She came closer, and just that hand on my sleeve about torches the whole room. “You’re mine, Dominic,” she whispered, and it’s like a prayer and a curse in one breath. “I’m your mate. Not her. When you pretend, you rip both of us up.”

Yeah, I am split right up the middle. “Mira…”

Her anger shivered, softened. She tilts her head, eyes shimmering now, and if it doesn’t hurt to look at her. “If you can’t pick me, if you’re too much of a coward, maybe we should just break the bond.”

Just like that, my insides drop right out. Break the bond? Unthinkable. Like asking me to cut off my own hands.

No way. And the way she dropped it, she wasn’t joking around even a little.

It felt like someone stuffed rocks in my chest. Elora, my Luna, that shiny official title and all its baggage. Mira, my mate, who somehow hurt worse.

“You don’t love me,” she spat out, but her voice was all quivery, her makeup starting to streak. “You stand out there grinning at her, calling her Luna like you actually mean it. Meanwhile, me? I’m the embarrassing secret in the hallway.”

And suddenly, there’s a pain, stuck straight in my ribs, making it hard to stand up. I honestly dragged closing the door just so I didn’t have to meet her eyes right away. But when I turned around, she looked pissed, her eyes filled with hurt.

“Mira…” My voice barely made it, trying to sound soft. “Come on, you know that’s not true. I do love you.”

“Love? For real, Dom? Is this what love is supposed to be? You and her out there doing the royal parade routine, center stage, the whole fairy tale, while I’m sneaking around for scraps? If that counts as love, you can keep it. I’m done.” she said, her eyes laced with rage.

I tried to go to her, but she yanked back, face twisting like I’d slapped her.

“Elora’s my wife,” I choked out. I tried to sound all sturdy, but my voice cracked down in the middle. “My dad arranged the whole thing. I swore an oath. It wasn’t my call, Mira, it never was.”

She was heaving breaths, hands shaking, mascara totally wrecked. “Oh wow, what a hero. So obedient. Daddy’s favorite wolf. None of this disaster would’ve happened if you’d just given up the Alpha act for five minutes, you know?” She practically flung her hands at the ceiling, like she wanted to tear the roof off.

“Mira...” didn’t even recognize my own voice; it was so raw, but inside, I already felt shredded.

She cut me off fiercely, voice just splintering apart. “No. No, don’t...don’t give me sad eyes. That’s crap, Dominic. You could’ve walked. Could’ve ditched the title, burned the throne, let Dante have the throne. You never did. Power mattered more. Admit it.”

And that…wow. That one stung all the way to the bone. For a second I actually forgot what air was supposed to taste like. Just us and the miserable quiet pressing in.

Finally, I managed something. “You honestly think I signed up for this? That I want to be split down the middle every day? I love you, Mira. I never wanted a throne, never asked for Alpha. My father gave orders on his deathbed. Orders weren’t optional. Saying no would’ve ruined everything, would’ve turned me into the villain.”

That seemed to calm her down a little.

“So what am I to you?” she whispered. “Some ghost you remember when you’re lonely? Your dirty secret? The person you visit when you’re out of options?”

That just broke something in me completely. I reached out again, slower, like she might vanish. This time, she let me, eyes blazing but broken. I thumbed away a tear, she didn’t flinch.

“I don’t want you hidden away,” I told her, and it hurt...it hurt to say it. “You’re my mate. Fate picked you. But Elora..." and even saying her name made my throat catch. "...she’s my wife. She never picked any of this, either. She’s done nothing except survive it. She’s braver than I, honestly. I can’t just boot her into hell because fate decided to mess with us.”

She stared right through me, desperate and wild-eyed and drowning, all at once. “So now what?” she said, barely above a whisper.

I had nothing. Not a single answer. Just silence chewing on us both, making it impossible to breathe.

She took a ragged breath, all shaky, but something inside her just…clicked. Steeled up.

“Let me stay tonight.”

She wasn’t pleading, she was laying down a challenge. Like, don’t you dare turn me away. Her eyes did not move from mine, not one inch.

“I want to sleep in your bed tonight,” she breathed, and I swear I could feel the floor tilt.