Chapter 17

Elora’s POV

The hallway was empty as only my footsteps could be heard, and the rhythm of my heart too. I kept telling myself, don’t expect anything, don’t be stupid. Still, some cracked-off piece of me was hoping Dominic would be there. Not because he cared. Please, the guy’s obsession with Mira is legendary. It was like something in him always snapped when Mira appeared.

The second I pushed the door open, it was like I forgot how to breathe as I stayed still for a moment.

And there’s Mira. Not just hanging around or pretending to tidy up. Nope. She’s curled up against Dominic like she's been there forever, her head on his chest, both of them so neatly slotted together, it made me want to puke. His arm draped around her, not too tight, just... possessive enough. Message received, loud and clear.

I didn’t move for a second. Every nerve in my body shouted betrayal, but I felt mostly nothing, like I had turned to stone.

Mira looked at me, a little smirk plastered on her face as if telling me she won.

“I’ll be sleeping here tonight, Elora,” she said, voice syrupy sweet, like someone had dared her to fake being kind. “You might want to grab another room.”

I just looked at Dominic, desperate for him to say anything. Tell me I matter, even half an ounce. But he barely even breathed. Didn’t pull away, didn’t blink. What was I expecting? She has him wrapped in her fingers.

I swallowed and sighed. I tried to keep my face together, turned away, and left. Or tried to. Not like I got very far.

Because, out in the hall, a shadow peeled off the wall. Dante. He just stood there, that classic jaw clench giving away he’d seen the whole ugly show.

I laughed, and wow, it sounded harsh coming out—like glass cracking. “Guess I should’ve figured, huh?”

Dante, cool as usual, side-eyes the room, then glances back. “You should expect more of it,” he says. No pity. Just blunt truth, like he refuses to pretty it up.

That stung worse coming from him. I tried laughing it off but I already knew he could see right through me. Such an asshole.

He moved a little closer, not close enough to make it weird, just enough to assure me that I wasn't alone in all of this. “Come on. I’ll find you a room.”

It shouldn’t have mattered so much. Did, though. It felt almost like kindness, which I guess I needed more than air right then.

He walked me down the corridor, steady, quiet, just… there. When we reached some cramped little guest room, he stayed in the doorway, like a guard dog who didn’t want to intrude.

“Get some sleep,” he said, voice softer. “Don’t let them win.”

It didn’t make the ache in my chest go away, but for what it’s worth, I nodded and went inside. Curled up, pulled the covers over my head as if I were scared of ghosts. And before I knew it, sleep finally came. No dreams, just a long, blank night's rest.

The next morning, the dining hall smelled like heaven, roast meat, fresh bread. That combo hit me right in the gut before I was even in the doorway. I walked in first, Dante shadowing me, all tense, like he was expecting someone to pull a knife out of the jam jar or something.

Mira had already gotten a spot next to Dominic, looking way too pleased with herself. She glanced up at me and gave me a smile that seemed way off. Was I imagining things or was she mocking me right in my husband's house? I don't care that she and Dominic are in love, I just don't like this attitude she is pulling off.

Everyone started picking at their food, not much chatter, just the sound of cutlery grating, awkward as hell. Subtlety wasn't Dante's thing. He dropped his fork with this dramatic clatter and stared Mira down hard.

“Stay away from Elora.”

Not a suggestion, more like a thunderclap. The whole room froze. Maids serving the dishes stared at him in fright, and guards turned their heads slightly. Mira blinked, turning on her best dramatic-sigh routine.

“Dante, honestly?” she crooned, hand going to her chest like a tragic actress. “Why would I ever hurt Elora? Last night was nothing, just me missing Dominic. Been away too long, you know how it is.” She layered her voice with syrup, but Dante practically looked through her.

Dominic shifted, awkward. He glanced from Dante to me and then just stared into the middle distance, like maybe if he focused hard enough, he’d disappear.

“Mira’s not trying to hurt anyone,” he said, way too evenly, not meeting my eyes for a second. “But yeah, I’m sorry, Elora. You shouldn’t have been booted from your own room. That was messed up.”

His apology just kind of sat there, dead on arrival, like he had regretted being found by me, but not sorry for his actions.

I forced myself to sit up straight, heart racing. “I’m fine,” I managed, keeping my voice calm. “Just, you know, let’s not make this a habit, people already gossip enough around here. We don’t need rumors about an Alpha with wandering hands.”

The silence after that? You could hear a pin drop. For half a second, Mira’s smile slipped, then back came her laugh, all airy and fake. Dominic retreated behind his plate, avoiding everyone like a pro.

I figured that was it. Tension still thick but, hey, at least breakfast could limp on.

Nope.

Suddenly, Mira jerked forward, hand clamped to her stomach, face screwed up in pain. “Oh...!” she gasped, doubling over, eyes welling up.

“Dominic, help...something’s wrong...” she said, her face going pale fast.