Chapter 21

Dante’s POV

Rumors flare through this palace like wildfire. Honestly, blink and you’ll miss three new scandals. By sunrise, half the staff was already whispering about the Alpha losing his cool with the Luna in the library. Supposedly, he had raised his voice; no one yelled in the library, and now, every maid was practically vibrating with the dirt, darting glances down the halls as they dusted. Like I couldn’t hear every word. Good try, ladies.

Dominic went after Elora. Let that sink in, it makes my stomach twist. My own brother, a guy who should know her grit and fire better than anyone, just let his anger fly at the one person who’s been hauling this pack on her back while he has been stuck under Mira’s spell. And now look? Elora’s moving through the place like a wraith. All business, no light. Her voice has shrunk to short orders and that laughter? Gone.

Saw her out on the training field later, hair pulled tight, stance all sharp corners and zero warmth. She watched those warriors like a hawk, correcting footing with a flick of her wrist and no softness at all. You could just tell, everyone obeyed, but there was this wall, something in her had snapped shut.

She let them off early, some excuse about checking the kitchens for the harvest thing. Like anyone buys that. She isn’t resting. She’s not eating, either. She’s throwing herself into duty, deeper and deeper, just to choke off whatever she’s actually feeling.

It hurts to watch.

I tracked her down eventually. Council chamber, naturally. Paper everywhere, the table a battlefield of ink and plans she absolutely shouldn’t be handling alone. Head bowed, hand moving like she could out-write the ache. I stepped in and she didn’t even look up, but come on, she always knows, it’s the air between us.

“Elora,” I tried, all quiet.

“Not now, Dante.” Without looking up, still just scribbling like none of this mattered.

But the steadiness was fake, and under it, all I heard was the tiredness. She was holding on to every shred she had left.

I took a few steps closer, my boots announcing me loud enough. “You’re pushing yourself too hard. You need a break, Elora.”

She just kept at it, snapped, “I’m fine,” and shoved another paper aside like maybe she would win this by sheer paperwork.

So I folded my arms and leaned in. “You’re not. You look exhausted.”

And that, finally, did something. She met my eyes, and they were rimmed red, not from crying, but from the kind of bone-deep strain that doesn’t even let you cry.

“Don’t,” she said, sharp as broken glass. “I don’t need your pity.”

I wasn’t here for pity. I was here because seeing her like this made me want to break something.

“Elora, I know about Dominic. I heard.”

She flinched. Not much, but enough. “The maids talk too much,” she muttered, almost like a joke but not quite.

“Yeah, maybe. But they weren’t wrong, were they?”

She finally let out this bitter laugh that made me ache.

“He blames me,” she spat, voice flat. “For everything. For Mira’s mess, for the damn rumors, for just existing maybe. And maybe he’s right. Maybe it’s all my fault.”

“Stop,” I snapped, harsher than I meant.

She jerked, surprised.

“Don’t say that again,” I said, jaw tight. “You’re the only reason this place hasn’t fallen apart. You’ve been holding it all together while he...” I shut my mouth before I crossed into proper treason.

But we both knew what I meant. While he picked Mira. While he let her bleed and burn alone.

She stared at me, something breaking wide open in her eyes for just half a second. Then she yanked all those walls back up and shook her head.

“You shouldn’t...You’re his brother,” she whispered, voice rough and small.

“And you’re...” I almost said it. My mate. Too much. Swallowed that down.

Instead, I just reached out and took the quill from her shaking hand. She didn’t fight me. Just watched, and I could see the war in her eyes...hit me or thank me, she couldn’t decide.

“You keep this up and you’ll smash yourself to pieces,” I said, way softer. “Nobody wins if you’re gone.”

Finally, finally, her shoulders dropped. First real sign she was unraveling. Could’ve gathered her up right then, hidden her away from all of it, the pack, the politics, Dominic’s rage. But I didn’t have the right. Not yet.

So I went for the only thing I could do.

“Come on,” I said, tilting my head for the door. “Walk with me. Just ten minutes. Get out of your own head.”

She glared like she would argue, but in the end, she just sagged and pushed the mess of papers away. “Fine. Ten minutes. Make them count.”

We drifted through the gardens, but it wasn’t about the scenery. Moonlight painted silver stripes on the stones. The air out here was way better. Not all heavy with duty and old echoes.

She didn’t say a word at first, just folded her arms across her chest. I figured, fine, let the quiet hang for a second.

Then, really low, she finally let something out.

“You wanna know what really hurts?” she whispered.

I met her eyes. “Tell me.”

She sucked in a shaky breath. “He didn’t even try to stand up for me.” Her voice snapped mid-sentence. “I thought after everything… I don't know, maybe he’d believe me, or at least hear me out. But no. Mira says a word and suddenly I’m a liar.”

Her fists balled up so tight, it probably hurt “ I hate that it gets to me. I swore I wouldn’t care. Supposed to be tougher than this, but I do. I care.”

I stopped, right there in the moonlit grass, making her look at me whether she wanted to or not. “Elora, screw what everyone says about being strong. You’re allowed to feel things. You’re not some damn marble statue.”

“I can’t, though,” she said, barely more than a breath. “If I come undone, what happens to the pack? That’s being Luna. That’s what it costs.”

I just shook my head, couldn’t believe she’d buy that crap. “That’s not Luna, Elora. That’s just you, always putting yourself last. Who’s actually got your back?”

She just stared, like she had never considered it. The silence almost hurt. I wish I could’ve unsaid it, because the tears nearly tipped over the edge.

I just reached out, brushed her hair out of her face. I couldn’t help it. Fingers grazing her cheek. She froze, sucked in a tiny gasp, and for a heartbeat the whole world felt... risky. Like if we fell forward, it’d change everything.

She pulled away. Quick, sharp. “Don’t, Dante. Please. I can’t go there.”

I stepped back, putting my hands deep in my pockets. “I’m not trying to take anything from you,” I blurted, heart hammering. “Just… don’t forget you’re not on your own in this. Even if it feels like it.”

She studied me, eyes all stormy and searching. Then, just one, clipped nod. The door slammed, feelings locked up.

“Thanks,” she murmured, then turned and walked off, vanishing into the moon-soaked dark. Left me where I was, chest full of something raw I can’t even label.