Chapter 25

Dominic's POV

The throne room was dead quiet. Just a couple of guards by the doors, standing ramrod straight. Still had that weird smell, old parchment mixed with candle wax from the council.

“Where’s the Luna?” I asked, voice flat.

One of the guards shifted, clearly not wanting to be the messenger of bad news. “She left the palace, Alpha. With Beta Dante.”

That did it...a gut punch. Kept my face chill though. “Where?”

“Wine shop in the city. She said she was restocking the cellars.”

Wine.

Of course. I could picture it perfectly. Elora and Dante were weaving through the city, acting like they owned the place. My Luna. My wife. And, wouldn’t you know, my brother.

That stung.

I told them to get the horses. I practically flew through those streets, cloak flapping like some storybook villain hot on the trail. It didn’t take long.

Through the wine shop’s front window, I spotted them. Elora, golden light spilling all over her like some blessing. Holding a glass, looking relaxed. Dante? Way too close. Stance all wrong, leaning in, hanging on every word.

No kissing. No hands. No rules technically broken.

But the energy? It was there, sizzling. Like the moment before a storm, when the pressure hits your skin. You just know.

My stomach twisted. Jealousy. Tasted like copper and regret.

I pushed inside. The little bell jingled, and suddenly, both of them noticed me. Elora’s eyes went wide with surprise, then calculation. Dante stiffened, like he was bracing for a punch.

“Dominic,” she said, voice smooth and careful, like that would help. “We were just restocking the cellar.”

“Yeah. I see that.” I glanced from her glass to Dante’s stupidly protective stance. He had thrown himself in front of her, no question, if I so much as raised my voice.

A shopkeeper popped out trying to please, but I barely glanced at him. All I could see was her. And Dante.

Something cracked in my chest. All those years of taking Elora as a baby sister died. That sizing up Mira like she was everything, that whole “mate is sacred” spiel? I bought into it because it was easier than admitting I wanted someone I was never really supposed to have.

But seeing Elora next to Dante, laughing just a little, hair glowing in the light? That did it. Truth hit so hard I nearly said it aloud.

I admired her.

The realization was suffocating. Paralysing, honestly, because I had already handed her to someone else.

My voice, all rough and way lower than I meant, came out. “Cellar can wait. You’re both coming back. Now.”

Elora paused, trying to read me, but she didn’t argue. Just set the glass down and nod.

Dante locked eyes. No fear. Just, try me.

That was the real war, not with enemies, not with politics, just with each other, right down to the bone.

We rode back, no one speaking. Elora even with me, Dante a shadow behind us. Space between tight as a wound.

Inside the gates, she slid off her horse, robe swirling around her like a damn movie star. She looked at me for a heartbeat, searching, but I wasn’t about to give anything away.

Inside, though? I was on fire.

Burning with love for someone I couldn’t claim, jealousy I wasn’t supposed to feel, and the realization that fooling myself is apparently my one true talent.

Elora’s pov

The carriage ride home? You could have cut the tension with a corkscrew. Piled high with ancient barrels and a million things not being said. And then Dante, always the comedian, cracks a little grin. “You know people can deliver this stuff, right? You didn’t need to come.”

I spun, almost fell out of my seat. “It would've been nice if you’d mentioned that before I broke my back.”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Maybe I just wanted a little extra Elora time. Sue me.”

I couldn't help myself...I had to laugh. “God, you’re relentless.”

He shot back instantly, all swagger. “Nah. Just dedicated.”

The next week was completely off-script. Dominic started acting weird. Not bad, just… different. He was everywhere, walking next to me in the gardens, always managing to sit beside me at meals, and standing up for me in front of the council. Yeah, the mighty Alpha, making it clear whose side he’s on.

For everyone else, it was this feel-good royal drama. For me, though? It was like stepping into someone else’s life. He suddenly felt so close it left my head spinning, this new friendly Dominic making me ache in places I didn't know I could ache. I wanted to buy into it, believing maybe the universe had flipped the script.

But every time I asked him what he was doing, what this all meant, his answer never changed. Polite. Sweet. Unmovable as granite.

“You’re like a sister to me, Elora.”

That stung.

*********

Mira was barely sitting up, her face pale against the pillows, hair a total mess, like she had poured black paint across the sheets. She glanced over slowly, lashes blinking in that way people do when they want you to think they are frail. The breakfast tray? Not even touched. The fruit was already getting that weird brown tinge.

“You really haven’t eaten,” I muttered, dragging the chair closer and just plopping down beside her.

“Not hungry.” She sounded all fragile, but there was something to it, like she was just waiting for me to say something so she could snap.

I reached for her hand anyway, running my thumb over her knuckles. “Mira. Listen...whatever crap went down, whatever you did…” God, my throat pretty much closed up but what was I supposed to do, not say it? “I forgive you.”

Her eyes got all shiny and her mouth did that trembling thing people do when they want to talk themselves out of crying. “Even after I…? Dominic, I don’t deserve...”

“Stop. Don't.” I cut her off, this time not holding back. “I love you, okay? That stuff, what the pack says, the villain thing, they don’t matter. You’re mine.”

She broke down, forehead pressing into my hand, tears just soaking my skin. I let her. Let her squeeze tight, like she thought I'd disappear if she let go.

Eventually, her breathing calmed and I yanked the blankets higher like maybe I could cocoon her away from it all. “Get some sleep. Worrying’s not gonna fix anything.”

She mumbled something, probably thanks or whatever, and drifted off, still holding me like an anchor. I had to pry my hand out one finger at a time, real gentle, and lay it back under the covers. Then I left.