Chapter 31

Dominic’s POV

The council chamber kind of shrank around me, despite those ridiculous high ceilings and all that old stone shouting its ancient importance. My father’s throne loomed behind... it practically hovered. Always lurking, reminding me just how screwed I’d be if I messed up.

But today, it wasn’t the damn chair weighing me down. It was those voices, those sharp old eyes on me, slicing tiny wounds with every look and whisper.

“This is unacceptable,” boomed Faelan, palms gripping the long table so hard I thought it’d splinter. “The Luna walks among the pack, unmarked, untethered. It’s chaos. Makes us look weak. Makes you look weak.”

I kept my face still, zero reaction, but inside my stomach was doing Olympic-level flips. Of course, I knew this was coming. Didn’t imagine it’d be so soon.

“She does her duties, and better than most we’ve had,” Orla piped up, voice careful but not, you know, wimpy. “She’s earned real respect.”

“Pfft, respect’s not enough,” snapped Merek, sharp as broken glass. “Where’s the proof, Alpha? What makes them sure she’s chosen by the actual Moon for you?” His stare could bore holes in stone. “No mark, no real claim. It’s just your late dad’s word forced down our throats.”

My jaw clenched so hard my molars probably left dents. Merek’s words, they just dug around in wounds I didn’t want touched. Elora, always steady, always stronger than she got credit for. She damn well earned their trust, but apparently, that wasn’t cutting it.

“She is my Luna,” I managed, trying not to sound as gutted as I felt.

Cue the Elder Shuffle, the sideways glances, all doubt, and featherlight suspicion.

“Then mark her,” Faelan said, low and final, like he was dropping a boulder on the table. “Stop waffling. Show them you mean it.”

Yeah, easy for him to say. Silence thickened, choking. Because, hell, I was wavering, though gods know it wasn’t a straight-up refusal. There was a thing in my chest I couldn’t name, and it clawed at me.

Out of nowhere, Mira’s face crashed into my brain, her red-rimmed eyes, soft pleas, the way she sounded when she asked if I still loved her. I did. Of course I did.

I dug my nails into my palm under the table. Don’t flinch. Don’t crack.

Merek’s eyes narrowed, catching my hesitation. “Unless,” he drawled, “someone else stands in the way. Someone who stays in your bedchamber like she’s Luna herself.” His meaning hit like a punch to the ribs. “The pack talks, you know. Maybe Mira deserves the mark, since Elora can't seem to get it.”

The chamber just exploded...some elders hissing back, others not exactly rejecting the idea.

“Ridiculous!” Orla barked. “Elora is Luna, by will of the late Alpha, by the goddess herself!”

“Then mark her, and stop making us look unsure,” Faelan cut in, not even letting Orla finish.

The words rained down and just hammered away until I felt skinless. I thought of Elora, how she never flinched, never asked for any of this. Just took her blows quietly, head held stupidly high through it all. She never begged, never blamed, even when I split my heart right down the middle.

And Mira… gods, Mira...whatever bond survives, it won’t let me breathe easy.

Two women, one curse. One bloody throne.

“I’m not discussing this,” I said, voice flat, cold, nothing left. “Elora is Luna. End of story.”

Except, I’d have liked it to feel that certain inside.

Council muttered. I caught fragments. He’ll never be loyal. He loves someone else. Luna deserves better. It scraped at every raw edge I had left.

I stood up, tossed a lazy, dismissive wave. Meeting’s over. The elders bowed, but their eyes clung to me like sticky burrs.

Out in the corridor, I felt like my chest was just ash and embers. Still had that Alpha mask strapped tight, couldn’t let the storm show.

Mark her. Or lose her.

I shoved open my chamber door, not expecting anything. But there was Mira, already sitting up in my bed, all hair brushed and those damn night robes, like she hadn’t just spent the night sobbing herself raw. Looks can really mess with you.

The way her eyes lit up when she saw me got me right in the gut. “Dominic.” Her voice was barely more than a shaky breath, small and scared. I’d heard that tone before, and every time it made me want to wrap her up, hide her from the world.

Shutting the door behind me, I tried...tried!...to steady my brain, which honestly felt like a blender set to max. “Hey. You really ought to be resting.”

She shook her head, knuckles going white around the blanket. “Couldn’t sleep,” she murmured, the words clinging to her lips like she thought they might shatter. “Been… scared.”

That made me frown. “Scared of what?”

Her eyes hit the sheets, lashes all shadowy and fragile. Then she peeked up at me, looking like somebody had just kicked her puppy. “Her,” she said.

And I stiffened. “Mira...”

“She hates me,” Mira cut in, voice just cracking apart, clutching at her chest like she could hold her heart together if she tried hard enough. “You can see it, right? Every time she walks in here, it’s like I’m something on the bottom of her shoe. She doesn’t want me here with you. She doesn’t even want me in this room. And when she slapped me...” Her voice turned to glass, all sharp and breakable. “I was scared, Dominic. What if next time she does something worse?”

My breath came out rough, and I found myself edging closer, probably against my better judgment. My stomach twisted, not because I thought she was right, but because I just wanted to believe her. If only it all fit.

I crouched down by the bed, squinting, searching her face for something...truth, maybe, or just a sign I could trust myself. “Mira, are you...Are you sure she slapped you?” My words trailed off, so weak I barely caught them myself. It just didn’t track. Elora wasn’t like that… was she?