Chapter 32

Dominic's pov

Mira’s head jerked up, eyes suddenly blazing. “You don’t believe me?” The shout practically peeled the skin from my bones. “After everything? After being alone in this place, sick, hearing those whispers that I’m some kind of impostor...how can you look at me like I’m making it all up?”

“Mira,” I managed, holding up both hands. “No, no, that’s not...I just mean...”

“Oh, I get it.” She spat the words, eyes wet, each syllable practically a knife. “You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you? I’ve seen the way you look at her, like she’s some perfect treasure, like you weren’t pushed into this. You’re sticking up for her...her!...instead of me.”

That accusation cut deep. Denial bubbled up, but I caught it, just staring at her, broken and so, so angry.

“No,” I said. This time solid, almost biting it off. “No, Mira. I haven’t fallen for her. She’s my wife. That’s all. She’s Luna for the pack, and respects respect. But you...Mira...you’re my mate. No decree can change that.”

She started to settle, like a storm letting up. That fragile smile slipped through as she leaned in, her forehead pressed gently against mine. “Promise me, Dominic,” she whispered, barely a sound. “Promise that you’ll keep me safe from her. No matter what she says, no matter what garbage gets spread around...I need to know I’m still the one you choose.”

My hands balled up the edge of the blanket. I could hear the damn council, nagging, demanding proof that I’d marked Elora. I remembered how Elora just…stood there. Fierce, fearless, not needing me, not even wanting to.

But those thoughts? I shoved them aside. Mira was here. Mira was mine.

“I promise,” I told her, quiet as a prayer. “I’ll protect you. Always.”

Her breath came out shaky but softer, blooming into a tiny, victorious grin. “Good. That’s all I needed,” she mumbled, sinking into her pillow, the fear leaving her face in slow ripples.

I stood up, chest aching with something I couldn’t even name. Inside, that ugly little voice whispered: liar. You’re propping up a dream because the truth is too sharp. But I told it to shut up.

Just for tonight, I’d let it all slide.

Elora’s POV

“Hold still,” he murmured. “You’ll tear it open again if you keep moving.”

I forced myself to stay still, even though my body shivered when he touched me. “I’m not fidgeting.”

“You’re always nervous when I’m this close. You think I don’t notice?”

The air between us thickened. My throat tightened. “Dante...”

“No,” he cut me off. “I’m tired of this, Elora. I’m tired of pretending that being just friends with you is enough.”

“We’ve already had this talk,” I whispered.

“And nothing has changed,” he snapped, standing now. His shoulders were tense, his jaw clenched. “You sit there acting like I’m supposed to swallow my feelings because it’s convenient for everyone else. Because of Dominic. Because of this marriage, neither of you wanted it in the first place.”

I swallowed hard. “You know why,” I said calmly.

“Yes,” Dante growled, leaning closer, his hands on the table beside me. “Because you keep hiding behind the word marriage. A cage built by your father and mine. A duty Dominic barely cares about until it suits him. But me? I see you. I want you. And I’m done pretending otherwise.”

My pulse roared. His closeness was unbearable, a heat that clawed at the part of me that wanted to collapse into him. I steadied myself.

“You don’t understand,” I whispered. “He’s my husband. Your brother. If I let myself want you, I betray both of you. I...”

“Selfish.”

The word landed like a blow. I looked at him. His eyes burned, not with cruelty, but with fury.

“You’re selfish, Elora,” Dante said, his voice low but shaking with restrained anger. “You’re so busy protecting everyone else from the truth that you’re destroying yourself. You think by denying this bond, you’re being noble. But you’re not. You’re just lying to yourself. To me.”

“I’m not lying.”

“You are,” he said, stepping even closer. His scent washed over me. “Every time you look at me, I feel it. Every time your hand brushes mine, I know it. You want me, Elora. But you’d rather bury it under duty than admit it.”

I opened my mouth to argue, but nothing came out. My chest ached. I wanted to scream at him for saying the things I didn't want to think, and at the same time, I wanted to fall for him.

Dante’s hands curled into fists. His voice is calm, quieter now.. “If this bond is such a curse to you, then I’ll end it. I’ll accept your rejection. Right now. I’ll free you. Just say it, and I’ll let go.”

The words hit me like ice water, shocking, burning. My throat closed, breath shallow. He meant it. For the first time, I saw the resolve in his eyes, the unbearable pain of holding onto something he could never have, and the readiness to cut it away to save us both.

My lips parted, trembling. “You… you’d do that?”

“Yes.” His voice was steady. “Because I can’t keep tearing myself apart like this. Either you want me, or you don’t. But I won’t keep bleeding quietly at your side while you pretend you feel nothing.”

Silence

I thought of all the nights I spent alone in a cold bed while Dominic lay with Mira. I thought of how Dante was always there when I cried, when the pack whispered.

My brain flashes back to every cold, empty bed while Dominic snuck out. How Dante was always there, quiet, steady, talking me down when I thought I’d break. I never earned him, I know that much. But needing him? I never stopped. What a cosmic joke.