Chapter 34

Elora’s POV

My hand still buzzed from the slap, my pulse slammed so hard it felt like it might knock me sideways. The maid scrambled out, white-knuckling her cheek, that tray clattering like her teeth would next. The door snapped shut. Just silence left, thick enough to choke on.

I turned, and Dominic was staring at me. Not pissed, which would have made sense, but something else, deep and unsettling, like he was finally tuning in after ignoring the static for months. He looked at me like I had just grown another head, or maybe just finally removed a mask.

“You didn’t need to...” He cut off, jaw working. For once, words failed him, and that alone was enough to make me blink.

“Yeah, I did.” My voice snapped out, sharper than a blade. Too late to reel that one back in. “She’d have scalded you with that tea. Too clumsy, unless she meant to be.”

Dominic scowled. “Wait...”

“What, you don’t get it?” I pressed my palm into the table, needing the pressure. “Somebody sent her. Mira’s fingerprints are all over this. You know as well as I do, she had set the place on fire if it meant keeping you. The way that poor girl was shaking? Wasn’t about tea stains, she was terrified of who’d find out she messed up.”

He went rigid, jaw tight. “Mira would never”...just silence. That felt loud. He stepped closer, eyes shadowed out and unreadable.

“Elora,” soft, like the name was some apology. “You shouldn’t have to fight this by yourself.”

I snorted. “Guess what? I do. I’m Luna on paper, not in anyone’s heart. Every sideways glance, every cut and rumor? All stuck to me. And you let it, Dominic. Don’t act surprised.”

For a second, I half-expected him to blow up, defend Mira, defend himself. Instead, this softness crept in. He reached out, his hand hesitated midair, then barely brushed mine. Warmth radiated up my arm. Might as well have been electricity. I hated how much I wanted it.

“I don’t want to let it keep happening,” his voice low, steady, for once. Dead serious. “I keep making excuses. For Mira. For myself. It stops here. I’m not letting you carry the pack while she tears at you from the shadows.”

My breath was stuck. His thumb swiped over my knuckles, and I swear, for a split second, I let myself lean in.

He kept going, quieter, “I choose you, Elora. Not because of some stupid council, or because you’re Luna by title. Because you earned it. More than she ever could. You’re my wife. My Luna. I should’ve claimed you long ago.”

My world spun. I had spent weeks building up a wall, telling myself he would never look past the surface. And now, here he was, hammer in hand, kicking it in.

“You mean…” My voice cracked. “You’ll mark me?”

His eyes were burning. “Yeah. I’ll mark you. Should’ve done it ages ago.”

I swallowed.

There was such a tangle inside my chest, wanting, dreading, hoping maybe too much. “And Mira? What, she’ll just take this lying down? You know she’ll go nuclear. We’re all dead.”

Shadows flickered in his expression. But then his spine straightened, and his voice, for once, sounded like an Alpha’s should. “Leave Mira to me. Not your problem. Never should’ve been.”

I studied him, half-convinced he’d backpedal, but there was nothing but determination. Weird little flicker of hope, dangerous, but there.

“Dominic…” I started. Didn’t make it far. He squeezed my hand, let go, and stepped away, like he was afraid he would change his mind if he stuck around.

“Try to get some sleep tonight,” he said, all gentle. “We’ll take this on. Together. I promise.”

Then he was gone, footsteps fading, and I was left standing there, heart playing hopscotch in my chest.

Next morning

Sunlight poured in through the windows, totally oblivious to last night’s mess. For the first time in what felt like forever, something in me felt lighter, like the ache in my chest was loosening its grip. Still sore, bruises still blooming like ugly little reminders, but inside, Dominic’s promise looping in my skull, sweet, terrifying.

Maybe things could shift at last. Maybe I could quit living in Mira’s shadow, actually step into the title everyone pretended I already held.

The maids came in to stuff me into some gauzy green dress, fussing with brushes and pins. Half the time my brain wasn’t even in the room, wandering ten steps ahead. Finally, they left, and I slipped out behind them, desperate for air, space, anything not wrapped up in wolf politics.

Outside, the gardens sprawled, dewy, green, stubbornly alive. Each step, I breathed in the cold morning, letting it remind me: hey, not broken yet.

Then I spotted him.

Dante.

He was way across the garden, standing all stiff, arms crossed, just staring out where the sky met the trees like he'd misplaced his entire life out there. Watching him messed me up more than I wanted to admit. The kind of ache you feel when you know something should be dead and buried but it keeps clawing back up anyway.

I hovered on the spot, then finally managed his name. “Dante.”

He turned around. Locked eyes with me. But, gone was that soft look that made everything easier. Just a wall. Stone-cold, like I was some annoying stranger.

I shuffled closer, slapped on a dumb little smile. “Wow, you’re up early. Did you even sleep, or…?”

“Enough,” he snapped. Like, full stop. No room for chitchat.

It stung way more than I wanted to show. But of course, I kept fumbling. “Council’s tomorrow. I figured maybe we could...?”

“Elora.” Flat as a pancake. “Don’t.”

I blinked. “Don’t what?”

Now he was really glaring, jaw so tight I thought he might crack a tooth. “Don’t pretend everything’s the same. You and Dominic, whatever went down, I know. The bond’s still there. I’m tired of pretending.”

Heart in a vice grip. I hated this. “Wait, Dante, it’s not...”

He turned away and shook his head. “I promised not to turn you away. But that doesn’t mean I’ll stand here letting you play me. You picked him. That’s your bed. Lie in it.”

Wow.

That one gutted me. I almost whispered it, couldn’t help myself: “Not fair,” as I chased after.

He just froze there, back to me, hands fisted up. When he finally spoke, there was zero warmth left. “Just… go back, Elora.”

And that was it. Didn’t even look at me again. Off he marched, leaving me stuck exactly where I stood, heart kind of imploding, like everything in the garden was suddenly made of lead.

I stayed planted way longer than I should’ve, soaking in how empty the whole place felt now. The sunlight didn’t help. Might as well have snowed.

Dominic made me all these promises, but...

Dante? He was already gone.