Chapter 36

Elora’s POV

I didn’t sleep. Not a wink. My nerves were shredded and putting myself to bed felt about as pointless as screaming into a hurricane. The night before the marking dragged out forever, as if someone had a knife pressed right up under my chin, and all I could do was wait.

My heart kept hammering out of my chest, straight down the corridor toward another name. Guess who? Dante. Of course.

Just thinking about it was dangerous, a little bit wild, and a whole lot of idiotic. But after the way he looked at me last time, the way his words practically caught fire, telling me he was done being just friends, and when he walked away, it nearly split me in two. No way could I handle this silent torture a second longer.

So, I got up. Didn’t need shoes, didn’t dare make a sound. I slipped through the halls, trying not to make the guards twitchy. Every footstep? The world’s most obvious drumbeat of betrayal. My brain was yelling, “Turn yourself around, Luna,” but my body had its own ideas.

There I was, hand over his door, pulse going nuts. I hovered a second, acting like that would help. One knock and I would blow up my whole life. What did I do, though? I pushed right in, because clearly I’m addicted to mistakes.

Inside, the place was dark, just slivers of moonlight here and there. Dante sat at the edge of his bed, and from the way his head hung, you would think I was a ghost he sensed before I even spoke.

“Elora.” There it was. Ice-cold, like he was trying to freeze me out. Nice try, but it just made me shiver harder.

“We need to talk,” I started, my throat tight.

He didn’t move. “Talk about what? You made your call.” The words sliced, quick, and no mercy.

Yeah, my heart twisted. I wanted to scream that I hadn’t chosen, not really. That every minute away from him was torture. But all that came out was, “Don’t do this, Dante. Don’t shut me out.”

He barked a low laugh. “If I don’t push you away, Elora, I’ll take you. I won’t be able to let go.” The way he said it sent sparks straight down my spine.

I just…stepped closer, like an idiot seeking out fire. “What if I don’t want you to?”

His eyes went dark, hungry, hurt, wild. “Don’t say that unless you mean it.”

I swallowed. “I mean it. Every damn word.”

That did it. One second, everything froze. Next, he was on me. His hands, his mouth, no pretty words, just actions, need, pure longing. He kissed me like he meant to erase all the empty space between us. I grabbed him right back, clutching him like I might actually break apart if I let go.

No titles, no Luna, no upstanding pack glories. Just us. For a sliver of a moment.

Of course, fate’s a spiteful jerk.

The door slammed open. As if I was cast a spell, my senses came back.

Dominic.

He stood there, eyes flicking between me and Dante. For a second or two, nobody said anything. Couldn’t. Then his voice came out, low and sharp. “What the hell is this?”

“Dominic...” I didn’t even get the words out. He had already grabbed my wrist, the grip somewhere between “trying to keep me safe and scattering everything in the room. He yanked me out, not looking back at his brother, not even a little, not even when Dante looked back, something wild and defiant in his eyes.

My heart thudded so hard I thought it would echo down the whole hall. Dominic didn’t slow down, just pulled me right back to our rooms and slammed the door shut.

I kind of thought I would walk in and Mira would be there, grinning like she had just won the lottery. Nope. The place was dead quiet.

“Where is she?” I snapped, grabbing for air like I might run out any second.

Dominic worked his jaw, eyes darting toward the door. “Gone. She went to her father’s house.”

My gut sank. “Why?”

He just shrugged, bitter. “Because she figured out she doesn't belong here anymore.” Not a shred of sadness, just cold and final.

Something inside me just...cracked. Maybe it was how he’d pulled me around like I was baggage. Or those eyes...so full of blame, he had been letting Mira run the show the whole time.

“You really wanna look at me like that?” My voice came out ugly, loud, out of control. “You let her sleep in your bed, Dominic. Your Luna, me, was left to rot alone. And you expect me to fight for what’s already mine?”

He tried to cut in, “Elora...”

But I just kept going. “Don’t you dare. You love talking about loyalty when it’s easy, but when shit gets real? All I got are your excuses. You let everyone mutter about Mira taking my place. While I’m the one bleeding from this pack.”

His hands curled into fists, his whole body tensed up. “I never wanted this to go this far,” he ground out.

“Oh? Then why didn’t you stop her?” My voice shook, tears stinging, but I didn’t care. “Why’d you let her strut around, play Alpha’s wife, flaunt it in my face? Do you have any clue what that did to me? Watching everyone laugh behind my back, treat me like dirt?”

He walked closer, and my heart was thundering, but I didn’t flinch.

“It wasn’t my fault,” he spat. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for this to get twisted. And you...” His voice cracked as he stabbed a finger at me. “You keep throwing Dante in my face. Like I stole something from you. You think this is what I wanted?”

“Yes!” I didn’t even care if I sounded crazy. “You sit there wearing a title that was never yours. You took the throne that belonged to Dante. He was supposed to be Alpha, and you fucking know it.”

Silence landed, thick as oil. Dominic’s face twisted up, all rage and guilt and something else ugly swimming around. His breathing was ragged, and something in his eyes, darker than anger, burned right through me.

I thought he might hit me. For a second, I almost dared him to do it. Maybe a bruise would hurt less than this thick, suffocating tension.

But he just spun away, voice shot to hell. “You don’t know a damn thing.”