Chapter 40

Dante’s POV

Have you ever smelled rain before it even thinks about falling? That static, sharp tang sticking to the back of your throat? Yeah. That’s how the whole palace felt lately, storm tension, thick enough to choke on. Especially around Dominic.

He watched me like I was a bad itch he couldn’t scratch. Elora barely blinked in my general direction and there he was, clinging to her hand like she might break if I breathed too close. Always another job, another reason to shove me out: patrolling, hauling supplies, anything that kept me busy and as far from her as possible.

He honestly must have thought I was clueless. Like I didn’t notice the way jealousy twisted him up from the inside out. The edge in his voice when he so much as spat out my name? Subtle as a sledgehammer.

Too bad for him, I’m not blind. Or stupid.

And I would die before I let Elora get caught in his crossfire.

So this particular morning, I stumbled back from another one of his urgent border runs. There’s still half the southern mud glued to my boots, my shoulders feel like concrete, and I’m doing my absolute best impression of someone who isn’t about to topple over in sheer exhaustion. Elora was waiting in the courtyard, hands fidgety, worry stamped across her pretty face like it’s permanent.

She came at me fast, eyes sharp, her voice nearly a whisper. “Dante, you have to stop letting him do this. He’s running you into the ground.”

I gave her this half-assed grin and grazed her arm with my knuckles, just for a second. “I’ll survive. Always do.”

She looked like she wanted to slap me and hug me at the same time. “That’s not the point. He’s punishing you. Because of me.”

I wanted to tell her she was wrong. Lie to her face, maybe. But then, boom, Dominic’s silhouette at the top of the palace stairs, Mira drifting behind him like a leftover nightmare. His gaze could freeze water.

“Dante.” He didn't yell, didn't have to. More like he was ordering the ground to swallow me whole. “My study. Now.”

Elora stiffened, but I squeezed her wrist. Calm down, I’m saying, except my heart was pounding.

Inside, the study is this cave filled with burnt wood and pent-up anger. Dominic hunched behind his desk like he owned gravity. He doesn’t even look up.

“You disobeyed me.” Voice like a knife, straight to the gut.

I set my jaw. “By returning home, seriously?”

“You were supposed to stay at the southern line until nightfall.” His glare could melt steel. “But here you are. Talking to her.”

Wow.

“Her?” I scoff. “She’s not just some job, Dominic. She’s your Luna, not a pawn that Mira moves around when she gets bored.”

That got his attention. He finally looks at me. “Careful, Dante.”

“You need to be careful,” I snapped, closing the gap. “You’re so tangled up in Mira’s bullshit you can’t see you’re tearing apart everything, Elora, the pack, just to keep your head above water.”

He whacks his fist down, shaking the desk. “Don’t say her name like that.”

“Why not?” My voice climbs, adrenaline rushing. “Because it guts you when she looks for me instead of you?”

Silence.

He was panting, I was shaking, but under it all, the mess, the rage, there’s the truth.

“You’re jealous,” I said.

For a split second, his mask slips. He looked hurt. “Jealous? Of a bond that shouldn’t exist?” He stalks forward. “Don’t kid yourself, brother. She may want you, but she’s mine. By oath. That’s how it works.”

“Then mark her,” I spit back. “If she means more than duty, prove it. Otherwise, stop this charade.”

He falters. His mouth tightens, eyes slamming shut.

And then, just when I thought he was going to lunge at me or start reciting rules again, he said quietly. “I will never mark her. Because she isn’t the one I love.”

Time basically stops. My heart slams around, and I forget what words are supposed to sound like.

“You...you don’t love her?” My voice breaks on it.

He just shakes his head. “No.”

The air gets thick, storm-pressure building. Years of brotherhood flex and threaten to shatter.

I stepped closer, everything softening. “Then let her go, Dominic. You can’t chain her to you just because you’re scared or Mira told you to. If you won’t love her, at least let her choose.”

He refused to meet my eyes. That was enough of an answer.

My fists bunch up, fighting the urge to swing at him is the hardest thing. But we both know, if I throw the first punch, the pack will split right down the middle.

So, instead, I kept my hands at my sides, and I said the promise I’ve been carrying around like a second heartbeat.

“I’m not leaving her undefended, Dominic. You, Mira, the rest of this mate-marking mess, you’ll have to pry me off her.”

He looks ready to eat nails. “Then we’re not brothers anymore.”

That one lands. Deep.

But I don’t look away. I sure as hell don’t back off.

When I stepped out of his study, there was Elora just standing there, eyes darting between us like she was hoping for some sign, some spark of hope, or, hell, just a straight answer. Pain shot through my chest as I brushed past her. Still, the warning tumbled out. I couldn't help myself.

“Watch yourself, Elora. He’s not the guy you remember. Not anymore.”

Fear and confusion were plastered on her face, big, sad eyes staring right through me. Did I stay to clear things up? Not a chance. If I started explaining, I would cave, and neither of us needed that weakness.

First time in my life, I’ll admit it...I hated my brother. I really hated him.

She already knew more than I had ever wanted for her, so what was the point in trying to protect her?

“Elora,” I muttered, softer now, softer than I liked, “don’t let his crap wreck you.”

She opened her mouth but nothing came out, just silence and that raw hurt Dominic left bleeding under the surface. She tried to pull herself together, that Luna ice queen vibe, but I wasn’t fooled for a second.

I leaned in, voice dropping, meant for her ears alone. “You think this is it, huh? Like, if he doesn’t claim you, you’re done here.”

That anxious swallow of hers. “Isn’t it?”