Chapter 43

Elora’s POV

He snarled, barely holding it together. “Why’re you so keen to save him, Elora? Is he your lover?”

I wasn’t expecting that curveball. “What?” Just that, mouth gaping.

“Don’t lie.” His hand clamped my wrist, not bruising but hot with all his ugly jealousy. “You run to him. You defend him. You give him some look you’ve never wasted on me. So, come on, have you just always belonged to him?”

Sometimes it feels like my inner wolf’s voice is louder than mine. She was ready to rip something apart. I kept myself steady, probably shaking like a leaf. “He is not my lover. He’s your freaking brother, Dominic. And if he ever was, if I ever was, you’d know, wouldn’t you? Because you basically gave us your blessing once! Remember the meeting? He’s got no shadows with his love, D. He never could.”

He just...he looked like he wanted to explode. When he let go, it was like I burned him. “Do not. Follow me.” Words sharp as knives. “If you do, Elora, you’re an accomplice. Don’t test me.”

That hit like a punch to the gut. Something buckled in me, but I stood there anyway, refusing to let him see me crumple. An accomplice. To him? My mate. The one who’s supposed to know my bones from my skin. Yeah, right.

Didn’t say a word after that. Just stood there, hugging myself in the ugly corridor, while he vanished into the darkness, leaving me with nothing but his threat echoing back. Good times.

Night came down hard over the palace. The whole place felt wrong, all the breathing sucked out of the halls, one giant held breath. I crept along, basket under my cloak, footsteps light as I could make them, eyes peeled for guards who might fancy playing the hero tonight.

The dungeon… let’s not sugarcoat it. It stank. Damp, old blood, and rusty iron. Like all the worst bits of the world mashed in one tight space. When I got to his cell, there he was, Dante, huddled small but somehow not broken, wrists red and raw, face a mess.

“Dante…” My voice barely made it through, cracked in half. I pressed myself to the bars, grabbed tight even though the chill nipped at my fingers. He lifted his head, slow and careful, but there was still some softness in his eyes just for me.

“Elora.” He sounded rough as sand, but the steadiness did something to me. “Why are you here? You need to get the hell out.”

I shook my head, pushing the food bundle through to him. “Brought something from the kitchens. Eat it. Don’t argue, just...please.”

He managed this crooked smile, bitter, like he’d just bitten into a lemon. “They’ll skin you alive if they catch you helping me.”

“Let them try,” I shot right back, voice small but defiant. My wolf was pacing that cage inside, howling for his pain to end. But what else could I do? I watched him eat in silence, every chew making me angrier at Dominic and the whole cursed mess.

As soon as he finished, I got closer, kept my voice low. “I’ll prove you innocent. I mean it. Cross my heart.”

“Elora...” The chains clinked as he tried to reach for me. “Don’t do something stupid. If Dominic’s got his doubts, even a tiny slip...”

I cut him off, tears stinging my eyes. “I’m not gonna stand by and let Mira win. She set this up, I know it. Saw it in her face when they hauled you off. But I don’t have proof. Not yet.”

He let out a curse, head thumping the bricks. “Then don’t say another word in the open. No proof? You accuse her, Dominic will turn on you so fast it’ll make your head spin.”

“Fine...I’ll dig up the dirt myself,” I spat. “I don’t care how much it costs me. I won’t let her tear you apart.”

He glanced up, eyes burning with pain. Thanks. Some weird, unspoken thread between us, the kind Dominic pretends doesn’t exist. He reached between the bars, fingertips grazing mine. “Forget about me,” he breathed. “Look after yourself.”

Yeah, right. Like I could. Every cell in my body knew he mattered more than air.

Trial day crawled in, all dramatic skies and high-strung nerves. The whole pack squeezed into the council chamber, jittery, hungry for gossip, hunting for any sign of blood.

Dante came in, wrists chained, but you would never know it from the way he glared, the man is stubborn. Sleep deprivation clung to him, but his chin stayed up. I took my spot with the council, heart going berserk, hands basically welded into fists. Dominic sat up front, all frost and judgment, face locked down tight. Mira stood at his side, dripping toxic grace, like a shadow with lipstick.

They paraded out the so-called evidence, waved their stupid fake letters like they were the word of God. The crowd muttered their doubts or, let’s be honest, their fears.

Couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“This is garbage!” I yelled, practically launching out of my seat. Every head swiveled. “You know Dante! You know he’d never betray his Alpha...his brother. Somebody wanted us to tear each other apart, and you’re falling for it!”

“Elora,” Dominic thundered, voice stern. His stare nearly flayed me alive. “Sit. Down.”

I shook, but glued my feet to the floor anyway. “You can’t do this. You can’t crucify him over forged crap...”

“ENOUGH.” His shout cracked the air. Several council members nearly jumped out of their skins. Even Dante looked spooked. Dominic looked one second from losing, jaw clenched, eyes feral. “One more word, Elora, and you’re next.”

Silence.

Tension so thick you could choke on it. Council squirming, Mira stared holes in the floor and, surprise, almost smirking.

I melted back into my chair, insides howling, wolf thrashing for escape. It hit me like cold water: Dominic wasn’t just clueless, he was gone, devoured by whatever poison Mira kept feeding him. If I couldn’t snap him out of it, Dante was doomed.