Chapter 45

Elora’s POV

That dungeon chill just wouldn’t quit, like it wormed its way straight into my bones and set up camp, even after I had left Dante behind in the dark. My wolf whined with every step, practically begging me to turn around, run back, wedge myself against those damn iron bars, just to catch one more breath of him. But I forced myself to move forward. Heart heavy, throats hurting from all the sobs I was holding.

The hallways felt like they went on forever, torches flickering and stretching monster-shadows all over the stones. I was just about to walk around the corner, heading for Dante’s...well, his old chambers, the ones that used to smell like pine and woodsmoke, before suspicion stank up everything. That was when I spotted her.

Mira.

Strolling down the corridor like some evil queen, her dress trailing behind her like she was gliding on pure self-satisfaction. That smirk. It was like she was telling me she won and I lost.

Something inside me snapped.

I straightened up, squared my shoulders, and marched right in front of her path.

“Mira.” My voice came out way steadier, and colder than I actually felt. “Taking a victory lap, are we?”

She did this fake-innocent blink, but her eyes were all poison and sharp edges. “Elora. Shouldn’t you be comforting your… prisoner? Or did you come to beg Dominic for table scraps now that your big secret’s out?”

No way was I letting her get under my skin. “Keep dreaming. Whatever you’re up to, whatever stories you’re telling him, it’s not going to be for long. The truth always finds a way to crawl out of the dirt.”

She grinned wider, like a snake in lipstick. “And you really think I’m to blame for this mess? Wow, Luna, your paranoia’s getting old. Careful, or I might just let Dominic know you’re picking on me again. You know how fast he jumps to my defense when you start flinging wild accusations.”

My hands balled into fists at my sides. She wasn’t wrong, damn her. Right now, Dominic hated me enough to take her word over mine any day. If I pushed too hard, he would tear into me. Not her...never her, but me.

So, I stayed quiet.

That knocked her off-balance for a second and I saw it. She expected me to lose it, to scream, cry, maybe even scratch her face off. Instead, I just looked her dead in the eyes, cold as hell.

“Bask in it, Mira. This little empire of lies won’t last. And I’ll have front-row seats when it burns.”

I left her eating my silence, standing in that corridor like the world just shifted under her heels.

Dante’s room looked like a jail cell now. Locked up tight, two servants outside, acting like he was going to sprout fangs and tear through the walls. When I approached, nerves jittered all over their faces.

“My lady,” one squeaked, “the Alpha says nobody...”

“Do I look like nobody?” I snapped, letting Luna command rattle around in my voice even though I barely believed in it. “Last I checked, this is my pack, too. Want to be the ones who bar Luna from her own house?”

Their cheeks went from white to tomato in a heartbeat. They looked away and shuffled aside. The key made this nails-on-chalkboard noise in the lock, but whatever, I was in.

Inside, everything felt… wrong. The air went stale, like even the dust was lonely. I shouldn’t even be here without him. It felt like I was stealing a page from someone else’s diary. His cloak still hung on the peg, still holding that satisfying smell if you pressed your face in close. The bed was sharp and perfect, not a single wrinkle, like time froze right when they dragged him away.

Then, there on the desk by the window... those letters.

The so-called proof.

My hands shook as I picked them up. Parchment stiff, ink still bold. Names of elders, promises, whispers about a coup. One bad batch of gossip and Dante’s life would be over.

Except, the more I read, the more my stomach twisted up. The handwriting was weird. Sometimes way too neat, then suddenly a mess, like whoever wrote it kept forgetting they were faking. Signatures? Didn’t match the council’s usual scribbles, and I would know, being staring at those in meetings so boring I nearly chewed my own arm off. One seal was smudged, the next just missing. The wording? Not Dante. Too formal, not a hint of raw or real. Guy writes like he talks, spills emotion everywhere, no filter.

The point is, these letters weren’t his.

I crashed down into the nearest chair, heart pounding in my chest. Mira, everything screamed her name. The way she clung to Dominic’s side like a curse, the way these discoveries always led straight back to her. But evidence? Real, bulletproof proof? That…I didn’t have.

Without it, I’m just the desperate Luna trying to clear her lover’s name. To anyone else, it looks like bias. Weakness. And Dominic already decided I’m the villain.

I slammed my hands on the desk, knuckles turning white in pain. Eyes squeezed shut. Come on, Elora, get it together. Brain, do your thing.

Every little slip-up, every weird detail in Mira’s story, it was right there, loose threads tangled all around me. I just had to yank hard enough to unravel her whole web, clutch them tight enough to finally choke out her lies. Move too soon, though? She would spin it my way and bam, suddenly I’m the villain.

I blinked hard and squinted at the stacks of paper. My wolf wasn’t staying chill. She was pacing in my chest, teeth bared, all but salivating to rip these secrets out and toss ‘em in Mira’s smug face.

"I’ll find it," I muttered to nobody, just walls, dust motes, and ghosts for company. "I’ll prove this isn’t his. I’ll show the world who you really are, Mira."

Nothing but stillness answered, but I swear my spine got straighter anyway.

This? This wasn’t just about Dante anymore. Screw that. I was fighting for my own damn story, for Luna who wasn’t Mira’s little marionette.

And hell if I’d let her gag me again.

Sprawled out on the desk, those letters looked poisonous, like snakes waiting to strike. I bit my lip and stuffed them away, making sure everything looked untouched. Can’t have anyone sniffing around knowing I’d rifled through the evidence.

Out in the hallway, a couple servants stared at me like I had grown a second head. I threw my shoulders back and walked past them, acting like my heartbeat wasn’t hammering like mad.

Because I had seen the ugly truth showing through the cracks and weaknesses Mira prayed we’d ignore.

And once you spot the cracks? Well, it’s just a countdown until the whole mask shatters.