Chapter 48

Mira’s POV

The air was ice against my skin. Standing there, breathing slowly by that damn open window, eyes fixed on her...Elora. Gliding into Dante’s room like she owned it or something. I was supposed to be asleep, right? Curled up with Dominic, all safe and spoiled. Except, sleep took one look at the mess tonight and noped out the door. She hadn’t even realized I was listening, the idiot.

So I trailed her. Quiet, careful, heels not even cracking on the marble. Found her kneeling at Dante’s desk. Of course. Her hands were all over the letters I’d written, every word perfectly placed to ruin her. Yeah, Dante's betrayal, gift-wrapped by yours truly.

Can't lie, I grinned in the dark. Watching her try to piece it together, like stumbling through a maze I'd built just for her. She called herself Luna, thought she was some genius with secrets...please. She was just a puppet and I’d purposely left a couple breadcrumbs in those stupid papers. Not enough to give her proof, just enough to gnaw at her sanity. Suspicion’s a slow, rotten ache; I wanted her squirming.

She slipped away, fists empty, heart rattled. And that's when I finally remembered to breathe. She knew. Or, hell, she thought she did. Shoulders all stiff, eyes spitting fire.

Perfect.

Let her chew on that. Let her spiral, desperate, until Dominic’s got no choice but to see her for the wreck she is. At the end, he’ll turn to me. He won’t have anyone else left.

I slammed the window closed. Screw subtlety...I needed to move. The whole room choked me; walls, silence, even the shadows. This couldn’t wait another night.

Slipped my cloak off, just slung it, and set off straight to Dominic’s side. The guards out front did their weird little bow, not even daring to look at me proper. Smart, no sense getting in my way tonight.

Inside was all dim gold, the fire low, bed wide and empty but for the echoes. And Dominic? Just hunched over his desk looking about a hundred years old. Staring at something only he could see. That sight actually hurt, not that he'd ever believe it.

I put on a soft smile, fake as hell but I wore it well. Closed the door. “Dominic,” I whispered, all soft.

He looked up, eyes like winter. God, he used to look at me with something wild, at least. Now he just looked worn out.

“Mira. It’s late,” he said, nothing but flat lines in his voice.

Walked over all slow, let my robe slide down so he could see, yeah, real subtle, I know. Sheer nightdress, barely-there straps, everything picked out for moments like this. “So let me help you rest,” I breathed. Just above a whisper.

He turned away, started to protest. “Don’t need...”

“Yes, you do. You’re killing yourself trying to hold all this together, the pack, your brother stabbing you in the back, Elora playing her little games.” Squeezed his shoulders, kneaded the knots. “I can help, if you just let me.”

He tensed up. “Mira…”

Bent in close, lips right above his pulse. “Stop fighting me,” I said, my voice a secret against his skin. “I love you, you stubborn bastard. I always have. Let me prove it. Mark me tonight. Bind me for good. Hell, let the council choke on it. No one else gets between us.”

His silence was brutal. Just for a second, I thought maybe he’d cave. Hope lit me up, made me electric. Then? He jerked back. Shoved his chair, got up like my touch burned him.

“No,” he said, voice like he’d just ripped his own heart out.

I froze. I felt the word rip through me. No one ever said rejection didn’t sting.

“No?” My voice tore, sharp, on the edge of cracking.

He stared, jaw locked. “You know I can’t. Council’s watching. They see everything. If I mark you now..."

“Then it would shut them up!” I snapped, and there it was, all my careful composure dissolving before I could hoist it back up. “They wouldn’t even think of challenging you, not after that. You’d have me. Not halfway, not part-time. Fully. Isn’t that the deal? Isn’t that what you wanted when you put that ring on my finger?”

His silence shocked me, it hit harder than any slap. Bleak. Cold.

I edged closer, trying softer, more desperate. Maybe some part of me still hoped. “Don’t pretend we haven’t made something real out of this, Dom. All those promises, every night. Maybe you’re lying to yourself about it, but I’m not. And I won’t just hand it over to her. Don’t let Elora win this.”

His eyes? Total storm...anger, guilt, some guilty cocktail. It didn't matter. That answer? Still the same.

“Mira… not tonight.”

Ugh. Not tonight. The one refrain, over and over. Not now, not here, not any time I actually need you. It felt like claws curling in my palms, nails breaking skin, but I held it together, forced a brittle smile, ducked my head so he wouldn’t see all that mess fighting in my face.

“Yeah. Sure.” my voice cracked, all breath. “You’re exhausted. I get it.”

He just turned away. Like, just… left me standing there. Drifted off to the balcony like he couldn’t get away fast enough. Space, distance—he did that so well.

And honestly? Something in me finally snapped for good.

Fine. Since he wouldn’t make a real choice, I’d just make it for him.

Elora, she thought she was slick. Thought she could play mind games, scrape all my secrets off and claim what was mine. Big mistake. Dominic’s already mostly mine...she’s too late. Just needs a nudge. He’ll tip over.

I stared at his back as he gazed out at whatever emptiness called to him beyond those glass doors. The firelight lit him up like he was some hero in a painting. And all that pain twisted, curdled, turned mean.

He thinks he can walk away. He thinks he can be unsure.

Joke’s on him, I don’t lose. Not to her. Not to anyone.

He’ll be mine.

However, I have to make it happen.