Chapter 56

Dominic’s POV

Man, that morning dragged itself in like a hangover, sky all thick and sullen, clouds pressed down so hard it felt like the sun just gave up on us. Not like I slept anyway. Every time I closed my eyes, it was all over again. The flash of steel, Elora’s eyes gone wide, some idiot dead on the garden stones.

And that strip of silk...Mira’s silk. I could still feel it burning a hole right through my palm, even though I’d tucked it away like an addict hiding his stash. This was it, the thing I had been missing, blind as ever, while everything crept up and crashed down.

Weeks Mira spent wrapping me up in her poison, letting me doubt Luna, nearly tossing my own brother to the wolves. Last night, my silence nearly got Elora killed.

That was it.

Done.

By the time the elders adjourned their little council, I was practically vibrating out of my own skin. They kept sneaking glances, nervous little looks. I just shot back a look that said, “Don’t.” Marched out of there so hard my footfalls probably shook loose the old tapestries. My guards kept about three feet back, which was smart.

I headed straight down the hall to Mira's room.

Her door hung wide, beguiling and pathetic. She always pulled that boring routine. Two maids clucked at the doorway, whispering like hens. Saw me, froze. I barked, “Out.” They scattered like they’d seen a ghost.

The room was filled with roses and honey, sticky sweet, enough to choke me. Mira perched at her vanity, brushing that hair in slow motion, watching herself in the mirror like she thought she was the heroine in someone’s tragic opera. She gave me her best wide-eyed look. Too smooth, too innocent.

“Dominic,” she starts, in that breathy wounded-dove voice. “You weren’t with me last night, I'm worried…”

“Cut it.” Sharp as a knife. Couldn’t even recognize my own voice, barely holding it together.

Her painted smile cracked, just a hair. She set the brush down, pivoted with careful drama. “What’s happened?”

I stepped in and yanked the door shut, loud enough that the frame groaned. The air felt like it thickened, pressure from my anger pressing in.

“Where were you last night?” Flat, nothing nice.

She frowned, acting mystified. “Here, of course. Why this... interrogation?”

“Didn’t see anything weird, hear any commotion?” I pushed it.

“No… Should I have?” The performance was almost insulting now.

I crossed the room, boots sinking into carpets softer than most beds. “Elora got attacked. Right here, inside our gates. Rogue with a poisoned dagger.”

Her gasp was pitch-perfect. “No, Dominic, please. How?”

“Don’t.” I leaned in, heat close enough to sear. “Drop it. You know what I mean.”

Her eyes glossed with tears, just like that. “How could you think, after all this time?”

“Enough.” I slammed my hand down on the vanity. The crack in the wood rang between us. That got her, her mask actually slipped, eyes flashing fear.

I dropped that scrap of silk between us, like a secret weapon. “Recognize this? Tell me.”

And I’m watching, there, tiny, but real, the twitch in her jaw, that microsecond of panic.

She covers it fast with a laugh, airy and dismissive. “Seriously? Fabric? Half the castle wears silk. You would accuse me with a rag?”

“Don’t insult me. I know your stitching, Mira. This castle’s drowning in your patterns. I’ve been here, seen it, every curtain, every dress.”

Now, finally, her face gets sharp, something real showing for once. She stands up, chin high. “So, Elora’s finally poisoned you against me. All it took, huh?”

I flinched, because it stung. My hands clenched, nails digging in.

“No. Not Elora. You. Every time. It’s been your whisper in my ear, tearing me apart, turning me on everyone who matters.”

She surged forward, all desperation now. “You don’t get it! She’ll wreck you, Dominic. She’s already between you and your brother. She’ll unravel everything...”

I cut her off, almost yelling. “The only person tearing this place down is standing right in front of me. You.”

Her voice cracked, painfully real. “I did it for us.”

“There is no us.”

How those words came out, I don’t know. Brutal. She jerked back like I slapped her.

Her tears came for real now, voices splintering apart. “But you said...”

I shut my eyes. It felt like carrying a stone on my chest. “Yeah, maybe I did. But you twisted it. Turned it into a weapon. Played me until I almost destroyed everything...my brother, my Luna, the whole damn pack.”

“No!” Her scream sliced through the room, pretty composure gone, all those posh manners and sweet talk just… dust. “I gave you everything! I’d have carried your damn name, your brats, your whole stupid legacy! But she waltzes in and suddenly I’m garbage?”

Her voice broke, and the sobs hit, awkward and raw, like a broken engine failing to turn over. Her whole body shook, you could practically see her shattering. “I just wanted you to notice me, Dominic. Just once. Pick me instead.”

And for a second, I actually felt it. This ache, pity, something that almost made me want to reach for her. Then, the memory of Elora, pale as death, that knife glinting. My brain slammed the door in pity so fast I swear it echoed.

“You tried to kill her.” The words came out cold as arctic water. I didn’t raise my voice. I didn't need to. “There’s no coming back from that.”

Mira’s sobs twisted all sharp and ugly, went straight into laughter, but it was the kind that hurts your ears, like broken glass. “What now, Dominic? Gonna exile me? Slit my throat? You won’t. If I go down, everything you built crumbles right with me. Council listens to me, and the pack follows me. They'll back me before they even look at her.”

She took a step closer, fire in her eyes, defiant, almost daring me to react. “So what’s it gonna be, mighty Alpha? Your Luna, or your throne?”

Suddenly, I saw her. I mean, I truly saw her, not the scared girl clinging to my memory, not the maybe-love of my old fantasies. The viper beneath. Hissing, venomous, wrapped tight in ambition.

And just like that, my grief morphed into pure, ugly rage.

“You think my silence means I’m weak?” I said, and I barely recognized my own voice. Ice-cream. Nuclear calm. The kind people run from. “I’m my father’s heir. I’m Alpha. No snake eats at my table.”

She flinched. Not much, but enough. And there it was, real fear, not the act.

I turned. If I stayed much longer, I would do something stupid. I gripped my fists so tight they ached, fighting the urge to wrap them around her throat. Killing her? That would just crown her martyr queen, and I’d be the villain.

She would live. She would squirm. And I would shred her mask in front of everyone who ever doubted. Leave her naked in the spotlight, truth blinding.

And then...then I’d decide what she deserved.

At the doorway, I paused. Didn’t look back. “This is the last lie you’ll ever spill under my roof, Mira.”

I didn’t wait for her reply. Just left her there, her cries snapping after me like an angry snake missing its strike.