Chapter 57

Mira’s POV

How dare he?

Those words Dominic hurled at me. The audacity just keeps swirling in my head, loud as hell. I can still hear his voice, all icy and sharp, slicing right through me. I mean, come on, I expected him to be pissed, maybe toss out a warning or two. But scold me? Like I’m some unruly kid or, worse, a maid who dropped a tray? Spare me.

My chest tightened up, I would say it burned, like every rib was packed with hot coals. Dominic, of all people. He was supposed to be mine. My Alpha, my constant, even back when he was stuck with Elora. I always figured his heart would come right back to me in the end. It’s what he did, taking care of me, choosing me in front of Elora, letting me believe I still mattered. Didn’t I?

And now? Now he looked at me like I was the damn issue. Like I had been the whole problem from the very start.

I clenched my hands into fists, nails digging so hard I knew they would leave behind scars. My wolf started getting twitchy, snarling behind my thoughts. He scolds me, and she gets to sit pretty beside him like some squeaky-clean Luna who wouldn’t know real power if it bit her. He never should have picked her.

I paced back and forth in my room like I was caged and needed to break free, skirts making noise with the breeze. This place, herbs, oils, all that is choking me. I looked at myself in the tall mirror, eyes puffy, lips shaking.

Disgusting.

I hated looking miserable.

That’s not me. I’m clever. I'm a wildfire in a smoky room.

And if Dominic’s too blind to see it? I’ll make sure he remembers. No, scratch that, I’ll make the whole bloody pack remember.

Elora’s perfect little life? I’ll smash it into powder. I’ll watch her world burn right to the ground, and when it does, when the council’s turned, when even Dominic’s brother bails on her? Watch. He’ll come back to me, crawling.

“Elora,” I spat, her name stinging my tongue. “You’re going to regret this.”

No more crying, not happening. My spine straightened. Game on. We're just getting started.

If she thinks she has outsmarted me, that my reign of terror is over, then she is in for a big surprise. I wouldn't just sit back and watch everything I've worked for become hers. She couldn't have the last laugh.

If there's someone who could make me angry, it's Elora. Why didn't she just stick with Dante? Why couldn't she reject this marriage and be with the man she has wanted and longed for all her life?

I know what to do.

Elora’s POV

The sound of forks and knives echoed around the hall, and it drove me nuts tonight. Usually, it’s background noise, nothing special, but now it just sounded annoying.

I sat at the long dining table, everything laid out so proper, roasted venison, spiced veggies, heavy silver goblets filled to the brim. Candlelight bounced off the wine, making everything look golden and warm. Everything felt warm and fuzzy. Yet, I was freezing on the inside.

Dante should’ve been here.

Thinking of him made my chest clenched up. Locked away in that cell, still stubborn as ever, even with actual chains on his skin. Every forkful I managed to swallow felt like chewing regret. The guards in the corner kept laughing, and each snicker landed like an insult.

I forced myself into a tiny smile when Dominic looked my way. He seemed… softer, maybe, tonight? Not hiding so much behind that serious face of his. He grabbed his wine cup, kept on staring at me.

“Elora.” His voice was quiet, almost as if he was whispering. “Are you… Are you alright?”

I just sat there, frozen like a deer...could he see it? Everything is boiling in my head. My heart was throbbing so hard and I wished I could be in two places at once.

I shoved my fork aside, I couldn't even pretend to be delicate, not with Mira drilling holes through my skull. "I'm fine," I spat, voice stern. I knew I was lying. I was far from fine.

Glanced up and there she was. Mira, looking at me like she had just bitten a lemon made of hatred. The girl had a stare that felt like a dagger with an attitude problem. She didn’t bother hiding it either. Lip curled, the tiniest smirk, like she was really hoping I'd crack in front of everyone.

My wolf growled inside me, but screwed her. I straightened up, chin high, even though every cell in my body screamed in anger. Whatever game she was playing, I wasn't giving her the satisfaction.

I wanted Dominic to open his eyes and see her for the viper she was. Cut her off, get her out of this pack for good. But he just sat there, blissfully oblivious, and I had to watch in full blown frustration.

So I stared right back. Venom for venom. My guts felt like a knot of snakes. But I had to pretend she didn't get to me.

Then, awkward silence. No one breathed. Then Dominic did that little cough, barely there, but something about it nagged at the edge of my brain.

He grabs his wine like he's trying to save face. Hand shakes. Glass hits the stone, red everywhere, like something out of a horror trailer.

“Dominic?” My chair screeched back. Heart’s threatening to punch through my ribs.

He’s coughing harder now, can't catch his breath, goes scarlet then ghost-pale. Eyes shot wide, fear, real fear, and I had never seen that on him before.

He grabs his chest.

He’s down.

Collapsed.

“Dominic!”

Chaos explodes. Chairs flying, people yelling. But me? All I can hear is my own stupid heartbeat, so freaking loud, and this chokehold panic locking up my lungs while Dominic just lies there.