Chapter 59

Elora’s POV

The first time my ass hit Dominic’s chair, I swear I almost bolted right back up.

That carved monstrosity of a throne, cold as a corpse, high-backed like it wanted to swallow me up, wasn’t mine. That was supposed to be Dominic’s. Maybe even Dante’s if you wanna get technical. All that ancestral oak, stained with old blood and centuries of sweat? And yet, here I was, plopped right in the center of it like some kind of fraud.

No Dominic, no Dante, just, well... me.

The chamber felt two miles too big. Banners everywhere, our crest sagging like everyone’s faith in me was just as limp. All those eyes on me from crusty elders to half-feral warriors. The room hummed with their tension. Like they were waiting to watch me trip over my own feet.

Swallowed the urge to gag, squared my shoulders, and faked the hell out of confidence.

No way I could afford a meltdown. Not while Dominic was upstairs barely clinging to life. Not with Mira, that venomous viper, hissing rumors in the shadows. Not with rogues biting at our heels, getting cockier by the day.

So yeah. I was Luna. And whether anyone liked it or not, that put me on the Alpha’s throne.

“Luna,” Rowan drawled, careful like he was poking a bear. His respect was about as thin as watered-down soup. “We thank you for handling Alpha duties...but the pack needs precise leadership. Luna stands beside her Alpha, not in his seat.”

Oh, hell no.

My grip went white-knuckle on those armrests. “And who steps up when the Alpha can barely breathe, Rowan? Just let the borders collapse until Dominic’s out of bed?”

Murmurs shot around the room like a busted hive.

Rowan just looked at me, wrinkled face sour, ready to quote the rulebook. “Tradition, Elora. We won't break from it...”

“Tradition’s not going to keep us from getting our faces chewed off,” I snapped before I could reel it back. My voice kinda boomed, I didn’t know I had that in me. “Tradition doesn’t patch up warriors or stop a rebellion when people smell weakness. Dominic wouldn’t want us paralyzed by ceremony while rogues sharpen their claws.”

Suddenly, a few councilors woke up, and they almost looked impressed. A few just looked pissed.

And then there’s Mira. Parked at the far end like some snaky little duchess, fake-sad eyes, always listening, always smiling. Not even technically a council member, but she had her claws in every ear that mattered.

“She speaks well,” she purred, hands all neatly folded. “But is it enough? Elora has a gentle heart. Will she spill blood if she must? Can she really make the hard calls?”

Her eyes cut straight through me, like spitting venom.

I stared right back. “Try me, Mira. Don’t mistake kindness for weakness.”

She stopped smiling. Just for a second, but I saw it.

The rest of the meeting was a blur of border reports, supply panics, and just a whiff of outright mutiny. It felt like they were all waiting for me to fall apart. But you know what? I didn’t.

I listened, weighed every word, made calls, even surprised myself, and my voice didn’t even tremble. Still, every decision felt like another concrete block dropped on my chest. Dominic’s absence was like a blank wall in the room.

When we finally finished, I felt every bone in my body weaken.

Lucky me.

Later that night, I dragged myself up to Dominic’s room. He still looked dead, practically...skin so gray it hurt my heart. Healers shuffling around, going through the motions.

I sat down. Took his hand. Not even a flicker.

“I tried,” I said, so soft it barely counted. “I tried, Dom. But they don’t see me. Not really. I’m just the stand-in, the Luna in Alpha’s clothing.”

Pressed my forehead against his cold knuckles, squeezed my eyes shut. My wolf was pacing in my head, agitated as hell.

“I can’t do this by myself.”

Admitting that felt ugly. Like choking down glass. It didn’t matter. Still true.

I could bark orders until my throat bled. Could put up with the side-eye and the gossip. But war? Tactics, patrols, chess moves with lives on the line? That was always Dominic’s game. Or, way back, Dante’s.

Yeah, Dante. His name brought an ache to my chest.

He was rotting in a cell for crimes he didn’t commit, and everyone knows it, no one talks about it. All because Dominic got jealous, and the council needed a scapegoat. The thing is, even if they all want to pretend otherwise, Dante’s the only one built to keep this place from falling apart while Dominic’s laid up.

Take him out, the cracks start deepening. Lose him, and Mira gets her claws in for good.

So, the next morning, I walked back in with my chin up, backbone steeled. Voice? Didn’t even wobble.

“We can’t protect our borders with children pretending they’re warriors,” I snapped, jabbing at the maps. “We need someone out there who actually knows how to break a rogue attack before it starts.”

Rowan squinted at me, suspicion oozing. “And who did you have in mind?”

My heart went into freefall for a tick. Knew this would be the shot heard ‘round the pack. But, truth is truth.

I let it hang there, daring any of them to blink first.

"Dante," I finally blurted out, my voice coming out steadier than I felt, “Dominic’s brother. Our Beta.”

The room...wow, the whole place sucked in a breath at once, like some soap opera. Mira’s eyes shot open, all doe-eyed for two seconds, then she went full cobra, smiling like a blade.

“Well, well,” she cooed, syrupy sweet. “You mean the traitor? The one who tried to pull a fast one on us and nearly toppled the whole thing? That’s your brilliant play? Letting him lead our warriors?”

I didn’t even blink. “I’ll take the traitor with the best fists over more bodies at the border, Mira. Unless you want to keep acting like our patrols aren’t getting shredded every night.”

Then absolute chaos. Half the council lost their minds, the other half grumbled under their breath, looking guilty as hell. Someone actually hissed my name like I was the villain in a fairy tale. Whatever. I stayed planted, spine straight, jaw set.

Let them scream.

Because deep down, every single one of them knew I was the only one willing to say it out loud.

And so did Mira. She wasn’t fooling anyone.

Later, when the council nonsense faded, and night smothered everything, I went back to Dominic’s side. He still looked like death warmed over, but breathing at least. I kissed his forehead, too soft for all the bravery I had shown earlier, and whispered.

“I’ll keep it together for you, Dom. I swear I’ll hold this damn pack. But I can’t fake it without him. Hate me if you want, but I have to bring Dante back.”

My wolf clawed at me from the inside, pissed off at the thought of him still locked up. The bond between us buzzed like a bad bruise, almost like it knew there was no other card to play.

And right there, I finally faced it.

I didn’t just want Dante as a general.

I needed him. Without him, everything came apart. That was the nasty truth, and I was done pretending otherwise.