Chapter 65

Elora’s POV

Those walls.... I hated them. The Alpha’s chambers, some days they felt like a padded cell, other days like the only place I could actually breathe. I’d wake up every morning to Dominic’s ragged breathing, the sting of burning herbs filling my nose, and healers gliding in and out so quietly it made my skin crawl. They’d mutter their useless little prayers, but you could tell they’d given up ages ago.

I barely left his side. Not because anyone told me to, let’s be real, nobody had the guts to order me around now, but because the idea of Dominic waking up alone? Or God forbid, opening his eyes to just Mira? His skin was ghostly, his lips all dried out, and even though the healers kept telling me, “Oh, the poison’s not spreading anymore,” they couldn’t do a thing about what was already chewing through him.

So there I was, basically glued to his bedside. Feeding him tiny sips of broth when he’d manage to wake up enough. Dabbing sweat off his forehead all night long. Checking his pulse, over and over, as if I just counted right, I could keep his heart beating. Pretty pathetic, honestly.

Meanwhile, outside, the world was pretty much falling apart.

The council? Total disaster. Meetings went from boring to full-on shouting matches. I’d sit there at the head of the table, in Dominic’s chair, no less, and I could literally feel their eyes burning holes through me. Not a shred of respect, just suspicion. Like, “Who let her in here?”

“She isn’t Alpha,” one of those old men hissed last week, thinking I couldn’t hear.

Nice try.

“She is Luna,” someone else shot back.

“Luna or not, she is no leader.”

I used to think the hardest part would be keeping him alive. Turns out, the real nightmare is keeping the whole pack from tearing itself to pieces while Dominic’s stuck in some fever dream, fighting a war I can’t even see.

Oh, and Mira? Don’t even get me started.

She was everywhere. Smiling like butter wouldn’t melt, whispering to the servants, practically draping herself over certain councilmen like some kind of snake. I caught her watching me across the dinner table once, lips twisted in this smug little half-smile that made me want to throw my fork at her face.

It wasn’t just paranoia, either. The gossip was everywhere. Couldn’t walk down a hallway without catching a whiff of it.

“She spends way too much time with Dante.”

“She’s cashing in on Dominic’s illness.”

“Elora poisoned him.”

Every time I heard it, I wanted to scream. Instead, I straightened my back, made my voice calm, and hid my shaking hands in my skirts. Because they would feed into my fears.

But I wasn’t about to just sit there.

Once the healers had shuffled off and the guards started dozing in their chairs, that’s when I got to work. I started small, asking the servants about the night Dominic collapsed, double-checking what he ate, and asking the cooks about every spice and crumb. They all answered me with these tight, polite little smiles. Like they were hiding something.

So I dug deeper. Snuck into the kitchens myself, poked through jars and sniffed bottles in the cellar. I didn't find anything, but I could feel it. The truth, dancing just out of reach.

That poison didn’t magically get into Dominic’s food. Someone put it there. Someone who lived and breathed inside these walls.

And if you asked me? Mira was written all over it.

But why would she poison Dominic?

By the third night of this little crusade, I was running on fumes.

I walked back to Dominic’s room, my hair smelling of different spices and herbs. Dominic looked the same. Still pale and sickly.

I sat in the chair by his bed, letting out a breath. My whole body ached. My throat aches from holding in too many screams I didn't let out in the council meeting.

I reached out, grabbed his cold hand in both of mine. When I spoke, my voice came out as a whisper.

“You were supposed to see me, Dominic.”

The words just fell out like I had been holding onto them so long, I couldn’t stop them if I tried.

“You were supposed to see me. Not just that Luna who shares your bed, not just the woman you got stuck marrying, but…me. Elora.”

My eyes stung, but I didn’t even bother blinking the tears away. What was the point? I was done pretending.

“I’ve carried this pack while you slept. I took all their crap, their gossip, their dirty looks, those little whispers behind my back. I stood up to Mira when you couldn’t be bothered. And still…nothing. I’m like a shadow to you. You look at me and all you see is someone dragging you down.”

My whole chest shook, but I wasn’t done. The words just kept coming.

“I don’t care about your stupid throne. I never wanted power. I just wanted you to believe in me. To look at me and see that I was strong enough to stand at your side.”

I pressed my forehead against his hand.

“Please. Just look at me. See me. Not your Luna. Not Dante’s problem. Not some wife you’re stuck with. Just…me.”

For a second, I swear I felt his fingers twitch. My head jerked up, hoping to hit me. But nope. His face was still pale, breathing all shallow and empty.

Maybe I imagined it. Or maybe, just maybe, some small stubborn part of him heard me.

The next morning, I walked into the council room, shoulders back, head high. My heart still felt bruised, but whatever. I wasn’t gonna let them see that.

Same old arguments, rogues at the border, food running low, warriors getting lazy. They all turned to me for answers. I saw the doubt in their eyes. Gave them answers anyway.

If Dominic couldn’t see me yet, fine. I would make sure that when he finally opened his eyes, he couldn’t ignore what I had become.

Not weak.

Not invisible.

A leader.