Chapter 66

Dante’s POV

The clang of steel and barking voices smashed through the training yard, all sharp edges and it sounded like the world’s angriest drumline out there. Sweat slid down my back, icy and hot at the same time, while I grabbed this rookie’s elbow, yanked it up, and tossed out a curse under my breath. He winced, but hell, he fixed it. Swung again, cleaner this time.

“Better,” I grunted, stepping out of range. “Again. Don’t drag your damn feet.”

They jumped. They always did when I barked.

Not because I was Alpha. That ship sailed ages ago. It was trust. They knew me. I had been beside them since I could barely swing a sword, and got my scars right next to theirs. We’d bled on the borders, stalked rogues through the pitch-black woods, and I dragged home more bodies than anyone should ever see. Nobody else wanted the job.

I had gone to see Dominic even though I hadn't forgiven him. He wasn't looking very good. And Elora has to take this pack on her shoulder. The people look up to me for the pack's protection.

Didn’t ask for any of this. But someone had to do it.

The rogues had gotten gutsy lately, sniffing around like they owned the place. Warriors were twitchy, Mira’s gossip crawling through the ranks like a damn virus. A whole lot of doubt in the air. They needed someone to pull their heads out of the fog.

So I did.

Day in, day out, drills until they dropped. Yelling, breaking bad habits, forcing them back into something resembling a unit. And, little by little, I saw it...the old fire coming back. Eyes sharper, backs straighter. The pack was starting to remember who the hell they were.

Not because of Dominic. And definitely not because of Elora, for all her calm, tragic-queen vibes. Sometimes I wanted to shake her, see if she’d crack.

No, it was me holding this mess together.

Not sure if that made me proud or just pissed off.

Later, after I’d wrung every last drop of sweat out of them, I was out by the border fires with a patrol. The woods out there looked dangerous, rogues there, somewhere out in the dark. My wolf was clawing at me, begging for a fight, but I kept him on a tight leash. I needed a plan.

“Perimeter stays locked down,” I said. “Nobody comes through without my say-so. Double shifts. Sleep’s a luxury.”

They nodded. Real trust, heavy, almost painful. This should’ve been my throne, my birthright. But politics made sure I was just the guy in the shadows, not the one on the dais.

Still, I couldn’t just walk. Not with Elora here.

When I finally dragged myself back to the fortress, there I was, talking quietly with a healer. She looked like she hadn’t slept in a week, but still looked stubborn. It made something twist in my chest.

She saw me, and I swear, it was like she could breathe again.

“You made it back,” she said, voice all soft relief.

“Yeah,” I answered, rougher than I meant to. “I told you I had it all under control.”

She tried for a smile, but didn’t quite make it. “The council is on edge. They want answers.”

“When are they not?” I snorted, but followed her inside anyway. What else was I gonna do?

When the council finally bailed and left the two of us rattling around in that cavernous chamber, she just sort of folded into Dominic’s chair, looking about ten years older than she’d started. Let out this sigh that felt like she was resigning.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she mumbled, rubbing at her temples.

“Do what?” I said, even though, come on, I knew exactly what she meant.

She waved a hand at the mess, maps, scrolls, and complaints stacked like a damn avalanche. “All of this. The warriors, the council, the pack… I’m trying, Dante. But it’s like, I can’t do it the way you want me to do it.”

Her voice cracked at the end, and that did something to me. It shouldn’t have. She’s my brother’s Luna. Not mine. Vows, titles, all that. But watching her fall apart? That hit somewhere sharp.

Before I could stop myself, I was closer, my hand resting on the back of her chair.

“You’re not drowning,” I said, voice rougher than I meant. “You’re the one actually holding this mess together while Dominic’s out cold. You get that, right? Maybe they talk, but they’re following you. You’re keeping the seams from ripping.”

She looked up, tears brimming, and if that didn’t just gut me. “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

That made me happy and sad at the same time.

“Don’t thank me,” I muttered, backing away fast before I did something stupid. “I’m just doing what needs to be done. For the pack.”

We both knew that wasn’t the main reason.

When I finally lay on my cot that night, sleep was far away. My brain wouldn’t shut up, her face, her voice, the way she leaned toward me like I was the only steady thing she had left.

Torture.

And the guilt burned. She was Dominic’s. That should’ve been enough to keep my wolf in check, but nope. The bond was there, gnawing at my insides.

But letting her sink? Couldn’t do it.

So I kept carrying the load. Training warriors, standing next to her in those endless council meetings. Every day felt like a new way to torture me

Days turned into weeks. Blurry, exhausting weeks.

The warriors got sharper. Patrols stopped acting like amateurs. The rogues backed off a little. The pack started to look almost… normal again.

But the mess in my chest? It just got worse.

Every time Elora shot me that grateful look, I felt like a hero and a thief all at once. I was proud to be helping. Guilty as hell for wanting more than I should.

Her voice stuck in my head, echoing at night. Her scent, everywhere. Haunting.

And sure, I kept telling myself I was doing it for the pack.

For Dominic.

But deep down?

I was doing all of it for her.

Always her.