Chapter 67

Elora’s POV

The castle felt dead. Since Dominic got bedridden, all the laughter and noise faded. Now it’s all whispers and side-eyes. Servants worked aimlessly, and warriors whispered things when I wasn't looking. It suddenly felt like I was a stranger in my home. Even the council meetings were unbearable. Everybody’s got questions, but no one wants to be the first to ask.

So, sure, I’m learning. What’s the alternative? Collapse?

I stayed in Dominic’s room way after the healers left. Herbs still lingered in the air...bitter, sharp. He looked so small under that blanket, chest barely moving. I smoothed the covers, hand shaking, pressing against his forehead like maybe, just maybe, I could force him back to strength.

“I’m doing everything I can,” I muttered, but the only answer I got was the clock ticking. “Feels like the whole castle’s turned against me.”

Then I noticed it...the basket with all the little glass bottles the healer left. All lined up like soldiers, except one. Its cork was off, just a hair crooked. I picked it up, squinting at the rim. Some weird residue. Not normal. Healers are obsessed with this stuff.

I put the bottle back, feeling all kinds of wrong. My eyes landed on the ledger on the side table. I’d started reading it at night, desperate to make sense of all these herbs and potions. Tonight, a word jumped out, foxbane root. Not just dangerous. Deadly, if you screw up the brew. Why was it even here? The ledger said it was delivered, not thrown out.

My heart was hammered.

I wanted to pretend it was nothing, a typo, but it stuck in my head. Like a worm. And there it was...Mira. Her name just… echoed. I shook it off. If I accused her and I was wrong, she’d twist it, make it look like I was the crazy one. But if I was right, well, that was a whole different nightmare.

The next morning’s council meeting was pure torture.

“Dominic grows weaker,” Elder Harlan announced, like he hadn’t been waiting for this moment. He looked at me like it was my fault the sun came up funny. “The pack is unsettled. Leadership must remain firm.”

I tried to sound steady, but inside I was raw. “I’ve been firm. Led patrols, managed supplies, kept everyone together...”

And then Mira spoke, all honey and knives. “Yet the rogues get braver, don’t they? Maybe firm isn’t the word, Elora. Maybe… distracted.”

My head snapped toward her so fast I could’ve pulled something. She just smiled, lips painted a perfect red, looking smug as a cat with cream.

“What are you getting at?” My voice could’ve cut glass.

She tilted her head, the picture of fake sympathy. “Nothing, darling. I just think when our Luna spends all her time at one man’s bedside, maybe the pack suffers.”

A wave of whispers swept through the council. My hands dug into the chair, but I didn’t let my mask slip.

“You want me to leave my husband to die?” I spat.

Her eyes sparkled, cold as frost. “I want you to remember your place.”

That stung.

Hard.

What killed me was how nobody jumped to my defense. A couple looked guilty, but most just nodded, like she’d said what they were all thinking.

I sat up straight, voice shaking but loud enough. “My place is with Dominic and this pack. I’m not failing anyone. But I won’t play along with your rumors. If you’ve got something to say, Mira, say it.”

She just smiled wider, like she’d already won. Didn’t have to say a word, her silence said enough. Poison, pure and simple.

By the end of the meeting, everyone was watching me. Some looked worried. Some looked like they were weighing their odds.

That night, I was right back at Dominic’s side. Shadows crawled around us. My hands shook, no matter how hard I ignored them.

“I think she did this to you,” I whispered.

“Mira. No proof yet, but… my gut knows. She’s spreading rumors, and I can’t stamp it out fast enough. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this together.”

Dominic just kept breathing, slow, steady. And I held onto that. Because honestly, it was all I had left.

Dominic’s POV

Man, the world felt like it was sitting right on my chest chains yanking me under black water. Couldn’t move a muscle. My throat felt like I’d swallowed glass. And yet, through all that mess, there was a voice cutting through the noise.

“Elora…”

I tried reaching out, really did, but my arms just…nope. Not happening. It hurt to breathe, every inhale hurt my ribs. The voice stopped, though. Kept me tethered, somehow, as if I let go, I’d just drop off the edge.

Finally, my eyes cracked open. Everything was all blurry and shifting, the glow of lanterns, the fuzzy outline of a hand gripping mine.

“Elora,” I rasped out. God, it sounded pathetic.

She looked up so fast. Tears on her face, but her eyes were still fierce, like she was holding the universe together by sheer stubbornness. “I’m here. I’m right here.”

I wanted to give her a smile or say, “Hey, you did good, I saw you” ...something, anything. But my lips didn’t listen. Couldn’t get the words out; they just tangled up in my throat.

“Don’t… let her…” I choked, each word like dragging barbed wire over raw skin.

Her forehead scrunched. “Don’t let who...? Dominic, what are you talking about?”

But that weight? It just got worse. Like gravity doubled down. My fingers barely twitched in her hand. Breathing turned into this desperate, ugly gasp. The last thing I saw was her face, right there, all wild and determined.

“Elora…” One last shot at her name.

And then? Nothing. Just darkness, swallowing me whole.