Chapter 71

He dropped his voice, softer, but it cut deeper. “So don’t. But stop acting like you’re in this all by yourself.”

Part of me wanted to just collapse, let him carry it all. Just for tonight. But I couldn’t. Not here. Couldn’t risk it.

So, yeah, I gave him a short nod, tried to patch together whatever scraps of dignity I had left. “Fine. Side by side. For the pack.”

He didn’t answer. Didn’t have to. The look in his eyes said everything I was too scared to say out loud: this was never just about the pack for him.

And, hell, if I were being honest? It wasn’t just about the pack for me anymore, either

Dominic’s POV

Waking up felt like trying to claw my way out of muddy water—m, nothing clear, just blurry voices bleeding together and that weird, almost too-cold cloth pressed against my forehead. There was this smell, something old and safe...lavender mixed with that after-rain freshness. Elora. Only she ever smelled like that.

I forced my eyes open, though honestly, it was more like squinting through a bad hangover. Ceiling beams above me swam like lazy fish. My body? Forget it. I felt like someone had swapped out my blood for liquid cement. I just lay there, barely breathing, listening to the silence. Everything felt… breakable.

“Elora,” I croaked, my own voice scratching out of my throat like it belonged to some old man.

She was there in a blink, hovering over me. Her face—man, she looked rough. Pale, eyes rimmed red, like insomnia had become her new best friend. When she saw me, relief hit her so hard her mouth twitched into a shaky smile. “Dominic,” she said, grabbing my hand and squeezing like she was anchoring herself. “You’re awake.”

I tried to smile back, but it was pitiful. “For now,” I managed.

Her thumb traced circles on my hand, shaky but stubborn. “Don’t do that. You’re gonna get better. You have to.”

I looked at her, even though my brain was stuck in molasses. She looked… smaller, somehow. Like all the fight had been sucked out, but there was this stubborn glint in her eyes. The girl was running on fumes and pure willpower. While I’d been out cold, she’d been the one keeping the world spinning.

“You’ve been hauling the weight,” I muttered, feeling shame burn somewhere deep.

She pressed her lips together. Didn’t say a word, but honestly, she didn’t have to.

I shut my eyes, tried to swallow the ache. I’d always seen myself as the big protector, the one holding it all together. Meanwhile, Elora was over here quietly keeping the pack alive, no recognition, just grit.

“Elora…” My throat felt like sandpaper, but I had to say it. “Should’ve seen how strong you are. Should’ve trusted you more.”

Her eyes went wide, a flash of something raw and real. “Don’t,” she whispered. “You need to rest.”

No chance. Couldn’t shut up now. “Thought keeping you safe meant keeping you small. But you… You carried us when I couldn’t even sit up. You’re the strong one.”

She blinked hard, tears threatening but not quite falling. “You’re alive. That’s what matters.”

I wanted to reach for her, but my body wouldn’t cooperate. Frustration bubbled up, ugly and useless, so I just watched her—memorized the lines of exhaustion, the steel in her jaw.

“You’ve suffered,” I said, voice barely there. “Because of me.”

She shot back, fierce and fast, “No. Because of them. The ones who did this.” Her jaw locked, and for the first time, I saw real fire under all that exhaustion.

Them. The thought made my mouth taste bitter. My brain fumbled through broken memories—collapsing, shadows twisting at the corners, and then Mira, her face hovering close, acting all soft and sweet with promises she never meant to keep.

“Mira,” I croaked out, voice rough as gravel.

Elora went all stiff, eyes narrowed like she was ready to skewer somebody. “What about her?”

“She was there,” I mumbled, picking through memories like broken glass. “Back when I got sick. Couldn’t get rid of her. Now…” My eyes wandered, searching the empty corners. “She’s just—gone. Where is she?”

Elora paused just a bit too long. Yeah, that was suspicious.

“She claims she’s off handling other stuff,” Elora said, and her tone was way too careful. “But honestly? She’s barely around.”

My brain was moving like molasses, but even I could feel the warning bells. Mira loved lurking, loved secrets. If she was missing now, it wasn’t because she cared. No way. She was scheming.

“She’s up to something,” I grumbled.

Elora squeezed my hand, knuckles white. “I’m starting to think so too.”

I really looked at her then. She was shaking, pale as moonlight, but still standing. Damn, I’d misjudged her—pushed her aside when she was probably the only one with any guts left.

“Elora.” Her name tasted heavy, full of all the stuff I never said. “Don’t let her break you. Seriously. You’re tougher than she’ll ever be.”

A flicker of a smile. Shadows still haunted her eyes, but something softer was there too. “Sleep,” she whispered, brushing sweaty hair off my face. “You’ll need it. We’re not done fighting.”

I wanted to stay awake, just a little longer. I didn't want to let go of her. But the darkness dragged me under anyway.

Right before I slipped under, one last thought clung tight: I’d finally seen her, really seen her. And I’d be damned if I let Mira snuff out her fire. Not while I was still breathing.