Chapter 75

Mira’s POV

The summons hit me at dawn, right as I’d finally managed to drift off. Of course. Never fails. I’m sure I still had pillow creases on my cheek when that kid, one of the newer maids, bless her anxious little heart, came tapping at my door. Tapping is generous. It was more like a mouse sneezing. But she had that look, you know? Like if I even blinked too hard she’d bolt down the hall.

“Alpha Dominic requests your presence,” she muttered, staring at her shoes like they’d grown teeth. As if I’d bite her head off for breathing near me.

And just like that, I had a sick feeling in my stomach. Dominic? Wanting me? When did he wake up? Part of me wanted to run down the hall, but I was mostly bracing for disaster. Because if he was calling for me at this hour, it meant something was up. He had noticed. Maybe Elora's poison was finally working its way into his veins.

I threw on my best poker face, waved the girl out, and tried to look all serene and untouchable. Inside, I was sweating bullets. I couldn’t let him see me flinch. Not now. If I screwed up, Elora would be happy.

By the time I reached his chambers, I was the picture of composure, exactly how he used to like me. Calm, sharp, loyal. The place was freezing, fire barely alive in the hearth, and Dominic looked... well, like he’d been through hell. Older, smaller somehow. But his eyes? Still sharp enough to cut glass. He had them locked on me, just waiting for a crack.

“Mira.” His voice was rough. Not weak, just... tired.

I glided closer, all slow grace and forced elegance, dropping into a bow. “My Alpha.”

He just stared. Silence thick as mud. I almost laughed just to break it, but no, he wanted to make me squirm. Finally, he goes, “I’ve been told you haven’t been here.”

There it was.

Panic prickled up my neck, but I went for hurt instead.

“That’s not true.” Soft, just shaky enough. “I came, Dominic. You were out cold half the time, you just don’t remember. I sat with you. Prayed. When everyone else said you wouldn’t wake up, I stayed.”

Lie slid out smooth as ever. Normally, I’d feel pretty proud, but right then? Didn’t feel like it landed. His eyes just got colder, like he could see the script running behind my eyes.

“Elora says otherwise.”

My jaw clenched before I could stop it. “Of course she does,” I snapped too fast. Damn it. I pulled it back with a little sigh, lashes down, voice sweet again. “She’s always wanted me gone, Dominic. Makes me out to be the villain. But you know me. You know I would never turn my back on you.”

He just kept staring. Not a single flicker of warmth. I felt it then, like a pit opened in my gut, he wasn’t buying any of it.

He didn’t trust me.

Not anymore.

I saw it in the way his jaw clenched, the way he looked at me like I was a stranger. Once, he had believed everything I spoke, but Elora had wormed her way in, while I’d waited for him to come back to me.

I let out a tiny breath, hoping it sounded shaky, and let a tear stay at the edge of my eye. “Don’t let her turn you against me,” I whispered. “You’re everything I have, Dominic. Everything I’ve done, every last thing, was for us.”

Still nothing.

Just that cold, distant look.

He nodded, barely. “You may go.”

It stung worse than a slap. I bowed before him before slipping out. I didn't want them to see my rage.

Outside the chambers, I just stood there, nails digging into my palm as rage burned through me. Elora had gutted me with kindness and patience, all the things I could never fake for long. She’d made herself necessary, and I’d let her.

No more.

He could forget me if he wanted. But the pack? That was another story. If Dominic wouldn’t be swayed, maybe the rest of them would be.

That night, sitting in my room, I pulled up the loose board under my bed and dragged out the letters I’d stashed there for years. All the rival packs and rougies. They had all been waiting for a sign. I had pulled a few favours.

I read their promises again, then grabbed a pen and started writing. No more waiting. No more hoping. I told them the truth: Dominic was weak, the pack splintered, now’s the time to strike. Stand with me, and there’s power to be had.

Every word, a spark in dry tinder. Let’s see who burns first.

And as the ink dried, that white-hot anger in me? It just calcified into something sharper. Steel-hard. Screw it, if Dominic wanted nothing to do with me, if Elora thought she could snuff me out with her little crown, let them try. I’d rip this pack apart, limb from limb, until there was nothing left. No throne for either of them. Let it all burn. I’d crawl out of the ashes anyway, and they’d see who was left standing.

DANTE’S POV

Look, when Elora busted me out, stood up in council, risked her neck for the good of the pack, I figured I’d feel some huge rush of victory. Maybe some righteous “I told you so.” But nope. All I got was this slow, gnawing anger. I was pissed at everyone. The ones who dumped their mess on me, Dominic for letting suspicion eat him alive, and Mira, with that fake smile.

We trained until the field out back was nothing but muddy chaos and sore muscles. I didn’t push the boys and men so they could win a council debate. I wanted something real, something rumors couldn’t touch. I taught them how to hold a ridge, sniff out fake retreats, track in the rain, stuff you don’t learn in a council meeting. Their bodies caught on fast. Their brains? Well, some, yeah. Others just kept looking to the council for orders, or to the wind for the next bit of gossip.

Elora started showing up to drills most mornings. She’d weave through the ranks, cool as ice, and the men respected her, some scared, some impressed, some just wanting their rations on time. She smelled like woodsmoke, herbs, and straight-up exhaustion. Honestly? It worked for her. She wasn’t playing the pretty Luna anymore. She grabbed maps from me, argued with captains about patrol shifts, barked orders, she’d stopped pretending. I probably watched her too much, but hey, watching is safer than opening your mouth in council, where everyone’s out for blood and alliances change with the weather.

The attacks got weird. Like, almost rehearsed. One week, a supply wagon’s torched. Next, our scouts get sent off chasing ghosts. Then a messenger—dead before he can even say “bad news.” Each thing alone? Annoying, sucks, we deal. But strung together? Yeah, something stank. Someone wanted us looking east while they crept up from the north with a blade.

I’ve been at this long enough to know, coincidences like that don’t just happen. Somebody’s pulling strings. Mira’s always been nasty, sure, but this? This was next-level. She could poison a room with a whisper, but now it felt like she’d hired professionals. Maybe even made deals with old enemies. We’d survived rogue attacks before. A coup from inside, though? Whole different beast.

“Dante.” Elora’s voice, right behind me just as I was fixing some kid’s guard, snapped me out of it. She looked rough, with dark circles and sharp cheekbones, like she hadn’t slept in a week. “We lost two carts. South road. No patrols anywhere near.”

“Who picked up the trail?” I asked, already grabbing for the map she shoved at me.