Chapter 70 CRACKS IN CROWN

DOMINIC’S POV

By the time my mind finally cleared—after the run, after the burn of humiliation and the sting of self-loathing had dulled into something manageable—I buried myself back into work. Pack affairs had fallen behind, and I had no excuse left to hide behind. But just as I started reviewing patrol shifts and trade reports, a sharp knock broke the fragile silence.

My mother entered like a storm cloud, her arms folded tightly across her chest, face set in that familiar disapproving mask. "Dominic," she said, "we need to talk."

I didn’t look up right away. "What is it, Mother?"

She closed the door behind her with unnecessary force and stalked forward. "Where were you last night?"

I tilted my head and raised a brow. "Out."

"Out where?"

My jaw tensed. "Since when do you track my movements like a bloodhound? I’m Alpha, not a teenager sneaking out past curfew."

"I’m asking because people are talking," she snapped. "The servants saw you leave, and you didn’t come back until morning. W