8: The Wrong Dress

Jacob stepped closer, moving like a predator about to strike. I backed away, but he caught me quickly and yanked me toward him. His eyes locked on mine, unrelenting.

I blurted out in defense. "I saw the dress on the bed and thought you wanted me to wear it for the Moonlit Ball, I swear I didn’t take it myself."

His expression twisted. "No." He shook his head sharply. "I would never want that. You are not her. Wearing her dress will never make you her."

My face twisted in confusion "Who?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You’re not her!" He shouted, ignoring my question. "Do you understand that?" His voice rose again, booming.

I nodded quickly, though I didn’t understand at all. Who was “her” and why is he comparing me to her

"Use your words!" He roared, and I flinched.

"Yes." My voice cracked.

He dragged me even closer, his face only inches from mine. "Don’t ever try to be her. You can never be her."

"I know," I said out of fear.

My mind kept blinking with thoughts. Who is “her” and why is he constantly talking about it?

Jacob didn’t say a thing afterwards. He just stared at me, and for a moment I wondered if he was even seeing me, or if his mind was trapped somewhere else. When he finally spoke, his voice was lower, almost like he was convincing himself. "You’re not her. You can never be her."

I opened my mouth to speak, but his grip suddenly tightened.

"Say it!" He barked. "Say it! You’re not her!"

My heart pounded so hard it hurt. Words stuck in my throat.

"Say it!" He demanded again.

"I’m not her," I whispered, tears blurring my vision. "I’m not her," I repeated over and over again until he roughly released my hand.

"Good!" He spatted

I stumbled back, struggling to keep my balance.

"Now go change and if you ever wear this dress again, I won’t stop myself from showing you what happens to liars and replacements."

I didn’t understand what he meant, but it scared me. I nodded saying a silent "Okay." and then slipped into the closet.

The tears I hadn’t realized I was holding back spilled down my face. Once they started, I couldn’t stop. Even as I changed out of the dress, the sobs kept coming.

A cold certainty settled in my chest. I was in danger. Jacob was dangerous. And I had the sickening feeling there was more to him than I knew.

I forced myself to steady my breathing and tossed the dress aside. At the sink, I splashed water on my face. My reflection stared back at me, swollen-eyed and trembling, and I couldn’t stop replaying his words.

Her.

Who was she? Why was it so important?

No matter how much I turned it over in my mind, it didn’t make sense. And the dress… if he didn’t choose it for me to wear then who did? And how did it end up lying on the bed?

I sighed heartily.

I shut off the tap and lingered in the silence. I waited, straining my ears, until I could no longer hear any sound from the room. Then, carefully, I stepped out of the closet.

The air in the room felt heavy. I sensed someone’s presence but didn’t dare lift my eyes. "Please don’t hurt me. I’m not her," I whispered, certain Jacob was waiting.

But it wasn’t Jacob’s voice that answered.

"I would never hurt you," Dominic said.

I looked at him and let out a shaky breath of relief. Dominic closed the distance between us and wrapped his arms around me.

"Did he hurt you?" He asked softly.

I didn’t want to admit it, so I whispered, "No."

He pulled back just enough to look me in the eyes. "I know he did," He said quietly. "And I’m so sorry for his behavior, Luna."

"It’s okay," I murmured.

"It’s not okay at all. I’ll make sure he pays for this," He growled.

"No, please. I don’t want any trouble," I begged.

"This isn’t trouble. I can’t just stand by while Jacob treats you like that. It’s awful."

"I just don’t want any more drama," I sighed. My voice trembled as I added, "I don’t understand him. The dress was on the bed—I thought he wanted me to wear it, I swear."

Dominic’s chest rose and fell with a deep sigh. "Jacob is just… crazy."

I exhaled heavily before speaking "Who was he talking about?" I asked. "He kept saying ‘her.’ Who is she?"

He looked at me for a long moment, then let out a soft breath. "Let’s just forget it. It’s over now. We should focus on getting you calm again."

"No." My voice hardened. "It’s strange. He kept insisting I’m not her, that I could never be her. Who is she?"

"Luna, relax. It’s done." His tone was gentle, but it made me feel like he was dodging the conversation.

"You know about this, don’t you?" I asked.

His silence said everything. I stepped closer. "Dom, please."

I searched his face, my voice breaking. "I know you know. Just tell me, who is she, and why does he keep saying I can’t be her?"

Dominic finally sighed, his shoulders heavy with something unsaid. "I’m sorry, Luna," He whispered. "But I can’t tell you. It’s not my place."

"This is my life we’re talking about, Dom. Please." My voice cracked as I pleaded. "I already know Jacob didn’t marry me because I’m his mate. And I know he’s hiding something in that room."

Dominic’s eyes widened in shock.

"Please," I whispered. "Tell me why he married me."

He parted his lips as if to answer, then closed them again. A long sigh slipped from him. "I can’t. I’m sorry."

His hand lifted to brush away the tired tears on my face. "All I can tell you is that you have to stop crying because him," He said gently. "And if he ever hurts you again, you can come to me. I’ll always be here for you."

Then he turned and walked away, leaving me standing there with more questions than answers.