Semua Bab Fated To One, In Love With The Alpha Twins: Bab 41 - Bab 50

Elora's pov I really never imagined I would end up here, staring into Dominic’s eyes, watching every ounce of trust shatter in real-time. He was always unreadable, colder than a November pond, but today, all that calm went up in smoke. He looked at me like I was some rat crawling out from under his bed, like he was itching to stomp.And there on the ground, a mess of letters. My name. Dante’s. Laid out in the tidiest little lines, neat as you please, stinking of melted wax and straight-up treachery. Meticulously written, like somebody really wanted it to look legit. Too perfect, actually. And if I didn’t know myself, I would probably buy it.But I do know myself. And there’s no way.Dominic, though, his whole body was strung tight. He barely kept himself from swinging. When he spoke, the room went cold. “You. Both of you. How long has this been going on?” It was more of a punch than a question.I’ll admit it, that stung. Worse than a punch in the throat. All I managed was a half-cho

Dante’s POVThat chamber could freeze hell over. I swear, I’ve been in dungeons with more warmth, and not just because of the actual temperature. Every eye in that place, burning holes straight through me. The council, the soldiers, even the serving girls peeking from behind those ridiculous curtains. Didn’t take a genius to guess what they were thinking. Judging me before the damned trial even started.The chains were not even subtle. Heavy as sin and about as delicate as a slap in the face. Pure theater. They wanted everyone to see me messed up, so the rumors wouldn’t be rumors anymore. They would just be facts, right? Dominic waved those stupid letters around, his chest full of pride and people taking all in. But what twisted the knife was her. Elora. Sitting there, her fist folded, it turned white, barely breathing. Luna of the pack, my Luna, really, if you asked my heart. The bond between us hummed, an electrical itch under my skin. I could feel her fury. Her fear. Both aimed

Dominic’s POVThose walls were closing in, squeezing tighter every hour. It felt like I was getting crushed alive in a tomb lined with my father’s regrets. The fireplace kept spitting out noise, all crackle and pop, pretending it could melt the ice that’d taken root in my bones. I just sat there, hunkered in that ancient chair, knuckles going white on the armrests, nearly splitting the wood.Why the hell, Dante? What are you playing at? I don't know what he needs to achieve by this when we literally have the kingdom. It belonged to us both. Nobody ripped the throne away from me. Dad handed it over, dying breath and all, his voice shaking as he said, “Keep the pack safe. Lead them, Dominic. Dante’s at your back, but all this is yours.” I had clung to that, like some prayer. Figured my brother had too.So where’s this crap from? The notes, the sneaking, the whispering? Dante’s betrayal hangs in the air like smoke I can’t clear from my lungs.My jaw locked up. Could almost taste the bit

Mira’s POVThe air was ice against my skin. Standing there, breathing slowly by that damn open window, eyes fixed on her...Elora. Gliding into Dante’s room like she owned it or something. I was supposed to be asleep, right? Curled up with Dominic, all safe and spoiled. Except, sleep took one look at the mess tonight and noped out the door. She hadn’t even realized I was listening, the idiot.So I trailed her. Quiet, careful, heels not even cracking on the marble. Found her kneeling at Dante’s desk. Of course. Her hands were all over the letters I’d written, every word perfectly placed to ruin her. Yeah, Dante's betrayal, gift-wrapped by yours truly.Can't lie, I grinned in the dark. Watching her try to piece it together, like stumbling through a maze I'd built just for her. She called herself Luna, thought she was some genius with secrets...please. She was just a puppet and I’d purposely left a couple breadcrumbs in those stupid papers. Not enough to give her proof, just enough to gna

Narrator's pov Council chambers always feel like a coffin, don’t they? Air so thick with torch smoke and suspicion you practically choke on it. Dominic parked himself at the head of the table, jaws clenched so tight. He hated this place, and who could blame him? The walls were crammed with scowling portraits of Alphas past, all looking down their crooked noses like, “Oh, we’d never mess this up.” Liars. None of them ever ruled with blood running hot and betrayal stinking up every decision.Now he’s the prey, not the predator, every pair of crusty old council eyes aimed right at his throat.“Alpha,” wheezed good old Elder Greaves, voice like gravel dragged across asphalt, “the pack’s on life support. Rogues pour in, warriors trip over each other, folks are gossiping like market hens.” He didn’t even blink. “We want your brother back. Dante gets his job or this place falls apart.”Wham. Like a gavel to his skull.Dominic leaned in, fingers digging trenches into the polished wood. His