Chapter 3 - Dominic
Dominic Volkhov stood over the main table of the war room, palms braced against the spread of maps. The northern territories lay inked beneath his hands, red circles everywhere the hybrid raids had been reported.
Behind him, the heavy door opened without a knock.
Julian Rook slipped inside, soundless as ever.
Dominic didn’t look up at first. “Update?”
Julian came to stand opposite him. “I’ve found something.”
“Go on.”
“Another potential hybrid site. North ridge. An abandoned settlement on the Volnoye border, an old mining village called Voskresen.” Julian unfolded a smaller map and marked the spot with a tap of his finger. “Recent tracks. Fire remains. Not enough to call it a base, but it’s something.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “How did you hear of it?”
Julian hesitated, only briefly. “A local source.”
“Who?”
“A bookseller.”
That got Dominic’s attention. His expression sharpened. “Where?”
Julian watched him carefully. “Town bookshop. She manages the archives. Knew old texts about hybrids, old Russian legends. Turns out there’s some truth to them.”
Dominic’s voice dropped. “Her name.”
Julian tilted his head slightly, as though reluctant to answer. “Layla Hawthorne.”
Dominic stared down at the map, teeth clenched. Of course it was her. He knew what she did, knew where she lived, how she spent her days, but still. He’d found himself hoping…
He didn’t want her anywhere near this.
“She told you this?”
“Yes.”
“She approached you?”
“I approached her,” Julian corrected, his tone even, “I asked for references. She was…helpful.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened, a muscle jumping once along his cheek. “And how,” he asked, voice low and deliberate, “did you know to ask her?”
Julian’s eyes flicked up from the map. “Forgive me, Alpha, but the bookshop has all the old unofficial town records. It seemed logical. And from my intelligence, I knew she had knowledge of those records.”
Dominic studied him across the table, the faint light from the hearth catching the steel in his gaze. “If she has relevant knowledge, why not mention her name sooner?”
“It wasn’t relevant,” Julian said, “until now.”
Dominic leaned back, crossing his arms. “She shouldn’t be anywhere near pack business.”
Julian’s head cocked. “She’s a member of the pack, Alpha.”
“Not an active member.”
Julian regarded him for a long moment, and something sharp, almost curious, moved behind his eyes. “You seem awfully fixated on her. Why?”
Dominic’s reply was hard. “She’s Theodore’s sister.”
“And that makes her important to you?”
Dominic growled softly, “Watch yourself.”
Julian inclined his head, the faintest trace of a smile ghosting across his mouth. “Of course.” He turned back to the map. “The settlement’s remote. No working road access. If the hybrids are using it, they must have established transport links…”
His voice drifted. Dominic wasn’t paying attention. His thoughts had caught on that name. Layla Hawthorne.
He could see her as clearly as if she’d been standing in front of him again. Staring at him with that heartbreaking defiance.
Julian’s voice drew him back, “She seemed unsettled by the topic. Wouldn’t look me in the eye when I asked where she found the record. Either she’s hiding something, or she doesn’t trust the pack.”
Dominic’s tone hardened. “You think she’s lying?”
“I think she’s being careful,” Julian said. “That’s not the same thing as lying.”
“If she knows anything,” Dominic’s hands tightened into fists, “anything at all about these attacks, I want to hear it from her mouth.”
“She’s told us everything we need to know,” Julian said evenly. “We have other priorities.”
Dominic’s head snapped up, eyes dark. “You forget yourself.”
Julian didn’t flinch. “I’m here to serve you, Alpha. I’ll always tell you the truth. I don’t think, however, that you’re extending me the same courtesy.”
For a few tense seconds, they just looked at each other. Two predators, sizing each other up.
Finally, Dominic exhaled through his nose. “We’re going to Voskresen.”
Julian blinked once. “Now?”
“Yes. Before they move again.”
“I can send a team—”
“No,” Dominic’s tone was final. “You and me. We keep it focused and quick.”
Julian studied him for a long moment, expression calculated. “You’re sure this isn’t about something else?”
Dominic paused at the threshold of the room. “Meaning?”
“Meaning,” Julian said quietly, “you’ve had reports for weeks. You never insisted on personally investigating until today.”
Dominic didn’t reply.
“Curious,” Julian murmured.
Dominic’s voice came low and lethal, “Drop it, Rook. You overstep.”
Julian dipped his head. “As you wish, Alpha.”
Dominic turned and left, the door slamming shut.
***
The forest north of the Volkhov territory was almost unnaturally silent.
Pines rose in black ranks, ghostly against the young night.
It had taken them mere hours to cross the mountains, their wolves agile and quick.
But now they were nearing the edge of Volnoye territory, and Dominic knew to stay cautious.
He moved through it like a shadow, his breath clouding faintly in the air.
Behind him, quieter still, Julian followed.
They hadn’t spoken since leaving Skymist.
The path had long since vanished; now there were only the faint impression of old tracks beneath the snow. Every sense in Dominic’s body was alert. The cold press of the wind, the scent of stone, the weight of Julian’s steady presence at his back.
Finally, he broke the silence, “How far?”
“Half a mile,” Julian murmured. “Down through the valley side a bit further. We just passed one of the entrances to the mines.”
Dominic grunted acknowledgment and pushed forward.
He could feel Julian’s eyes on him sometimes, that patient, measuring gaze.
It wasn’t suspicion, exactly, but it grated on him all the same.
Rook was too good at reading people. It was what made him such an effective spy.
But sometimes, Dominic wished he’d refrain from turning that uncanny look on him.
The air thickened as they descended. The scent changed from clean frost to something earthier. The trees grew sparse, giving way to a valley of skeletal shapes.
Voskresen.
What had once been a mining settlement lay in ruins beneath a dusting of snow. Roofs sagged inward; beams jutted at broken angles. A rusted pump stood in the center square, surrounded by the hollow shells of houses. The ground was marked with tracks. And not old ones.
Julian stopped beside him, scanning the ruins. “Abandoned, but not empty. You smell it?”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “Blood.”
“Two days, maybe three.”
They moved in together, weapons drawn. Dominic’s knife gleamed once in the dim light, Julian’s thin sword tapping against his shoulder.
The place felt wrong. It was too still. To empty. There should have been the scent of decay, signs of scavengers, but everything had been scrubbed away.
Dominic crouched beside a fire pit near the center. “Burned to the ground,” he muttered, sifting ash between his fingers. “Bones in here. Animal or human, I can’t tell.”
Julian’s eyes flicked to the remains. “They burned what they ate. More cautious than they normally act.”
Dominic looked up sharply. “You think they were nesting here?”
“Passing through,” Julian said. “Resting. Maybe testing the border.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “Testing me.”
Julian didn’t correct him.
They circled the ruins slowly, methodically. Snow had drifted into the doorways, muffling their steps. The only sound was the whisper of Julian’s coat and the faint rasp of their breathing.
Dominic’s mind kept returning, unbidden, to Layla’s name. She found this place, or something close enough to lead Julian here. He tried to tell himself it was a coincidence, but it felt wrong. It was too precise, too personal.
There was no such thing as a coincidence.
He’d spent years training himself not to think of her. And now, every breath of cold air seemed to carry her scent. Faint, bookish, something like lavender and dust. It made him angry.
“You’re distracted,” Julian said quietly.
Dominic glanced at him, the words sharp. “No.”
Julian wisely did not test him further.
They reached the edge of the settlement, where the ground sloped down toward the frozen creek. The remains of a bridge jutted from the snow, its timbers split. Beyond it, the forest rose again, branches clawing towards them.
Julian crouched to examine the ground. “Tracks heading east,” he murmured. “At least six individuals. Some heavier than others.”
Dominic knelt beside him. The footprints were broad, too long for wolves, clawed at the tips. “Hybrids.”
Julian nodded. “And fresh.”
Dominic grinned, “We’re close.”
“Close enough to get killed,” Julian said, standing. “They’re not amateurs. The pattern’s deliberate. They know how to cover a trail.”
Dominic scanned the trees, the cold wind cutting across his face. “They don’t know who’s following it.”
He started forward.
Julian’s voice stopped him. “Wait.” He lifted his head, nostrils flaring. “Dominic,” he murmured.
Dominic stilled. “What?”
“Something’s here.”
Dominic’s eyes flicked across the clearing. “Where?”
Julian looked around, his movements sharp and precise. He gestured toward the half-collapsed chapel at the edge of the square. “Inside. Now.”
They moved quickly, slipping through the narrow doorway. The interior was dark, the air heavy with old soot. Dominic took up position beside the shattered window while Julian crouched near the door, sword in hand.
Outside, something in the forest stirred. Then came the sound, distant, rhythmic. Footsteps.
Dominic’s pulse slowed to a predator’s tempo. He could hear voices now, low and guttural.
Julian’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes went sharp. “Company,” he mouthed.
Dominic nodded once, every muscle in his body coiled tight.
The footsteps drew closer, crunching through the snow, accompanied by the occasional rasp of laughter that didn’t sound human.
Julian risked a glance through the crack in the wall. “Three. Maybe four. Hybrids.”
Dominic’s grip tightened on his knife. “We take them.”
Julian’s hand shot out, catching his wrist before he could move. “No.”
Dominic glared at him. “They’re right there.”
“And if we attack, we learn nothing.” Julian’s voice was a whisper. “You want to hunt them? Then listen.”
Dominic hesitated, jaw clenched, fury barely contained.
Julian released him slowly, cautiously. “Patience, Alpha.”
Dominic forced himself still, every instinct screaming to break cover.
Outside, the hybrids passed between the ruined buildings, their movements jerky but purposeful. One sniffed the air, too close. Another laughed, high and gleeful.
“…soft wolves,” one of them hissed, words thick and slurred, “…the Alpha’s no warrior, not like his father, his pack’s next…”
Dominic’s blood went cold, then hot.
Julian’s eyes flicked to him, warning silent but sharp.
Dominic didn’t move. Not yet.
The hybrids lingered a few minutes longer, muttering in their strange voices, then moved on, vanishing into the trees the way they’d come.
Only when the last sound faded did Julian lower his weapon.
Dominic exhaled hard, the air shaking with restraint. “You should’ve let me kill them.”
Julian straightened, calm as ever. “And lose the trail they just gave us? No. Let them think they’re unseen. They’ll lead us to the main settlement.”
Dominic’s jaw worked, but he didn’t argue.
He stepped out into the open again, scanning the forest where the hybrids had disappeared. Snow fell harder now, erasing their tracks almost immediately.
Julian joined him, watching quietly. “We’ll need to move fast if we want to follow them. But not tonight.”
Dominic didn’t respond. His gaze was fixed on the dark line of the trees.
He could still hear their laughter. Still feel the ghost of their words.
His hand tightened on the knife until his knuckles whitened.
“Next time,” he said softly.
Julian’s mouth curved faintly in the moonlight.