Chapter 5 - Dominic
Dominic Volkhov sat in the half-dark of his study, the scent of woodsmoke and the distant ocean breeze thick in the air.
The maps before him blurred at the edges, their inked borders swimming in the flicker of firelight.
Patrol routes, suspected hybrid trails, recent sightings.
Every single detail burned into his mind.
The hybrids were moving closer. He could feel it.
Not just in the reports Julian sent, but in the air.
The very mountains. Call it a wolf’s intuition.
He knew better than to question it. For five years, he’d held Skymist together through discipline and loyalty, through the uncompromising protection of his borders.
But this was different. This was no individual threat, quickly recognized, easily dispatched.
This was something bigger than he had ever faced.
He leaned back in his chair, exhaling hard through his nose. The whiskey in the glass beside him had gone untouched, its surface still and amber in the dying light.
He’d been turning the encounter in Voskresen over and over in his mind. He still wasn’t sure letting the few passing hybrids live had been wise, but there was no use dwelling on it. They’d have moved on by now.
Part of him was curious. He’d seen hybrids before, but only a handful.
Never a threat. They had been strange creatures, malnourished and half-shifted.
Their eyes seemed to carry madness. He’d never had a conversation with one.
He’d half thought they were incapable of it.
Centuries of being trapped in the shadows surely had to have had some effect on them.
But something had changed. They’d gotten smarter, more disciplined over their forms, such that they could appear as humans. Or something close to it.
The truth was, there was too much still unknown. And that was dangerous. It put his pack in danger.
His gaze drifted back to the map, but his thoughts were already wandering down that thread, slipping toward the one name he’d forbidden himself to think.
Layla.
It started as an irritation, like a splinter. He tried to push her out, to bring his focus back to strategy, to logistics, to anything but her voice. But memory had a cruel sense of timing. And he’d always felt far more protective of her than perhaps he should.
She’d seemed so scared in the bookshop the other night.
But still defiant. Always that spark of defiance.
The moment she’d looked up, meeting his eyes, he’d felt that old, traitorous pull, something that wasn’t supposed to exist anymore.
He’d buried it long ago, along with everything else he’d been before the Alpha’s mantle closed over him.
Dominic dragged a hand down his face. The fire hissed, collapsing on itself.
He should never have gone there. Julian could have handled it.
He told himself it was a precaution, that Layla’s information on hybrid patterns was worth verifying, but even he could see the weakness of the lie.
He’d gone because something in him had needed to see her.
Needed to know she was still there, still breathing, still safe.
He hated that. Hated how thinking of her made everything else blur.
Layla Hawthorne. Self-identified outcast and the sister of his oldest friend. A reminder of every line he was never meant to cross.
He thought he’d firmly locked their past away, never to be revisited. But the cracks were still there, their history bleeding through.
He poured more whiskey and swallowed it without tasting it.
Outside, the wind had picked up. He could hear it moaning against the shutters, the whisper of pines bending toward the sea. Skymist had always been restless. Founded by nomads, hemmed in by forest and tide. A fortress with two fully matured packs, but every fortress cracked eventually.
Especially when the threat wasn’t just outside the walls.
Dominic’s thoughts turned, unwillingly, to the Volnoye Pack.
Leonid hadn’t acknowledged the hybrid threat. Why should he? If Dominic sent word, it would be an admission of weakness. An acknowledgement of the legitimacy of the Volnoye.
Dominic didn’t want to send any such message.
There was no chance Leonid was unaware of the threat building.
When Dominic had risen against his father, made it clear he wanted a break from the old savagery, and Leonid had taken some of his father’s best fighters with him when he left.
Hunters, trackers, warriors. Males who knew their brute strength and relished it.
Perhaps he was waiting for the hybrids to weaken the Volkhov Pack before he came to finish it off. Everyone had thought that it would be him to inherit the Alpha’s throne. When Dominic instead had claimed it…
Leonid had been a brother to him, once.
No longer.
Not after what he did. The threats he made.
He rose from the chair and crossed to the window. The bay stretched beyond the forest, a dark mirror under the moon. His reflection stared back at him, cold eyes and the weight of five years written into his face.
Somewhere out there, beyond his sight, at the fringes of the pack’s protection, Layla lived alone among her books. He’d told himself that was safer. For her, for everyone. But the thought of her in danger made the wolf in him restless.
He gripped the windowsill until the wood creaked beneath his hands.
She’d always been trouble. Too curious, too reckless. Too…
He didn’t actually have a word for what she was. Not since things had changed between them all those years ago. Not since…
He stopped himself. Pushed the thought away.
There were bigger problems than one female. The hybrids were organizing. The Volnoye Pack was watching. And he needed to stay focused.
Duty first. Always.
Dominic turned back to the desk, forcing his eyes to settle on the map. He traced the paper, his finger following the routes of his patrols, the possible lines of hybrid movement. There were too many variables. Too many mining tunnels beneath the mountains. Too much ground to cover.
All too close to his home.
Skymist. The heart of his pack. The place he had sworn to protect.
And still, under the heavy weight of the whole pack, a single thought crystallized.
She’s not safe.
He shut his eyes, jaw tightening, as if that would make it vanish.
He didn’t see the door open behind him.
The door opened with a low groan, and the scent of cold air and pine creeping into the study before the voice that followed it.
“Still awake?”
Dominic didn’t turn. He knew the sound of the heavy footfalls.
Arthur Nordan was always welcome at his home and hearth, as was Dominic in Nordan territory.
They shared the town, though both packs had their haunts.
And since Dominic had taken over, the relationship between the two had only strengthened.
Dominic was glad of that. They would need strength for the fight ahead.
“Barely,” Dominic said. “What is it?”
“I don’t think we finished our conversation the other night.” Arthur stepped inside and shut the door behind him. “Especially when I get reports that you and your shadow have been tracking hybrids beyond the mountain range.
Dominic half-turned towards him. “How did you…Chase. Of course.”
Arthur crossed to the fire, pulling off his gloves as he went.
The older alpha’s coat was still damp from the mist outside, his beard catching a dull gleam of light.
“You know he half-lives on those trails. He caught your scent, fresh. Didn’t take him long to figure out where you’d been. What was waiting for you in Voskresen?”
Dominic turned then, leaning back against the window frame, shoulders tense, “We received new information. Potential hybrid activity. Turns out, the information was good. They were there, or they had been. We even came across a couple of scouts, but we didn’t engage.”
“You found them?” Arthur’s voice was an angry rumble, filling the room. “And you didn’t think to tell us?”
“It was just an outpost,” Dominic said, unflinching. “You should warn Chase not to travel too far north alone.”
“Chase can handle himself,” Arthur growled, “but I’ll assign more of our patrol on the northern border. I have to say, Dominic, I’m surprised you didn’t come to me sooner with this.”
Dominic’s lip curled. “I wasn’t certain of the…reliability of the source until Julian and I verified it ourselves. I’m still working out what our next move should be.”
“This source of yours,” Arthur said, moving to the table, his hunter’s eyes raking over the map, “does he have any more information?”
Dominic swallowed, his fists clenching against the sudden swell of red. “She.”
Arthur looked up sharply, his nostrils flaring, his brow creasing. “Do you want to explain your scent, Dominic?”
“What about it?” Dominic growled, pushing off the window, bracing his hands on the table.
Arthur just scoffed. “You can fool yourself, boy, but you won’t fool me. This she you speak of, is it who I think it is?”
“She’s nobody of concern,” he replied through gritted teeth.
Arthur huffed, a sound deep in his chest. “Aye, I may not know her name, boy. But that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?” Dominic asked, rounding on him.
Arthur just crossed his enormous arms. “You should mate her. Your pack needs you strong. Resisting will only twist up all your thoughts. It’s inevitable.”
Dominic snarled, fist thumping against the table, teeth bared. “We have the Bay, Arthur. We have control. I am plenty strong.”
“Aye, you are,” Arthur said. “You’ve rebuilt your pack. You’ve kept the border secure, kept your enemies at bay, kept the peace between wolves. But something big is coming.”
Dominic’s tone cooled. “I’m aware of that.”
Arthur leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You’ve been holding the Bay by sheer willpower. That works for a time, but it won’t last forever. The land itself responds to balance. The bond between alpha and mate strengthens it, protects the territory. You know this.”
“We’ve been through this,” he replied.
“Yes, we have,” Arthur said, “and I’m not done.”
“I’m not taking a mate.”
Arthur sighed, slow and deep. “You’re an alpha, you won your place.
I can’t command you. But I can warn you.
You have the opportunity here to increase your power tenfold.
You’ve been given a gift by Lunarion himself.
If it were me, boy, I’d be grasping that chance with both hands, no matter who I’d be giving myself to. ”
“It’s easy enough for you to say.”
“Is that what you think?” Arthur replied, his voice for the first time betraying his frustration.
“You’re not the only one with a pack to protect, Dominic.
I’ve said my prayers to Lunarion every night to send me my mate.
I need to protect my people. And a mate would grant me greater strength to do it.
The fact she evades me still, it’s…” his jaw tightened, the hard lines of his face glowing in the fire, “it’s maddening. ”
Dominic turned away, pacing to the fireplace. They stood in silence, both contemplating their own demons. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Dominic let his head fall to the mantlepiece with a sigh. “It’s complicated, Arthur. Even if I wanted to mate her…she wouldn’t have me.”
“Wouldn’t have you? Alpha of the pack?” Arthur’s voice wasn’t mocking. Just truly bewildered.
Dominic suppressed a snarl. “It’s all too easy to wish for a mate. Lunarion can have an interesting sense of humor.”
Arthur took a steady, considered step towards him. “Whatever your history with this girl,” he said slowly, quietly, almost, “you just have to ask yourself this: Is it more important than the safety of your people?”
Was it, indeed?
Dominic watched as the flames curled and licked the soot-stained stone, smoke billowing up the chimney.
“You should go.”
Arthur finished the last of his drink and rose. He didn’t argue. At the door, he paused.
“Your pack is strong, Dominic,” he said, “but it’s only as strong as the man who leads it. If the bond keeps pulling at you, you can’t lead. You can’t face the threat that’s coming.”
Dominic didn’t move.
Arthur’s hand rested on the door handle. “You can keep pretending you don’t feel it. We’ll all suffer for it.”
The door shut behind him with a soft click.
Dominic didn’t turn from the fire. He stood there long after Arthur’s footsteps faded, the light burning gold across his hands.
He wanted to say Arthur was wrong. That the bond didn’t matter. That she didn’t matter.
But the taste of her name was still in his mouth.
And the fire kept burning lower, no matter how much he willed it to hold.