Chapter 11 - Dominic
Dominic had gone straight to The Anchor.
He needed a drink.
Hell, he needed several.
Silence fell as the door slammed open, the gathered alphas falling silent as he stalked inside. The fire was burning hot, the drinks flowing, but the atmosphere was tense. Sharp. The celebration that should have marked the Alpha’s union had decayed into a tense, murmured gathering.
Dominic stood at the head of the room, hands clasped behind his back, watching the remainder of his alphas gather cautiously around him.
He noticed Theodore in the corner, eyes slightly glazed, anger glinting nevertheless.
Julian stood slightly apart, dark gaze keeping vigil.
There was a drink in his hand, though it remained untouched.
He felt the room’s mood deep in his stomach. He stood tall regardless.
The floorboards creaked as Rhett Calder stepped forward. He was broader than when they were teenagers, muscles overtaking the skinny, nervous edges to him. He’d become bolder in recent years, too, cockier than most.
If he was being entirely honest, Dominic had been surprised when he hadn’t followed Leonid north of the mountains. He’d always preferred the more savage ways.
“Alpha,” Rhett began, bowing just enough to keep form. His voice was loud. It was meant for the whole room, not just him. “Some of us…don’t understand.”
Dominic’s head turned slightly. “Clarify.”
Rhett’s mouth tightened, “No male here would dare question the will of Lunarion”—a pause—“but your mate—”
Dominic’s gaze sharpened.
Rhett swallowed, bravado faltering. “She’s…not one of us. She’s as good as an outcast. And worse…” he hesitated, but the press of his comrades seemed to bolster him, and he straightened. “She can’t even shift. The bond’s meant to strengthen us, Alpha. Not embarrass us.”
A low sound rippled through the room, half agreement, half warning. Someone shifted their weight. Someone else coughed.
Dominic didn’t speak.
He walked forward instead, each step deliberate, the echo of his boots striking the floor. The crowd parted instinctively. When he reached Rhett, they were eye to eye. The male didn’t flinch, but Dominic saw the pulse jump in his throat.
“You think God errs,” Dominic said softly.
Rhett shook his head, but it was too late. “No, Alpha, never—”
Dominic’s fist moved faster than sound. With a crack, Rhett’s head snapped sideways, the impact ringing like a slap of thunder. He staggered, caught himself, then straightened, blood already on his lip.
The others froze.
Julian materialized like a ghost behind his shoulder, ready and waiting if he was needed.
He wasn’t.
Dominic closed the remaining space, seizing Rhett by the front of his sweater, and drove him backward into the nearest pillar. Wood splintered. The male grunted, struggling to breathe.
“I am the Alpha of this pack,” Dominic said, voice low, each word heavy and blunt. “I protect it. Protect all of you. I’ll kill for it if I have to. And when God calls, I answer. You will not question the choices I make.”
Rhett’s eyes darted toward the watching faces, pleading.
Dominic’s grip tightened. “Say it.”
“Alpha—”
“Say it.”
Rhett’s breath came ragged. “I…I don’t question God.”
Dominic held him a moment longer, watching a trickle of blood trail down his chin. Then he released him. Rhett crumpled to his knees, coughing, his pride in tatters.
The hall was utterly still. Only the fire crackled.
Dominic turned slowly, his gaze sweeping the room. The silence of submission was deafening.
“Anyone else?” he asked.
No one met his eyes.
He let the moment stretch until it became unbearable. Then, very softly, he said, “Good.”
He crossed back to the bar, wiping the smear of blood from his knuckles onto his sleeve. Behind him, two alphas stepped forward to haul Rhett to his feet. The man didn’t resist, didn’t speak. He just bowed his head, his breath a wet rasp.
Dominic didn’t look back.
He stared into the fire instead.
This was what leadership threatened to become.
Fear in place of faith, silence instead of loyalty.
He’d never wanted it to come to this. During his father’s rule, Volkhov power had been built on discipline and strength, not devotion or protection.
Dominic had fought to change that. He’d seen how weak it truly made them.
He’d promised himself never to rule like a tyrant.
And yet the weight of their stares tonight pressed heavily.
He could almost hear them thinking. He’s lost it. He’s lost control. The God’s chosen a broken mate, and now he’s proving her weakness is his own.
The thought twisted something deep in his chest. He took a slow breath, forcing his anger down.
Dominic turned his attention to the bar beside the fire, to the bottles littering the surface. He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light, and took a slow swallow.
Across the room, Theodore stood near the wall, pale and drunk. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Theodore looked away.
Dominic said nothing. Instead, he drained his drink and left the bar.
Behind him, the whisper of movement resumed, the scrape of boots, the soft murmur of voices, the sound of wolves uncertain of their master.
He closed his fist and started up the stairs.
His office windows were open to the sea, letting the cold seep in. He moved around the room methodically, turning on lamps, straightening maps, trying to drown out the whispers from the bar below.
The door creaked open just as he sat down behind the desk, footsteps falling deliberately loudly.
“Shut the door,” Dominic said.
Julian did, the latch catching with a soft click. “You left blood on the pillar,” he said mildly.
“Rhett will live.”
“I wasn’t worried about Rhett.”
Dominic didn’t look up. “Speak plainly.”
“This isn’t how you do things, Alpha,” Julian said, leaning against the desk. His words were mild, more observance that accusation.
“It needed to be done.”
Julian’s head tilted. “Perhaps. Any alpha knows not to insult another’s mate. But you’re not just any alpha. They expect an explanation. And they won’t tolerate you beating them into submission for long.”
Dominic’s jaw worked. “I gave them an explanation. If they don’t believe it, they can deal with you.”
Julian stood, his dark eyes sparking. “If you expect me to be your muscle, then at least tell me why you won’t be honest about why you truly mated her.”
Dominic snarled, the chair clattering as he got to his feet. “I require obedience, Rook, not questioning. I don’t answer to anybody.”
“You answer to the pack,” Julian replied, voice soft, “and until today, you lived by that principle. It’s why I swore loyalty to you.”
“Is that what this is?” Dominic growled. “Your loyalty is dependent on how much you agree with the choices I make? Will you betray me now, Julian?”
For a single, terrifying moment, Julian met his gaze in quiet challenge, as if he was truly considering it.
Dominic’s throat went dry.
But then Julian scowled, a rare show of emotion. “That wouldn’t make me loyal, Alpha. I meant the words when I swore them. It would take more than this to sway my faith in you.”
Slowly, Dominic nodded. “But?”
Julian crossed his arms. “Tell me. Why did you choose her?”
Dominic considered him. Then sighed, long and hard. “I told you already. It was the will of Lunarion. I felt the calling.”
“But…” Julian’s voice was calculating, and then comprehension dawned. “Ah. I see. I thought you were just saying that for the sake of the pack. But you weren’t.”
Dominic’s eyes narrowed. “Look, I can’t explain it more than anybody else—”
He held up a hand. “There’s no need to, Alpha. These things work in mysterious ways. But the problem is, I’m not confident that the more…aggressive members of the pack will accept such an explanation. You’ve never shown particular devotion to Lunarion before.”
“They’re going to have to.”
Julian raised an eyebrow. “Leonid will receive word about this by morning. You need to consider the fact that—”
“Don’t bring him into this,” Dominic hissed. “If he comes anywhere near her, tries anything at all—”
“Your mate will be protected,” Julian said, “that I promise. I’m more concerned about deserters.”
Dominic growled, glaring down at the desk, “Surely this is not grounds for desertion.”
“We’re wolves,” said Julian simply, “strength is everything. You need to show them all that this bond makes you stronger. If your instincts are right, and this is a true mating, that means you’ll be granted special gifts by Lunarion. Make sure you use them in front of the pack.”
“About that,” Dominic said, “when can I expect these so-called powers to appear—”
He stopped dead. Something inside him twisted and wrenched. It wasn’t him, though.
It was her. Fear. The taste of blood.
He was moving before he had time to reconsider.
***
“Layla!” He slammed the bookshop door open, the wood cracking as it struck the wall. It might have been locked. It didn’t matter. “Layla!”
The shop was dark. He spun about wildly, scenting the air, rage and panic battling within him. And then—
“Dominic?” Her small voice came from the kitchen, and then she appeared, bundled tight in a blanket. “What are you doing here?”
He crossed the room in three strides, grasping her by the shoulders, checking her up and down for wounds. “What is it? What happened?”
“I…” she swallowed, too shocked to stop him scenting her. “I had a dream. A nightmare.”
Dominic growled, “You’re shaking.”
She stepped backwards, and he felt the loss of contact keenly.
“It’s nothing,” she said, pulling the blanket tighter. Behind him, he was dimly aware of Julian entering the shop, tutting at the ruined door.
“I felt—” he stopped himself, jaw working. “I thought you were in danger. That you were…being attacked.”
She let out a breath, eyes wide. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m sorry. It was just…a very vivid dream. More vivid than any I’ve had before.”
Julian stepped forward. “What happened?”
Layla’s eyes darted between them. “I saw something.” The words tumbled out, uneven and breathless. “There was a figure, it glowed, and it said I was marked. And then—” Her throat bobbed, “There was a wolf. White as snow. It was torn apart,” Layla’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I felt it dying.”
Dominic’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “That was it?”
She looked at him fearfully then. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you—”
“More vivid than any dream you’ve had before?” Julian cut in suddenly, eyes bright.
Layla nodded cautiously. “I could still smell the blood when I woke.”
Julian’s lips pressed tight together.
Groaning, Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “If I’m going to feel it every time you have a bad dream—”
“I’m sorry,” Layla said again, exhaustion coating her words, making her throat sound tight. “I’ll…I’ll try and control it. I don’t normally dream like that.”
He looked at her, trembling slightly in her blanket, and just sighed. Tiredness seeped into his very bones.
“It’s not your fault. We’ll find a way to deal with—”
“Alpha!” the voice came from the door, urgent and rough. Dominic turned. Chase, second-in-command of the Nordan, more sprightly and youthful than his ice-bear older brother, stood panting in the doorway. “I’m sorry, the males at The Anchor said you’d left in a hurry, I followed your scent, I—”
He stumbled in, and Dominic lurched forward, reaching out to steady him. “What is it, what’s happened?”
Chase swallowed, “Arthur sent me to tell you. There’s been an attack.”
Dominic’s pulse stilled. “Who?”
“One of ours,” Chase said. “A scout who was patrolling the northern forest. We found him near the border trail.”
Layla made a small sound behind Dominic, but he didn’t turn. “How?”
“Savaged,” Chase swallowed again. “Not animal. Not human, either. It looks like—” he stopped himself, eyes flicking toward Layla—“it looks like hybrids.”
The word hung there, heavy as stone.
Dominic took a step forward. “Was he alone?”
“Two others missing,” Chase said, “we’re still searching.”
A cold wind coiled through the open door.
Dominic’s mind narrowed to a single thought. Layla’s dream, the white wolf torn apart, and now a Nordan corpse in the forest before dawn.
He turned finally, looking at her. Her face was still pale, her eyes wide with horror.
Dominic rounded back to Chase and said, very quietly, “Show me.”
Chase nodded, stepping back into the dark corridor.
Dominic glanced at Layla once more. She was trembling again, blanket drawn tight around her shoulders, tears drying on her cheeks.
“Come with me,” he said, “I’ll drop you off at The Anchor. Your brother’s there.”
She didn’t argue, just took his outstretched hand and followed him into the night.