Chapter 13 - Dominic
Dominic was about ready to collapse. After meeting with Arthur and the rest of the high-ranking Nordan, he had joined them on several fruitless scouting missions out into the forest. When he returned with no leads to speak of, Julian had forced him to sleep, reminding him he’d been on his feet for well over twenty-four hours.
A few restless hours on a couch in the corner of the Chilkat Inn, the Nordans’ main hub, was all he managed before he was awoken by shouts.
The two missing scouts had been found.
At least, their mangled remains had.
The next few hours had passed in a blur of orders, of strategy meetings, of defense talks, and planning. Julian had taken over when it became apparent Dominic was about to drop from lack of sleep, his eerie ability to forge through any exhaustion becoming vital.
Dominic had clapped Arthur on the back and left the Chilkat Inn with a promise to be back first thing in the morning.
He was halfway down the street when a hand caught his arm.
“Dominic.”
Theodore stood, eyes rimmed red from lack of sleep, his uniform jacket unbuttoned at the collar. He looked more like the boy Dominic had trained beside than the lieutenant he’d become. But the steel in his grip was all grown male.
“What?” Dominic said, sharper than intended.
Theodore flinched slightly, his throat bobbing. “Where are you going?”
“The Anchor,” Dominic said, running his hand through his hair. “I want to check on my…on your sister before I head home.”
“She doesn’t need you right now,” Theodore said, stepping into his path, “she needs space. This all happened so quickly.”
Dominic stared at him for a beat, then brushed his arm free. “She’s my mate. I’ll decide what she needs.”
“You’re exhausted. Trust me, if you try and talk to her right now, it’ll end badly.”
“I don’t care,” Dominic growled, stalking past him.
“You should,” Theodore said, rushing to keep up. “I’m only trying to help, Dom.”
“I appreciate your concern,” the words came out low, dangerous, “but you don’t get it. The bond between us…I’m not in a state to control it right now. I need to see her.”
“She’s also exhausted,” Theodore shot back, “vulnerable. You’ve tied her to a life she didn’t choose, in front of a pack that already half-hates her. I don’t want her getting the wrong idea.”
Dominic’s jaw tightened. “And what idea is that?”
Theodore paused a moment. “That this mating is…anything more than political.”
“You don’t want me hurting her feelings? She’s a grown woman, Theo. She can handle herself.”
“I’m not so sure,” Theodore said. “I mean, you heard her. All excited about her dreams. She’s not thinking rationally right now.”
“So you don’t believe her?”
“Why should I?”
Dominic growled, “Because she had a dream about a white wolf being torn apart, and within an hour, a scout from the Nordan pack, famously always white in color, was ripped to shreds.”
Theodore’s eyes narrowed. “Coincidence.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I believe my sister has always lived too much in her head,” Theodore said. “She reads too many stories, fills the gaps with fantasy. You’re giving meaning to a nightmare because it just so happened to occur after a sacred mating.”
Dominic’s fists curled slowly at his sides. “You think I wanted this?”
“I think you need it,” Theodore said, quieter now but no less sharp. “The pack’s restless. The hybrids are moving. Leonid’s watching. You need to show strength. A so-called true mating that grants alphas special powers seems like the perfect dose of hope. And my sister was convenient.”
Dominic stepped forward, close enough that the tension between them shifted. “Careful, Hawthorne.”
Theodore didn’t back away. “No one else will say it to your face.”
Dominic looked down at him. Theodore was only an inch shorter, but in this light, the difference felt wider. “You think I’m using her,” he said, quieter now, deadly calm. “That I stood there before my pack, before Lunarion Himself, and bound myself to a woman I didn’t want, just for politics?”
“I think you’re lying to yourself about why,” Theodore said.
Something flared in Dominic’s chest. Rage, maybe, or something darker and more painful.
“Stay out of my way,” Dominic said quietly.
“You make that hard,” Theodore answered.
Dominic didn’t reply. He pushed past his best friend, his lieutenant, more set than ever on seeing his mate.
“Do whatever you want,” Theo called after him, his words dark, “just don’t let yourself fall for her delusions. She’s not having visions. She’s just dreaming. Make sure you’re wide awake.”
Dominic paused for a second, considering.
But he didn’t turn. He left Theodore out in the cold and headed towards his mate.
***
The walk down to The Anchor was short, but it felt longer than any battlefield march Dominic had ever made.
The fog clung low over Skymist, softening the world into shapes of gray and silver, the sky darkening. Somewhere far off, the tide turned, pulling back from the stones with a hiss.
He stopped outside the tavern door. For a moment, he just stood there, listening to the creak of the sign above him, to the faint hum of voices somewhere deeper inside, to the bond tugging his chest. Then he pushed the door open.
Inside, the bar had a few exhausted figures draped over benches and against the bar. He moved silently past them, towards the stairs. Footsteps sounded above, faint, wooden creaks as someone paced the floorboards.
Layla.
Dominic climbed the stairs, the old building groaning under his weight. When he reached her door, he didn’t knock right away. He could hear her moving, the rhythm sharp and uneven. Five steps, turn, five steps, turn again.
He exhaled once through his nose and rapped softly on the door. “Layla.”
There was a pause, and then her voice, quiet and wary. “Come in.”
He opened the door.
She stood in the middle of the room, hair loose around her face, ill-fitting clothes baggy on her frame. The window behind her was fogged, evening light dull and silver. She looked like she hadn’t slept at all.
“I was expecting Theodore,” she said.
“He’s busy,” Dominic replied. “So am I.”
“Yet you’re here.”
He ignored the jab and stepped inside, closing the door behind him. “You didn’t sleep well. I could feel it.”
Her eyes flicked to his. “You felt it?”
He hesitated before answering. “The bond runs both ways.”
Layla crossed her arms. “Then maybe you felt what it’s like to be caged.”
Dominic’s jaw worked. “No one’s caging you.”
“Then why,” she said, gritting her teeth together, “when I tried to leave earlier, was I stopped by one of your guards?”
He raised an eyebrow. “My orders. You’re Luna now. And until we get to the bottom of the attacks—”
She laughed, short and humorless. “Luna? Seriously? It was my understanding that the Luna had some powers of command over the pack!”
“Not greater powers than the Alpha,” he replied quietly.
She fixed him with a hard glare. “So can I go?”
“Go where?”
“Home. Obviously.”
He fixed his gaze out the window, ‘No.’
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she scoffed, dipping into a curtsy, “may I please go, oh high-and-mighty Alpha?”
He hissed through his teeth, “I’m not in the mood for your attitude.”
“And I’m not in the mood for you.”
“Layla,” he growled in warning.
Her teeth shut with an audible click as she looked down at her feet, color rising in her cheeks. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.”
He laughed, low and humorless, before collapsing into the small chair in the corner. “Not so uncalled for.”
After a beat, she shuffled backwards to sit on the bed and glanced up at him. “Have you slept?”
“A little,” he admitted, rubbing at his temples. “Not nearly enough.”
“And you haven’t found the other two scouts?”
He sighed through his nose, shoulders tensing as his gaze fixed on some point past the window.
Layla shifted, the sheets rustling beneath her. “Ah. I see.”
“We’re trying to pick up a trail, but there are so many scents,” he said, nearly growling. “All branching out from one another before fading away. It’s enough to drive you crazy.”
She was silent for a moment, staring down at her feet, tugging her lip between her teeth. If he weren’t so tired, the sight of it might have made his blood heat.
But he was exhausted. Truly, to the bone, exhausted.
“I think I could help,” she said, voice snapping through his brooding.
He leaned back, eyeing her. “Ah, yes, your dream.”
She nodded fiercely, jumping to her feet, pacing the floor in front of him. He tracked her movements, tapping a finger against the wooden arm of the chair, letting her spill out the speech she’d clearly been working towards.
“As I said last night, or…this morning…downstairs! Sorry, it’s all kind of muddled together since our…um…when we…”
“I remember,” he said, a sardonic twist to his tone. She threw him a look.
“Anyway, I told you, I don’t think it was just a dream. It was so real, so tangible! And just now, when I was asleep, I had another one! This time, a shadow cuts through the woods, leaving a trail of blood. It was so clear, Dominic, I swear I can still feel the snow…”
He listened as she carried on, describing the woods, the blood, the pale, empty sky.
She hadn’t noticed using his name instead of his title, had been speaking it more and more frequently, but it still tugged something in him.
She said it so easily, so quickly, so…so genuinely.
There was no harsh edge of anger, no rot of fear.
Just his name. Spoken like that. Quick and easy and light.
He swallowed.
Fuck.
“—followed the trail, I could lead you! I know I can’t shift, but if I—”
“Layla,” he said gently, leaning forward, bracing his arms on his knees, “just pause for a second. Take a breath.”
She halted before him, hands folding over themselves, her eyes bright and nervous.
He dragged his hand down his face. “Look, Theodore said that you’ve always had quite vivid dreams, and I think in the excitement, maybe you’re reading into it. Seeing things that aren’t there.”
Layla stared at him. For a heartbeat, she looked as though she hadn’t understood the words, and then her face hardened. “And you believe him?”
“Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because I’m telling you so,” she said, her voice frosting over, “and he’s lying. I’ve never had particularly vivid dreams. Not before this. And if I did, I certainly wouldn’t have told him about them.”
“He’s your brother. He knows you.”
“And I know him. I’m telling you, he only said that because he doesn’t want me causing trouble, or reflecting badly on him.”
Dominic’s voice stayed calm, but his shoulders stiffened. “I know him, too. He’s my best friend. He’s just trying to protect you.”
“From what? From myself?”
“From the very real danger in the woods,” Dominic said. “He doesn’t want you chasing after hybrids because you had a dream about some trail! And neither do I, for that matter.”
“So you don’t believe me,” she said, swallowing sharply. “You think they are just dreams.”
“I…” he trailed off with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, “I just want to keep everyone in the pack safe. I want to support Arthur and the rest of the Nordan. I don’t want to give them false hope if I have any doubt whatsoever about your…whatever they are.”
She laughed, hollow and bitter, turning round and stalking towards the window. Her silhouette shone in the last dying rays of the sun, and for a moment, he allowed himself to just admire her figure.
He didn’t like doing this. Didn’t like causing her pain, much to his chagrin.
But what was he supposed to do? Launch a whole expedition on her word alone? She may be Luna, but she hadn’t held the position for yet a day, and the pack had no reason to trust her. No reason to follow him if he pinned his whole strategy on her supposed intuition.
“Go back to bed,” he said finally, voice raw. “We’ll talk when there’s more information.”
“Get out,” she whispered without turning.
The silence between them was thick and choking. Then she brushed past him and opened the window, letting the sea wind rush in. It swept through the room, cold and clean, but it couldn’t clear the air between them.
“Layla—”
“No,” she rounded on him, fists bunched, face lined with heartbreak and fury, “you won’t even hear me out.
Won’t even send one scout on the route I’ve seen.
You’ve shown me exactly how much respect you have for me.
I’m such an idiot,” she turned back to the window, folding into herself, “such an idiot.”
“You’re not—”
“Don’t,” she snapped, eyes narrowing, “don’t even try.”
He ignored her. “It’s not just one scout. That’s not how things work. You’d know that if you—”
She turned, eyes ablaze, and he shut his mouth. “If I what?”
“That’s not what I—”
“If I what, Dominic? If I was part of the pack?”
He met her furious eyes, slowly rising to his feet.
Twin instincts roared inside him, one commanding him to cow her, to force her submission, the other urging him to take her into his arms and kiss away any insecurities she had.
To reassure her that she was his now, and that meant more than any vapid opinion of the pack.
But he did neither. Merely looked at her, silently willing her to understand.
She didn’t.
“Get out,” she said again, her voice final.
He hesitated, every muscle screaming to stay. But he did as she asked.
The door closed between them, quiet, but echoing through his head.
Through the wood, he heard the first few sniffles of tears, and he rounded and stalked away. He didn’t want to hear her cry. He didn’t care if that made him a coward.
Because the truth was, if he stayed, nothing would stop him from breaking his promise. From reaching out and taking her as her mate, as her Alpha.