Chapter 17 - Dominic #2
Dominic lowered his head, sniffed the air. The stench of death was overwhelming, thick and final.
Yes. It was dead.
But the wrongness lingered. He could feel it. Hybrids were not natural creatures.
He turned back toward Layla. She hadn’t moved. Her breathing came in short, shallow bursts.
For a heartbeat, he didn’t know what to do. The part of him still wild with adrenaline wanted to close the distance, to nudge her, to feel that she was alive, unharmed. But another part, the human part, was afraid of what she’d see in him right now.
Blood. Fangs. Fury.
Monster.
He stayed where he was, caught between the two halves of himself, breath coming hard in the frozen air.
The moon broke through the clouds for an instant, spilling pale light over the clearing. It touched her hair, her face, the streaks of dirt and blood on her cheek.
Her lips parted as if to speak, but no sound came out.
Dominic’s chest tightened.
He took one slow step forward, snow crunching underfoot.
He whined, a low, questioning sound, lowering himself to the ground.
She looked up. Their eyes met.
For a moment, everything else, the stench, the blood, the cold, fell away.
And then the hybrid’s body twitched.
It was small, almost nothing, just a flicker of movement in the corpse’s ruined throat.
But after the noise, the blood, the chaos, it was enough to send every nerve in Dominic’s body snapping taut.
He was on it in a heartbeat. The snow sprayed as he moved, claws digging in, teeth bared in a silent snarl. But the hybrid didn’t rise again. Its body slumped to one side, the twitch proving nothing more than the final echo of dying muscle.
Still, he didn’t look away until the stench of rot thickened, until the silence became absolute.
Only then did he step back.
Steam rose from his body, blood mingling with melted snow. His breath came fast, misting in the cold.
All he could hear was her breathing.
She hadn’t moved. Still crouched near the tree, arms wrapped around herself, shoulders shaking. Her face was pale, her eyes glassy, her lips parted in shallow, uneven breaths.
The sight struck him harder than any blow.
He shifted before he realized he was doing it. Bones realigned, fur receded, skin returned, the change tearing through him like molten iron. The cold bit instantly at bare skin, but he ignored it. The world felt raw and bright in human senses, every smell sharper, every sound too close.
He crossed the distance slowly, his feet crunching over frost and blood. Theodore and Julian stayed where they were, silent shadows at the edge of the clearing.
When he reached her, he crouched down.
“Layla.”
Her head jerked up at the sound of his voice. For a heartbeat, she just stared, as if trying to reconcile the man before her with the beast that had torn through the night.
Then her body folded.
The sob broke out of her in one violent shudder, her arms lifting before she seemed to even decide to move. She pressed herself against him desperately, clinging to him as though she could anchor herself to his warmth.
Dominic froze.
For a moment, he didn’t trust himself to breathe. She was shaking so hard he could feel the tremors through his chest. He could smell the salt of her tears, the sharp tang of her fear. Her heartbeat thundered against his ribs.
He closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around her.
“It’s over,” he said quietly, though his voice was raw. “You’re safe.”
She shook her head against him, her breath breaking on words he couldn’t make out. He caught fragments, something about the aurora, about her dreams, about proof, but they came out tangled in sobs.
Her fingers scrabbled against his bare chest. She was speaking through gasps now, the words coming sharper, half-formed, “I saw them,” she choked out, “the lights. I saw what I dreamed, and I thought—I thought if I told you it had happened again, that you’d believe me this time.”
He stiffened. Although he’d figured as much, the words still hit like a blow.
She tilted her head back to look at him, eyes red-rimmed and wet. “You don’t believe me,” she said, voice breaking. “You never did. I thought if I could prove it-”
Her breath hitched, and the rest came out in a whisper, “I just wanted to help. You wouldn’t have let me come if I’d told you.”
He didn’t answer. Because it was true.
He exhaled slowly, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. “You could have been killed.”
Her voice was quiet. “I know.”
The words scraped something raw inside him. He didn’t want to picture it, her body torn open, her blood in the snow, but the images forced their way in.
His hand clenched reflexively on her shoulder, then eased. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, almost a whisper.
She didn’t respond. Just sagged against him, exhausted, trembling.
Over her head, he glanced toward the tree line. Theodore stood a few feet back, his eyes wide and uncertain. Julian lingered beside him, expression unreadable, gaze flicking between the three of them.
Dominic met Julian’s eyes and gave a single, silent nod.
Julian hesitated, a fractional pause, then turned away, nudging Theodore’s flank. The two wolves began moving back toward the trees, their figures melting into the dark.
The clearing felt suddenly, achingly still.
Dominic looked down again. Layla’s sobs had quieted, but her breath still came fast. Her fingers were cold where they clutched at him. He shifted his hold, trying to share his body heat, trying to make the shaking stop.
“It’s all right,” he murmured again, “you’re safe now.”
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper, “I was about to call Theodore. To come and get me. I didn’t…I…I thought about calling you.”
He shut his eyes tight, breathing in her scent. “Why didn’t you?”
She sniffled, “Because of how angry I knew you’d be.”
He almost smiled, not amusement, just raw relief at her ability to at least attempt a joke. “Trust me, mutt, I’m absolutely furious with you.” At her nervous glance up, he couldn’t resist pressing his lips into her hair. “But there’s time enough for that. We need to get you home.”
Her lashes lifted slowly. The look she gave him was a mix of defiance and heartbreak.
“I just wanted you to believe me,” she said miserably, “I know I’m a burden to the pack.
The stupid little girl who never shifted.
I just thought that…these visions…that I might at last be able to be useful. To earn my place, like my brother did.”
Her words carved straight through the armor he’d built over the years, the layers of harsh cruelty, duty, and restraint. He’d thought her defiance was recklessness. Now, holding her, he realized it was desperation. The kind born of never being believed in. The kind that came from relentless attack.
Attack he’d been partly responsible for.
He drew in a slow breath and pressed his forehead to hers. “You don’t need to prove anything,” he said quietly.
She went still at that, her breath catching, her eyes closing.
Dominic stayed like that for a long time, unmoving, until her trembling began to ease.
When he finally pulled back, her eyes fluttered open. There was exhaustion there, and confusion, and something else he couldn’t name.
“Come on,” he said gently, “you’re freezing.”
She glanced down, her cheeks staining red. “Um…I mean, I’m not the one who’s…”
He looked down at his naked form and huffed a laugh. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. I’ve got a fur coat I can put on.”
He made to move, and her fingers tightened against his shoulders, as if afraid he’d vanish if she let go.
He didn’t.
He rose to his feet, pulling her with him, one steadying arm around her as she swayed. She leaned into him without protest, too tired to argue.
For now, that was enough.