Epilogue - Dominic
One year later
Laughter filled the bar of The Anchor, echoing up to the rafters. Wolves of both packs mingled at the long tables, their voices bright, their cups full. The storm outside clawed at the windows, but inside, warmth pulsed steady, alive.
Dominic leaned against the bar, one hand wrapped around a glass of cold beer, watching the thrum of activity with a small smile.
Across the room, Layla stood by the fire, her hand resting absently over the curve of her belly as she laughed at something Arthur said.
Her hair caught the firelight in bronze waves, her smile soft but fierce.
There were moments when Dominic still couldn’t believe she was here, his, and still entirely herself.
Arthur, the overgrown bear of a man, grinned at something she said, shaking his head in mock despair.
He’d been teasing Dominic for months about the mating bond, claiming it wasn’t fair that he had managed to find a true mate.
“You got a gift of Lunarion in that battle,” Arthur had told him once, clapping his shoulder hard enough to rattle bone, “and the rest of us got frostbite.”
Dominic had laughed. Mostly.
Now, Arthur stood close to Layla’s side, his voice low, his expression animated. The sight tugged a smile from Dominic despite himself. The male was entranced by the idea of a true mate; he always had been. But Dominic trusted him. He trusted anyone who could make Layla laugh like that.
He took a slow sip of his beer, letting his gaze travel the room. The pack had changed. He had changed.
The scars of last year still ran deep. They had lost wolves in the north and buried more than he cared to count. The hybrids had scattered after the avalanche, but they would regroup someday. They hadn’t torn out the heart, merely cut off a limb. Still, for now, there was peace.
Theodore was proof of that, too.
Dominic spotted him at one of the tables, surrounded by a few younger wolves. He was laughing, though there was a stiffness to it, a carefulness. He looked older now, tempered. His eyes still flicked toward his sister often, protective in that way older brothers never unlearn.
Layla had worked hard for this, carving out her place among them again.
She now ran the archives and even helped mediate small disputes when tempers ran high.
She still slipped away to her little workroom in the evenings, her “studies,” as she called them, though she never said what those studies were.
Dominic knew. He pretended not to. There were some in the pack that whispered “witch” when she passed, and he dealt with those murmurings swiftly and brutally.
A familiar voice cut through his thoughts. “Brooding again, Alpha?”
Dominic turned just as Julian slipped out of the shadows near the stairs, silent as ever. His hair had grown out, his coat still the same worn black. The spymaster looked unchanged, like the year hadn’t touched him. It probably hadn’t. Males like Julian didn’t age so much as sharpen.
“Habit,” Dominic said.
“You should try breaking it,” Julian replied. His eyes flicked toward Layla. “You’ve done well. She’s finding her feet. Earning respect.”
“She always deserved it,” Dominic said, a faint edge in his tone, “despite her deceptions.”
Julian’s mouth curved slightly. “She trusts me now, you know. Even after everything.”
Dominic’s jaw flexed. “I’m aware.”
Julian’s gaze lingered, amused, before he inclined his head. “Then I’ll leave you to your domestic bliss. Chase is about to challenge someone to arm wrestling again, and I’d rather not be collateral damage.”
“Coward,” Dominic said.
“Pragmatist,” Julian corrected, and vanished into the crowd.
Dominic shook his head, expression growing dark.
He’d never been able to forgive Julian for hiding his suspicions about Layla.
She had tried to make him understand, of course, but the reality was he needed to trust Julian.
He had no idea who he was—hell, he didn’t even think Julian was his real name.
Every skill he’d learned, every dark tactic he drew like a blade, it all came from somewhere.
Dominic had allowed him into the pack because he’d sworn loyalty. It was the only reason. He was an incredibly dangerous weapon, only safe when Dominic was certain he had complete control.
And his deception had made that control slip.
“You’re scowling again,” came Layla’s voice.
He turned. She stood beside him now, cheeks flushed from the fire, eyes warm. She had a glow about her that made his chest ache, soft, golden, alive.
“Arthur wants to host the Yule celebrations together this year,” she said with a small smile, “he says I’d be perfect to help organize them!”
Dominic smiled, “Who knew the Ice Bear was so interested in party planning.”
“He just likes the celebrations. The community coming together,” she said, bumping his shoulder.
Her fingers brushed his wrist, light but electric.
The bond thrummed quietly between them, that constant awareness.
He could feel her calm, her exhaustion, the pulse of life beneath her palm. Their child. Their miracle.
“You should be sitting,” he murmured, eyes dropping to her hand.
“You should stop hovering,” she countered, but there was affection in it, “I’m fine.”
“The healer said you shouldn’t overexert yourself.”
“And I’m not,” she arched a brow, “I’m talking to my mate in a bar. Hardly perilous.”
He huffed out a breath. “You drive me mad.”
“That’s the idea.”
He reached for her hand, and she let him.
The noise of the room faded a little. She studied him for a long moment, eyes tracing the faint lines at the corners of his mouth, then leaned into him, her head resting against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her without thinking. She fit perfectly, always had.
They stood like that for a while, letting the sounds of the pack swell and fade around them. The crackle of the fire, the rumble of Arthur’s laughter, the steady hum of belonging.
Layla murmured against him, “Theo asked me to help him with the training records. He’s been different lately. Softer.”
“He’s learning,” Dominic said quietly. “He’ll never stop regretting the things he said. How he chose to handle things.”
“That doesn’t mean he deserves my forgiveness,” she said, lips pressing tight.
“One day,” he said, pressing a kiss into her hair, “I’m sure he’ll decide to finally tell you why he acted the way he did.”
“It’s because he’s an idiot.”
“Layla,” he said softly, and she sighed, chastised.
“I know that things happened under your father. Horrible things. I just wish he’d let me in. He’s always held me at arm’s length.”
He hummed, holding her closer. It had taken several frank, often heated, conversations with his best friend to mend the ties between them. He wanted nothing more than for his mate to find the same peace that he now had.
Layla tilted her head to look up at him. “What are you thinking?”
“That I don’t deserve this,” he said simply. “You. The pack. Any of it.”
Her smile was slow, radiant. “You do.”
He brushed a thumb over her cheek. “You’re certain?”
“You keep us all safe, Dominic. You’re a protector. A good male.”
He bent, kissing her forehead. “You gave me a reason.”
Outside, thunder rumbled somewhere far beyond the bay, but inside The Anchor, the storm couldn’t touch them. The wolves laughed, the fire burned, and the world felt right.
Layla’s hand found his again, warm and sure. He glanced down, his gaze catching on the faint shimmer of her magic pulsing beneath her skin. A secret still, but no longer a burden. He didn’t say anything. He just held her closer.
When the wind howled against the windows, the packs howled back, long and low and joyous. Layla laughed softly into his chest, and Dominic’s heart, so long ruled by duty and fear, finally felt still.
The Alpha of the Volkhov had everything he’d ever wanted.
And this time, he knew how to keep it.
*****
THE END