Prologue - Dominic
Three Years Ago
Taking a deep breath as I enter the training arena, the sweet scent of warmth and humanness lingers around me.
Grunting, I head to the bathroom stalls to take a shower, grateful for the emptiness of the place that allows me to get my head straight. I scrub harder, the cold water biting at my hands until the smell fades, or maybe I just convince myself it does.
It’s been less than six hours since Cecelia pressed her lips to my throat and whispered my name like it was the only word that mattered, and since I let myself forget who I’m supposed to be.
Now I can’t afford to forget again.
I’m leaving in two days for black ops—something I’ve trained for since I was old enough to shift. If I stand any chance of becoming this pack’s leader when I return from black ops, I can’t be the guy who throws it all away for a wolfless girl.
The training yard hums with morning drills when I get there, showered and ready for the new day without the wolfless girl’s scent stuck to me. Simon and a few others are already sparring, their laughter sharp in the morning air, reminding me that he’s my greatest.
He’s the only thing that might stand in the way of me taking the alpha mantle, since he’s Alpha Sirius’s only son.
Santo, my best friend, comes jogging over as he calls out my name, and I turn toward him, but it draws my attention toward the other obstacle that might stand in my way of becoming the Lunaris Alpha.
Cecelia Morales.
Cecelia’s in the corner, hauling buckets toward the gear shed, keeping her face down as if to hide herself. Her uniform is too big, sleeves rolled, hair pulled back tight, appearing too formal for someone who was so carefree and different last night. She keeps her eyes fixed on what she’s doing, like she knows she’s being watched.
“Hey, careful, Cece,” Simon calls out with a smirk that makes my teeth grind as Cecelia passes him with another bucket. “Wouldn’t want the mop to shift before you do.”
The others laugh while Cecelia freezes, gripping the handle tighter.
I tell myself to walk away.
To stay silent.
So I turn to Santo with a wry expression, as if my friend is a grounding presence, but I notice Simon stepping closer to Cecelia out of the corner of my eye.
“You know, I heard Rivera here’s got a soft spot for charity cases. Don’t ya, Dom?!”
I feel their eyes swing to me. The worst thing I could do right now is defend her. The second worst would be proving them right.
Cecelia’s cheeks flush. She mutters something under her breath—probably my name in disdain, especially after this morning when I rejected her as my mate after sleeping with her out in the woods last night. I don’t blame her—I’m the last person she’ll want to see, so she turns toward the equipment room. One of the guys blocks her path and knocks her bucket over. Water splashes across the concrete, soaking her shoes.
Laughter again.
And all I can do is still stand there, doing nothing, not reacting, while internally losing my mind.
My jaw aches from clenching. I should stop it. I want to. But every instinct screams that stepping in means choosing her over my pack, over the rank I’m vying for, first with black ops, then with the alpha trials. I can’t choose her over everything I’ve built.
She kneels down, hands shaking as she gathers the bucket. Her eyes lift for half a second and find mine.
Hurt. Confused.
Like she can’t believe I’m not moving.
Then she looks away and runs.
The sound of her footsteps fades down the field, and the air feels too quiet without her heartbeat in it.
Simon comes up to me, elbowing me in the ribs as he grins. “Guess she knows her place.”
I force a laugh, the sound low and hollow. “Yeah,” I mutter. “She’s just a wolfless mutt, anyway. She doesn’t deserve a place in the pack.”She should have known better last night.
