She felt every gaze in the hall turn toward her, hundreds of eyes burning through the dark. Heat flooded her face. Her hands clenched at her sides, but they trembled anyway.
Dominic stood unmoving at the front of the room, his expression calm, but there was something beneath it, a tension, a kind of grim inevitability.
Theodore’s face was white. His mouth opened, then shut again. Whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t dare.
Julian didn’t move at all. His gaze flicked briefly from Dominic to Layla, assessing, and then away again, as if already calculating what came next.
Layla wanted to disappear. To vanish into the floorboards, to simply disappear.
Someone whispered, “She’s not even—”
Another voice hissed, “Quiet.”
Dominic’s gaze didn’t leave her. “The ceremony will take place at midnight,” he said, “in accordance with our laws.”
He turned then, signaling an end. His lieutenants straightened. The murmur turned into a roar.
The pack began to move as one, angry and writhing, confused and fearful.
Layla remained still.
She could feel the sound of her heartbeat, fast and loud, in the hollow between her ears. She couldn’t breathe properly. Couldn’t think.
Dominic had said her name.Hername.
When she finally managed to take a breath, it came in ragged. The torches flickered, their light too bright, too hot. The smell of smoke made her dizzy.
Across the room, Dominic descended from the platform. Theodore followed close behind him, face tight.
Everyone was talking about her. Looking at her. Some were fearful. Some were scornful. None was kind.
Her knees trembled. She couldn’t collapse, not here, not now.
But it was as if someone had ripped the floorboards from beneath her.
Her name was still echoing in her head.
Not her. It couldn’t be her. Why would he choose her? Now? After all these years?
He was walking towards her now, slowly, reluctantly.
She considered running.
There was no point. If he didn’t stop her, one of his warriors would.
Bitterness clawed her throat, acrid and choking.
It had to be some sort of joke. It had to be.
Why else would he choose her?
He’d had his chance to claim her years ago. And instead, he’d rejected her. Left her all alone.
Dominic Volkhov.
The only male she’d ever loved. The only one to whom she’d ever given herself.
The one who had broken her heart.
