The air rippled.
A low growl rose from the darkness behind her, deep, primal. When she turned, a wolf stood at the edge of the plain. White as snow, nose to the earth. It pawed at the ground, then glanced up.
The air tore open.
Something unseen struck the wolf, claws and fangs and teeth. The creature convulsed, light spilling from its wounds. Layla screamed, running forward, but the snow swallowed her steps. The wolf fell without sound, its body dissolving into a swirl of snowflakes.
A harsh slash of crimson stained the snow.
When she looked back, the pale figure was closer now, its glow dimmed.
“Wake,” it said.
***
Layla jolted upright, gasping.
The candles had burned low; wax pooled on the floor. Her dress clung to her with cold sweat. For a moment, she couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming; the mark on her palm throbbed, bright and alive, pulsing in rhythm with her heartbeat.
Her breath came shallow. The scent of snow and blood still lingered in the air.
Then the vision faded, leaving only a faint silver hue across her eyes, and the silence of the basement returned.
Layla pressed her palm to her chest. Her skin was cold, but her heart…her heart was burning.
Somewhere, far above the cliffs, the moon shone down over Skymist. And a wolf from the Nordan Pack began his patrol shift.
Chapter 11 - Dominic
Dominic had gone straight to The Anchor.
He needed a drink.
Hell, he needed several.
Silence fell as the door slammed open, the gathered alphas falling silent as he stalked inside. The fire was burning hot, the drinks flowing, but the atmosphere was tense. Sharp. The celebration that should have marked the Alpha’s union had decayed into a tense, murmured gathering.
Dominic stood at the head of the room, hands clasped behind his back, watching the remainder of his alphas gather cautiously around him. He noticed Theodore in the corner, eyes slightly glazed, anger glinting nevertheless. Julian stood slightly apart, dark gaze keeping vigil. There was a drink in his hand, though it remained untouched.
He felt the room’s mood deep in his stomach. He stood tall regardless.
The floorboards creaked as Rhett Calder stepped forward. He was broader than when they were teenagers, muscles overtaking the skinny, nervous edges to him. He’d become bolder in recent years, too, cockier than most.
If he was being entirely honest, Dominic had been surprised when he hadn’t followed Leonid north of the mountains. He’d always preferred the more savage ways.
“Alpha,” Rhett began, bowing just enough to keep form. His voice was loud. It was meant for the whole room, not just him. “Some of us…don’t understand.”
Dominic’s head turned slightly. “Clarify.”
Rhett’s mouth tightened, “No male here would dare question the will of Lunarion”—a pause—“but your mate—”
Dominic’s gaze sharpened.
Rhett swallowed, bravado faltering. “She’s…not one of us. She’s as good as an outcast. And worse…” he hesitated, but the press of his comrades seemed to bolster him, and he straightened. “She can’t even shift. The bond’s meant to strengthen us, Alpha. Not embarrass us.”
A low sound rippled through the room, half agreement, half warning. Someone shifted their weight. Someone else coughed.
Dominic didn’t speak.
