He walked forward instead, each step deliberate, the echo of his boots striking the floor. The crowd parted instinctively. When he reached Rhett, they were eye to eye. The male didn’t flinch, but Dominic saw the pulse jump in his throat.
“You think God errs,” Dominic said softly.
Rhett shook his head, but it was too late. “No, Alpha, never—”
Dominic’s fist moved faster than sound. With a crack, Rhett’s head snapped sideways, the impact ringing like a slap of thunder. He staggered, caught himself, then straightened, blood already on his lip.
The others froze.
Julian materialized like a ghost behind his shoulder, ready and waiting if he was needed.
He wasn’t.
Dominic closed the remaining space, seizing Rhett by the front of his sweater, and drove him backward into the nearest pillar. Wood splintered. The male grunted, struggling to breathe.
“I am the Alpha of this pack,” Dominic said, voice low, each word heavy and blunt. “I protect it. Protect all of you. I’ll kill for it if I have to. And when God calls, I answer. You will not question the choices I make.”
Rhett’s eyes darted toward the watching faces, pleading.
Dominic’s grip tightened. “Say it.”
“Alpha—”
“Say it.”
Rhett’s breath came ragged. “I…I don’t question God.”
Dominic held him a moment longer, watching a trickle of blood trail down his chin. Then he released him. Rhett crumpled to his knees, coughing, his pride in tatters.
The hall was utterly still. Only the fire crackled.
Dominic turned slowly, his gaze sweeping the room. The silence of submission was deafening.
“Anyone else?” he asked.
No one met his eyes.
He let the moment stretch until it became unbearable. Then, very softly, he said, “Good.”
He crossed back to the bar, wiping the smear of blood from his knuckles onto his sleeve. Behind him, two alphas stepped forward to haul Rhett to his feet. The man didn’t resist, didn’t speak. He just bowed his head, his breath a wet rasp.
Dominic didn’t look back.
He stared into the fire instead.
This was what leadership threatened to become. Fear in place of faith, silence instead of loyalty. He’d never wanted it to come to this. During his father’s rule, Volkhov power had been built on discipline and strength, not devotion or protection. Dominic had fought to change that. He’d seen how weak it truly made them. He’d promised himself never to rule like a tyrant.
And yet the weight of their stares tonight pressed heavily.
He could almost hear them thinking.He’s lost it. He’s lost control. The God’s chosen a broken mate, and now he’s proving her weakness is his own.
The thought twisted something deep in his chest. He took a slow breath, forcing his anger down.
Dominic turned his attention to the bar beside the fire, to the bottles littering the surface. He poured himself a drink, the amber liquid catching the light, and took a slow swallow.
Across the room, Theodore stood near the wall, pale and drunk. Their eyes met for a fraction of a second before Theodore looked away.
Dominic said nothing. Instead, he drained his drink and left the bar.
