Dominic growled, glaring down at the desk, “Surely this is not grounds for desertion.”
“We’re wolves,” said Julian simply, “strength is everything. You need to show them all that this bond makes you stronger. If your instincts are right, and this is a true mating, that means you’ll be granted special gifts by Lunarion. Make sure you use them in front of the pack.”
“About that,” Dominic said, “when can I expect these so-called powers to appear—”
He stopped dead. Something inside him twisted and wrenched. It wasn’t him, though.
It was her. Fear. The taste of blood.
He was moving before he had time to reconsider.
***
“Layla!” He slammed the bookshop door open, the wood cracking as it struck the wall. It might have been locked. It didn’t matter. “Layla!”
The shop was dark. He spun about wildly, scenting the air, rage and panic battling within him. And then—
“Dominic?” Her small voice came from the kitchen, and then she appeared, bundled tight in a blanket. “What are you doing here?”
He crossed the room in three strides, grasping her by the shoulders, checking her up and down for wounds. “What is it? What happened?”
“I…” she swallowed, too shocked to stop him scenting her. “I had a dream. A nightmare.”
Dominic growled, “You’re shaking.”
She stepped backwards, and he felt the loss of contact keenly.
“It’s nothing,” she said, pulling the blanket tighter. Behind him, he was dimly aware of Julian entering the shop, tutting at the ruined door.
“I felt—” he stopped himself, jaw working. “I thought you were in danger. That you were…being attacked.”
She let out a breath, eyes wide. “No, no, nothing like that. I’m sorry. It was just…a very vivid dream. More vivid than any I’ve had before.”
Julian stepped forward. “What happened?”
Layla’s eyes darted between them. “I saw something.” The words tumbled out, uneven and breathless. “There was a figure, it glowed, and it said I was marked. And then—” Her throat bobbed, “There was a wolf. White as snow. It was torn apart,” Layla’s voice dropped to a whisper, “I felt it dying.”
Dominic’s hands curled into fists at his sides. “That was it?”
She looked at him fearfully then. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disturb you—”
“More vivid than any dream you’ve had before?” Julian cut in suddenly, eyes bright.
Layla nodded cautiously. “I could still smell the blood when I woke.”
Julian’s lips pressed tight together.
Groaning, Dominic pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “If I’m going to feel it every time you have a bad dream—”
“I’m sorry,” Layla said again, exhaustion coating her words, making her throat sound tight. “I’ll…I’ll try and control it. I don’t normally dream like that.”
He looked at her, trembling slightly in her blanket, and just sighed. Tiredness seeped into his very bones.
“It’s not your fault. We’ll find a way to deal with—”
“Alpha!” the voice came from the door, urgent and rough. Dominic turned. Chase, second-in-command of the Nordan, more sprightly and youthful than his ice-bear older brother, stood panting in the doorway. “I’m sorry, the males at The Anchor said you’d left in a hurry, I followed your scent, I—”
He stumbled in, and Dominic lurched forward, reaching out to steady him. “What is it, what’s happened?”
