Her fingers scrabbled against his bare chest. She was speaking through gasps now, the words coming sharper, half-formed, “I saw them,” she choked out, “the lights. I saw what I dreamed, and I thought—I thought if I told you it had happened again, that you’d believe me this time.”
He stiffened. Although he’d figured as much, the words still hit like a blow.
She tilted her head back to look at him, eyes red-rimmed and wet. “You don’t believe me,” she said, voice breaking. “You never did. I thought if I couldproveit-”
Her breath hitched, and the rest came out in a whisper, “I just wanted to help. You wouldn’t have let me come if I’d told you.”
He didn’t answer. Because it was true.
He exhaled slowly, his breath stirring the hair at her temple. “You could have been killed.”
Her voice was quiet. “I know.”
The words scraped something raw inside him. He didn’t want to picture it, her body torn open, her blood in the snow, but the images forced their way in.
His hand clenched reflexively on her shoulder, then eased. “Don’t ever do that again,” he said, almost a whisper.
She didn’t respond. Just sagged against him, exhausted, trembling.
Over her head, he glanced toward the tree line. Theodore stood a few feet back, his eyes wide and uncertain. Julianlingered beside him, expression unreadable, gaze flicking between the three of them.
Dominic met Julian’s eyes and gave a single, silent nod.
Julian hesitated, a fractional pause, then turned away, nudging Theodore’s flank. The two wolves began moving back toward the trees, their figures melting into the dark.
The clearing felt suddenly, achingly still.
Dominic looked down again. Layla’s sobs had quieted, but her breath still came fast. Her fingers were cold where they clutched at him. He shifted his hold, trying to share his body heat, trying to make the shaking stop.
“It’s all right,” he murmured again, “you’re safe now.”
She swallowed hard, her voice barely a whisper, “I was about to call Theodore. To come and get me. I didn’t…I…I thought about calling you.”
He shut his eyes tight, breathing in her scent. “Why didn’t you?”
She sniffled, “Because of how angry I knew you’d be.”
He almost smiled, not amusement, just raw relief at her ability to at least attempt a joke. “Trust me, mutt, I’m absolutely furious with you.” At her nervous glance up, he couldn’t resist pressing his lips into her hair. “But there’s time enough for that. We need to get you home.”
Her lashes lifted slowly. The look she gave him was a mix of defiance and heartbreak. “I just wanted you to believe me,” she said miserably, “I know I’m a burden to the pack. The stupid little girl who never shifted. I just thought that…these visions…that I might at last be able to beuseful. To earn my place, like my brother did.”
Her words carved straight through the armor he’d built over the years, the layers of harsh cruelty, duty, and restraint. He’d thought her defiance was recklessness. Now, holding her, he realized it was desperation. The kind born of never being believed in. The kind that came from relentless attack.
Attack he’d been partly responsible for.
He drew in a slow breath and pressed his forehead to hers. “You don’t need to prove anything,” he said quietly.
She went still at that, her breath catching, her eyes closing.
Dominic stayed like that for a long time, unmoving, until her trembling began to ease.
When he finally pulled back, her eyes fluttered open. There was exhaustion there, and confusion, and something else he couldn’t name.
“Come on,” he said gently, “you’re freezing.”
She glanced down, her cheeks staining red. “Um…I mean, I’m not the one who’s…”
He looked down at his naked form and huffed a laugh. “I’m just fine, sweetheart. I’ve got a fur coat I can put on.”
