Page 44 of Blackmailing Belle (The Lost Girls #4)

Chapter 44

Too Late to Mate

BELLE

M y stomach plummets. “No,” I whisper, shaking my head in disbelief. “No. You’re going to be fine.”

A bitter laugh escapes his lips, accompanied by a pained exhale. His eyes flutter closed for a moment, and I see the lines of agony etched into his features. This can't be happening. Not to him.

"Isabelle. . .” He trails off, and the use of my full name sends hot spikes of desperation through me. He's always been the only one who refuses to call me by the nickname everyone else uses. “We tried. We tried to form a pack, but it didn’t work. That’s okay.”

Shifters die without a pack. It hits me so suddenly, so intensely, I instantly hate myself for not connecting the dots earlier. I knew half-shifted Dominic was in pain, but I never guessed it was killing him. How could I have been so stupid?

"I meant what I said, Isabelle. You'll get your freedom. Everything I have will be yours—except for what I've left for Lucien and the others. You can live your life however you want."

"Stop," I plead, cradling his face as if I can physically stop him from leaving this world. “Just stop.”

His eyes flicker open, softer now, filled with something I can’t bear to name. “Belle. . .you’ll be better off without me.”

The words hit me like a physical blow and the fear I’d been holding at bay surges forward, consuming me whole. I press my palms to his chest, feeling the sluggish thrum of his heartbeat beneath my hands. “You don’t get to decide that,” I snap, tears blurring my vision. “You don’t get to give up on me—on us.”

“I’m not giving up,” he murmurs, his voice faltering. “I’ve just. . .run out of time.”

Dominic’s breathing slows, the weight of his body sagging further against the wall. His pallor is ashen, his once-vivid green eyes now dim.

“If I could stay, I’d show you how much I love you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before now.”

Hot tears trail down my face as I scooch forward, trying to get as close as possible without hurting him. “You did, though. Remember? When you opened the library for me, and then I fell off the ladder? After you caught me, you kissed me before telling me you loved me. And then we did it right there against the ladder. The thing nearly broke, remember? It was perfect.”

A smile appears on his face before it twists as if a tidal wave of pain has hit him.

A terrible, soul-crushing realization slams into me with the force of a tidal wave.

I’m losing him.

My body locks up, a scream curling in my throat, clawing for release. This isn’t happening. This can’t happen.

My chest tightens as I realize I’ve spent so long guarding my heart that I never truly let him in. But I was wrong. I’m passionately, over the cliff insanely in love with Dominic. Not because I need anything from him, but because when he is simply near I feel whole, complete, safe, and loved. I know to the marrow of my bones what it is like to be thoroughly and selflessly loved and the idea of losing that, of losing him, makes me want to die.

“Dominic,” I whisper, leaning my forehead against his. “I love you too. And you’re right. I’m yours. I’ll always be yours.” Then I drop a kiss onto his lips. They are cold and unresponsive.

His body slackens in my arms.

“Dominic?” I cry, shaking him gently. “No. No, no, no. You can’t leave me!”

A guttural sound echoes from the doorway, shattering the fragile stillness. I whip around, my pulse pounding in my ears. One of Roman’s creations stands there, its twisted form barely recognizable as a wolf. Its matted fur glistens with blood, and its muzzle drips with saliva as it snarls, fixing its red, feral eyes on Dominic.

Panic floods my veins, but something deeper stirs—a need to protect my husband.

I grab a gun that is lying forgotten on the ground nearby.

I stand, trembling, but my resolve is firm. “You won’t touch him,” I growl, my voice fierce and unwavering as I lift the firearm. I haven’t picked up one of these in years, but I haven’t forgotten a thing.

The beast stalks forward, its jagged claws scraping against the floor, but I refuse to back down. Not now. Not ever.

The gun barks and kicks back in my grip.

The beast lurches but takes another step forward. Two more loud cracks from the gun before it clicks, empty of bullets.

The monstrous wolf’s guttural snarl rips through the air as its claws swipe toward me. My heart seizes, but before the blow lands, a golden blur streaks past me.

A massive lion slams into the mutated werewolf with bone-crunching force. The room echoes with a sickening thud as the beast is thrown to the ground, its grotesque limbs flailing. The lion’s roar is deafening. The air vibrates with the raw power of its cry.

“Dominic?” I whisper as I stumble back.

The lion is magnificent, his golden mane gleaming in the dim light. His massive form ripples with strength, claws digging into the abomination beneath him. With a swift and lethal swipe, Dominic tears into the werewolf’s neck, silencing it forever. Blood pools beneath the corpse as Dominic rises, his massive frame towering over the carnage.

I freeze as the lion stalks toward me, his glowing green eyes locking onto mine. The feral intensity in his gaze softens as he approaches. My breath hitches when his massive head dips, his muzzle brushing against my shoulder. The gentle touch sends warmth flooding through me, a stark contrast to the violence moments before.

“Dominic,” I whisper again, my hand shaking as I reach out. My fingers graze his mane, the coarse yet soft texture grounding me. He rumbles low in his chest, a sound of reassurance, of comfort. I can hardly believe what I’m seeing .

Fresh tears fall down my face from joy this time. Dominic shifted. We formed a bond. We’re mates. And I can feel it. It’s right there—a second pulsing sensation right beside my heart, tethering me to Dominic no matter what form he’s in. I drop to my knees and bury myself in his body, hugging him as tightly as I can, allowing his warmth to seep into me.

The sound of bickering breaks the moment.

“You bloody idiot,” Tock grumbles as he strides into the room, his polished boots crunching over debris. “Do you have any idea how much this jacket cost? You scorched my sleeve!” He gestures at the singed fabric, his British accent sharper than usual.

Lucien saunters in behind him, his drawl dripping with mischief. “Oh, c’mon, mon ami . You’re still alive, ain’t ya? Call it a little character for your fancy threads.”

Tock glares, adjusting his cuff. “Character? I’ll show you character when I—” His words cut off as his eyes land on Dominic. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

Lucien’s playful smirk breaks into a full-on grin. “Looking good, boss.”

Dominic steps away from me, his lion form graceful and imposing as he moves toward the two men. He lets out a low, rumbling growl.

“The Wolves have all been disposed of,” Tock says, “But not without some cost.” He shoots an accusatory glare at Lucien again.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lucien says. “But how about we get out of here because this is like,” his head swivels around, “a lot of corpses. And I’d much rather be at home with some tea courtesy of Mrs. P. Maybe a little celebratory whiskey.” He waggles his eyebrows.

I nod. When Tock extends a hand to help me off the floor, Dominic lets out a warning growl. Tock lifts his hands in surrender, backing away.

“So you can shift now, but you still haven’t lost that grumpy impossible attitude,” I say, getting up off the floor on shaking legs, but never letting go of Dominic.

My husband’s low rumble vibrates through me, steady and real. "Let’s go home," I say softly, no longer afraid of believing in love.

I once thought love was a fantasy—something spun only in the pages of a book— beautiful, completely unattainable. But this? This is flesh and blood, unshakable and true.

It fills the center of my being, satisfying the deepest, truest part of me. Despite trying to deny my need, it’s just like Rap said. It feels like the secret desire in my heart was there because it was always meant for me.