Page 9

DOMINIC

D ominic wasn’t one for self-reflection.

It got messy, always led to places he didn’t want to linger—like memories of betrayal, or that tight space under his ribs that hadn’t stopped aching since the bond formed. He preferred action. Punching something, shifting, running through the trees at night. Anything but feelings.

But now, with Lillith barely thirty feet ahead, weaving through the lantern-lit stacks of Pines & Needles , and the ghost of her laughter still caught on the edge of his hearing, he was drowning in feelings.

It was their second visit to the shop that week.

Celestial Pines might’ve been built on magic and moonlight, but it ran on gossip and rituals.

The only place to get both in equal measure was Markus and Rowan’s bookstore.

Tonight, it was mostly empty, save for a few enchanted broomsticks that sorted scrolls along the top shelves.

“Dom, come on,” Lillith called without turning. “We don’t have all night.”

He watched her move—sharp angles softened by the lazy sway of her hips. Goddess help him, he was falling.

And he didn’t fall.

He followed her, stopping at the carved archway separating the cozy reading lounge from the kitchen nook.

Markus, ever the gracious host, waved them through with a wine glass in one hand and an oversized sweater swallowing his thin frame.

His laugh echoed lightly behind them as Lillith slipped into conversation with him, the two settling near the fireplace like old conspirators.

Dominic’s gaze shifted. Rowan stood near the tea station, sleeves rolled, whisking something herbal and definitely enchanted.

“Lion boy,” Rowan greeted with a grin. “Tea or teeth-gritting silence?”

Dominic chuckled, the corner of his mouth curling. “Surprise me.”

Rowan poured him a mug and gestured toward the back porch. “Come on. You look like a man about to chew his own tail.”

They stepped outside into the cool night, mist curling along the railing, the scent of rosemary and old bark lingering in the air. The stars were faint, hiding behind thick clouds, but the glow of fae lanterns lit the porch in soft golds and blues.

Dominic leaned against the rail, sipping the tea. It was too sweet, but it worked.

“So,” Rowan said, folding himself into the hanging chair opposite him. “You gonna tell me what’s got your mane in a twist?”

Dom hesitated. Then sighed.

“You ever realize your instincts might kill you?”

Rowan arched a brow. “You’re gonna have to narrow that down.”

“My lion,” he said. “He’s… getting possessive. Not in a bad way. Yet. But it’s there. That edge. The want to protect her. Touch her. Keep her close.”

Rowan hummed. “And the problem?”

“She’s Lillith,” he muttered. “She doesn’t even like my face . And I’ve got a great face.”

Rowan smirked. “You do, in a smug, chiseled, probably-has-his-own-theme-song kind of way.”

Dom grunted. “We’re bonded. But it’s more than that. She was in the forest earlier. Talking to spirits, and all I could think about was what I’d do if something went wrong.”

Rowan’s expression sobered. “It’s your nature. We’re shifters. Our instincts don’t care about emotional nuance. Bond magic enhances that. Makes it primal.”

“Yeah, well,” Dominic sipped again. “It’s not just instincts. She drew lion paws in her journal. She listens when I talk. She doesn’t roll her eyes as hard . It’s…” He looked up. “It’s not supposed to feel this real.”

Rowan tilted his head. “Because you’re used to women who fall at your feet. Not ones who challenge you.”

“Exactly.” Dominic’s grin was faint, but the humor didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“Dom,” Rowan said, voice softening like the mist curling over the porch rail, “what your pride did to you? That wasn’t love. That was control. Lillith, she’s freedom. Even when she’s driving you up the walls.”

Dominic didn’t answer right away. His thumb traced the rim of the mug in his hands, the warmth of the tea seeping into his skin but not quite touching the cold spot deep in his chest. The one that had never really gone away.

“My alpha… he wasn’t just my leader. He was like a second father. Groomed me for leadership. Trusted me with everything, right up until the day I disagreed with him.”

Rowan said nothing, just watched him.

Dominic exhaled, a sound that wasn’t quite a sigh. “One decision. One call I made to protect someone in the pride who didn’t deserve what was coming. And suddenly, I was a threat. Exiled. Cast out like I was diseased.”

His voice was flat, but there was steel under it. And bitterness, too.

“Most of the others followed. Or pretended it hadn’t happened. I stopped existing for them overnight. Like loyalty meant nothing.”

Rowan’s jaw tightened. “I remember.”

“I don’t talk about it because it sounds like whining. But it wasn’t just betrayal, Ro. It was being stripped of who I was. My home. My people. My purpose . And ever since, I don’t let anyone in too deep. Can’t afford to.”

Rowan nodded slowly. “Because if you do, and they turn on you?—”

“It’ll destroy me. Again.”

The words hung between them like frost. Dominic didn’t look up.

“She doesn’t want this bond,” he said, voice lower now. “And even if she did… I don’t know if I can be what she needs. What if I mess this up, too? What if letting her in is the thing that breaks me this time?”

There it was.

The truth that’d been clawing at the inside of his ribs since the moment her hand first brushed his. Since the forest whispered secrets to her and his heart howled like it recognized her name.

“You’re not broken, Dom,” Rowan said gently. “You’re scared. And that’s fine. But love isn’t supposed to be safe. It’s supposed to be real.”

Dominic chuckled, a rough sound that caught in his throat. “Sounds terrifying.”

“It is,” Rowan said, grinning. “But you? You’ve already survived hell. This?” He tilted his head toward the house where Lillith’s voice faintly echoed through the walls. “This could be home. If you let it.”

Dominic looked down at the tea again. At his scarred knuckles and weathered hands.

“I’m scared I’ll ruin it,” he whispered.

Rowan laughed then, low and fond. “Welcome to being in love.”

Dominic choked on his tea. “Nope. Take that back.”

“Nope. Too late,” Rowan said, smug as sin. “You’re gone, big guy.”

Before Dominic could argue, the door creaked open and Lillith appeared, wrapped in a blanket, her face unreadable.

“We should go,” she said. “Markus gave me some things to try.”

Dominic stood. “You good?”

She hesitated before nodding. “Yeah.”

But as they walked home, barely inches apart under the whispering trees, her fingers brushed his once and it felt… nice.