Elora’s POV
The air between us was heavy, like thunder waiting to strike. Dante leaned against the stone wall of the corridor, his arms crossed, jaw sharp under the flicker of torchlight. His wolf’s scent, dark cedar and smoke, wrapped around me like temptation, suffocating.
He wasn’t smiling. He never smiled at me like Dominic sometimes did before this loveless marriage. Dante’s smile was different, sharper, edged like a knife.
“I swear to you that I have no idea what is going on in Dominic's head. I have no hand in this,” I tried defending myself.
Dante scoffed
“Of course that's what you'll say. I don't really care. Whatever your plans were, you succeeded,” he said.
I breathed in sharply. “I really can't convince you. So what do you mean you won't reject me? Isn't that what you
