Dominic’s POV
The place felt dead. Not in a peaceful way, either. More like, everyone’s holding their breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop. My pack? They are never this quiet unless somebody’s hiding something juicy.
Whispered s**t in back hallways, darting glances when they think I’m not looking. But lately, ever since Mira fell ill, the gloom had gotten thicker than wolf fur in summer. She was stretched out in my bed, pale as fresh linen, clutching at her stomach. If you had told me the Angel of Death was standing at her bedside, I would probably believe you.
And me, the great Alpha? Reduced to pacing the halls like some lovesick ghost, just waiting for a groan or a sigh so I would have an excuse to rush back in there.
But honestly, something about all of it was giving me the
