BITE ME, MY ALPHA

CHAPTER TWO

Dominic’s pov

Steel rang against steel in the cold morning air. "You seem heated," Silas said, circling me with the easy grin he always wore right before I put him on the ground. "Heated is one word for it." I twisted my blade and nicked him along the ribs before he could step back. "Ouch. What was that for?" He pressed a hand to the cut, more offended than hurt.

"You talk too much." "I'm done." Silas dropped his sword and grabbed a towel. "I need to tend to this, since my best friend decided today was the day I deserve to die." His brows were furrowed, but the corner of his mouth was fighting a smile.

"Sorry. I needed to burn off some heat." I looked at the ground. The restlessness I'd woken with was still coiled tight in my chest. "I'll patch it up for you." "You? Playing healer now, on top of everything else?" He laughed hard. "You owe me a rematch. No cheap shots while I'm talking."

"That's half the sport." I wiped my blade on my sleeve, fighting a grin of my own. "Deal." He stuck out his hand, mock-serious.

I reached for it. He slapped mine away at the last second, cackling. "You should see your face." "Is this what you two do all day?" a voice called across the courtyard.

Dante. "Hey, brother." I grinned, and the irritation drained out of me. He'd been gone two days, building alliances ahead of the Bloodmoon war. I pulled him into a hug and clapped his back twice. "Welcome back. How was the trip?"

He hesitated. Something moved behind his eyes, not worry, not anything I had a name for. "Well. They want something in return." "Want what?" I pulled back to study his face.

A palace guard cut in before he could answer, bowing his head. "Good day, sir. The King has summoned you both." I let the question go. "Father wants to see his two strong sons." "After you." Dante swept a hand toward the path, letting me walk first, the way he always did. An old childhood habit neither of us had ever broken.

Silas jogged up behind us, still pressing the towel to his ribs. "I'm off to the infirmary. Don't miss me too much." He peeled away, shouting something about rematches that I didn't catch.

The throne room held the quiet it always held before Father arrived, as though the room itself knew to brace for him. We bowed the moment he walked in. The weight of the day already sat in the lines of his face.

"Word has reached me," he said, no greeting. "Bloodmoon is building a stronger army. Faster than we expected." His gaze moved between us, sharper than any blade we'd drawn that morning.

The silence went a beat too long. Dante broke it. "There's a solution, Father." "Speak fast." He drummed his fingers once against the arm of his chair. "I went to the Crimson Fang clan." Dante glanced at me, then back at Father, choosing each word with care. "Their numbers are strong. Strong enough to tip the war, if we had their backing."

"And what do they want in exchange?" Father leaned forward. Dante's eyes flicked to me, just briefly. "If they help us, Dominic steps down as Alpha."

The room went still. My jaw locked and heat crawled up the back of my neck. "I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," I said, low. "An abomination." Father's grip tightened on the arm of his chair until his knuckles paled. "We ask for help with a war, and they want to choose my heir?" He shook his head. "There will be another way. I won't trade what was built with blood for a handful of soldiers."

Dante said nothing. He studied the floor. It wasn't anger in that silence, and it wasn't embarrassment. It was quieter than either, and I couldn't name it before Father waved us out, already working the problem in his own head.

I was still turning it over when someone called my name from the corridor. "Dominic!"

Silas was heading toward me with two women on his arms, both laughing at something he'd said. "Like what you see?" He grinned, gesturing like a man presenting a prize. "They look stunning." I pulled one of them closer, grateful for anything that dragged my mind off the throne.

Silas clapped my shoulder. "Go on, then. Have your fun. Lord knows you need it after the mood you walked in with."

We disappeared into my room. The women dropped onto a bed wide enough that the headboard nearly touched the ceiling, and scented candles filled the room with low, warm light. The night passed in a blur of warmth and distraction, the kind I used, more often than I liked to admit, to drown out everything waiting outside that door.

Morning came too fast. A knock, and before I could answer, the door swung open. Father stood in the frame. The silence that followed was worse than any shout.

"What is the meaning of this, Dominic?" His eyes flared, the color shifting with his anger. The women scrambled for their clothes, not daring to look at him.

"I do everything for this clan. You are meant to lead it." His voice dropped, low and dangerous, each word landing like a blow. "Don't bring shame to this family. Do you hear me?"

I couldn't answer. The night before suddenly felt heavier than it had a few hours ago. "Are you deaf?" Father barked. "I'm sorry, Father. It won't happen again." I kept my eyes on the floor. "It had better not." He turned and left, his footsteps echoing down the hall long after he'd vanished.

I dressed fast. The women were gone before I'd finished pulling on my shirt. I headed for the dining hall with his anger sitting in my chest, worse than any wound Silas had ever given me in the yard.

Father cleared his throat the moment I sat, not looking up from his plate. "Dante. Your mother has come up with a solution."

My stomach turned before he finished the sentence. "Dominic will marry the princess of Crimson Fang."

"What?" My mother's fork clattered against her plate. She nearly rose from her seat. My own hand tightened around my fork until the metal bit into my palm.

I said nothing. The words hadn't landed yet, not as something real. Not as something about to happen to me, to the life I'd never once questioned until that moment.