DOM
The war room vibrated with tension. Voices overlapped—strategy, confusion, fear. The map table was cluttered with half-formed plans and open comms. Outside, the sound of boots thundered like drums. A scout had just returned, breathless, reporting movement along the eastern border.
My fists were planted on the edge of the table, knuckles white, jaw locked.
Then it hit me.
A jolt. Like lightning threaded with heat. A spark buried deep inside my chest flared to life, so sudden and sharp I staggered back a step.
"Dom?" Lucas asked, eyes narrowing.
I couldn't speak. My hand flew to my chest. The bond—Lena's bond—it was there. Weak, thready, but pulsing again. Like a flame that had refused to die.
She was alive.
But more than that—
She was angry.
She was fighting.
My heart kicked. I staggered out of the room and down the corridor, ignoring the startled looks from guards. My wolf strained beneath my skin, teeth bared, howling with renewed purpose.
