Chapter 9

The bar's lights were hazy, almost blinding. Dominic downed drink after drink, the alcohol burning through his veins, but it couldn't torch the restless ache in his chest. The noise around him felt muffled, like it was trapped behind thick glass, while Clara's calm, almost indifferent face haunted his thoughts.

"Dominic, ease up, man. You're gonna pass out," his friend said, reaching for his glass. Dominic shoved him away.

"Back off!" His voice came out hoarse, his eyes flashing with barely-contained fury. He grabbed the bottle, chugging straight from it, the liquor searing his throat but paling against the fire in his heart.

He didn't know how long he drank, but eventually, the alcohol shattered his senses. The world spun, and he vaguely felt someone lift him. A soft, sugary voice—Aurora's—murmured, "Dominic, I'll take you home…"

He tried to pull away, but his body was leaden, and darkness swallowed him.

Morning light slipped through the curtains, stabbing Dominic awake with a splitting headache. He squinted, his vision clearing slowly. Then his body went rigid.

A she-wolf was curled in his arms, her soft hair spilling across his chest, her warm breath grazing his skin. His heart seized, a chill racing up his spine. "Clara…" he rasped instinctively.

"Hm?" The figure stirred, lifting her head. Aurora's face stared back.

Dominic's pupils shrank. He bolted upright, shoving her off. "What the hell are you doing here?!"

Aurora flinched, then blushed, tugging at her disheveled collar. Her voice was honey-sweet. "Dominic, last night… you don't remember?"

His face turned ashen. He glared at her, searching for a crack in her story. She looked down, twisting the bedsheet, her tone a mix of hurt and coy. "You wouldn't let me go, said you'd take responsibility…"

"Shut up!" Dominic's voice was ice, cutting her off.

He threw back the covers, climbing out of bed, only to see his clothes strewn across the floor and Aurora in a flimsy nightgown. His temples throbbed, his head splitting, but last night was a blank, like someone had carved it out of his mind.

The alcohol dulled his judgment, but a voice in his gut screamed: No way. I'd never betray Clara.

He took a deep breath, forcing calm. "I didn't touch you," he said, voice low and tight. "I only feel something for Clara. You set this up to make me think otherwise. I know what you want, but forget it—I'd never break my bond with Clara."

Aurora's head snapped up, eyes wide with disbelief. "You're saying you love Clara? No way. What about me? What am I to you?!"

Dominic's gaze was a blade, silencing her. He grabbed his jacket and strode to the door, tossing back, "You? Just a pawn to make Clara jealous."

Aurora's face drained of color. She bit her lip until he was gone, her expression twisting into something vicious.

Dominic sped home, his mind a mess. He screeched to a stop at the villa and rushed inside, but the house was eerily quiet.

"Clara?" His call echoed in the empty living room. No answer.

His heart sank. He raced upstairs, pushing open the bedroom door. The bed was pristine, untouched. His breathing quickened as he dialed her number, only to hear, "The number you've reached is no longer in service…"

His fingers trembled. He fired off texts, but they sank into the void. Panic gripped him, but he forced it down, telling himself Clara was just mad, like always. She'd come back. She always did.

He just had to wait.