Chapter 151 151
Dominique POV
“Snap again!” Damien shouts, his voice cutting in just as Mum’s hand is about to claim the pile first.
“Damien, that’s not fair…” Mum laughs, quick as ever, snatching the pack of cards from beneath his grip before he can protest.
“You have to say snap too, sweetheart. They’re mine.”
“No,” he argues, leaning back in his chair, confidence thick in his tone. “Sometimes it can be a silent snap.”
She chuckles, deliberately pulling the cards farther out of his reach.
“Aurélie Roux, you cheater!” he growls.
I think he means it playfully but something twists uncomfortably in my chest at the sound of it. I don’t like the way he scolds Mum. Not at all.
Before I can stop it, a low sound rumbles out of the back of my throat. Not quite a growl… but close. It vibrates through me the way a cough does when it’s lodged too deep to ignore. My vision blurs, heat blooming behind my eyes as they start to burn. Something pushes forward inside me, pressing against my senses, as if trying to shove me out of my own body.
“Dominique?”
Every head turns toward me.
I shake my head sharply, forcing the strange sensation down, fighting to regain control. The pressure eases, but it leaves me breathless and unsettled.
What was wrong with me?
Mum’s eyes soften with concern as she steps toward me, reaching out but I flinch back instinctively.
I don’t want to hurt her.
“Dominique,” Damien says gently, rising from his chair. “How about we have a chat and a kick-about in the back garden?”
He reaches for Mum, helping her to her feet with an easy tug at her arms. As I pass her, she presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I love you,” she murmurs.
I love her too.
But would she still love me if she knew what was happening to me?
Damien POV
His eyes had gone black.
I’d seen it before felt it before. But he was younger than I had been when my wolf first made itself known.
“What’s going on?” I ask calmly as we start passing the football back and forth across the grass.
I’ve learned something about Dominique: distract him just enough, and the truth slips out before he realizes he’s giving it voice.
The technique works. It always does.
It worked at the party too he told me things that day he never would have said if Fabrice or Aurélie had been around. He’s a sharp kid. Of course he is.
He’s mine.
And even in the short time I’ve spent with him, I can feel it his wolf pressing closer to the surface, restless and impatient.
His irritation with Delphine is another sign. A shortening temper. Frustration with people.
Traits he’ll have to learn to master long before he ever becomes an alpha.
“I don’t know…” He shrugs, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, avoiding my gaze.
“Sure you do,” I say evenly. “You just think I won’t understand. I promise you I will.”
Because I already have.
“Ever since the kidnapping,” he admits quietly, eyes dropping to the grass beneath his feet, “I’ve felt… different.”
I note the way he won’t meet my stare. I’ll teach him.
A werewolf must always hold eye contact.
“That’s your wolf,” I tell him. “Trying to protect you.
It’s unusual for a wolf to surface this early…”
His shoulders tense. “So I am weird.”
“Unusual,” I correct, “but not unnatural. You’ve been through a lot, Dominique. Your wolf is showing early signs of consciousness to keep you safe. You just have to learn how to rein him in.”
“How?” His voice cracks just slightly.
“With patience,” I say. “And by not being too hard on yourself… or your sister. None of this is her fault. She’s only ever worried about you.”
He hesitates, then looks at me. “Did your wolf come early?”
I study him for a moment. Something tells me he already knows the answer he just hasn’t let himself accept it yet.
“Yes,” I admit. “Not as early as yours… but early.”
“When?” His interest sharpens instantly.
“I was eight.”
His eyes widen. “What happened to you?”
“I went through things,” I say carefully. “Trauma. Like you.”
Old memories stir, ugly and persistent, clawing their way to the surface.
“What did your mum do to help you?” he asks softly.
“She wasn’t around anymore.”
His brow furrows. “Your dad was he there?”
“Yes.”
Silence settles between us, heavy and unresolved.
Should I tell him?
I should… but it would be cruel especially now, when I’m about to leave.
“Where’s your dad now?” he asks, stopping the ball beneath his foot.
“My father retired from the pack,” I reply. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
He studies me closely, confusion flickering across his face. I wish I could mind-link Aurélie tell her we need to explain everything. That keeping the truth from him is only making things worse.
That this silence is hurting him more than honesty ever could.