Page 65 of Mane Squeeze
Dominic looked up at her, something raw flickering behind his eyes.
“I wanted to give you something by choice,” she said softly. “Not because of magic. Not because we had to. Just because I see you. And I trust you.”
He didn’t speak.
Instead, he looped the bracelet around his wrist and fastened it with care.
“I’ll never take it off,” he said hoarsely.
Lillith looked down, her throat tight. “Good. Because this time, we do this together. No more secrets. No more almosts.”
He reached for her, his hand warm against her jaw. “You’re everything I never knew I needed.”
She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. “Then let’s protect it. Protectus.”
For a moment, the world outside didn’t matter. Not the prince. Not the Pact. Just the two of them, two broken pieces finally learning to fit.
But as the wind rattled the windowpanes and an unnatural chill crept in from the woods, Lillith knew one thing for certain. This was only the beginning.
29
DOMINIC
The parchment was gripped firmly between Dominic’s fingers as he stepped into the stone hall of the Celestial Pines Council Chamber. The oncoming sunset filtered through the high, arched windows, spilling amber rays across the long, rune-carved table where the elders sat in their respective chairs, each carved with symbols of their lineage and legacy.
Hazel sat at the end, her expression unreadable, eyes sharp and ancient. She was dressed in muted lavender robes, a far cry from the ash-smudged version of herself that had wandered back into town. Across from her sat Jace Montgomery—grumpy, broad-shouldered, and looming like a thundercloud in a dark henley and worn leather boots, arms crossed over his chest. The man smelled like pine and old promises, a scent Dominic remembered from hunts past and brief but intense territory discussions. The other council members he recognized but had never really had any reason to visit with them one-on-one. But now, that was all about to change.
Dominic didn’t hesitate. He placed the parchment down on the table with a quiet finality, letting the ancient glyphs burninto view, the edge of the page still warm with fresh ink and protective spellcraft.
“This,” he said, voice steady, “is your proof.”
Lillith stood beside him, spine straight, gaze unyielding. She hadn’t said much since the morning, but her silence wasn’t from doubt—it was bracing. Focused. The kind of stillness before a spell broke open the sky.
Hazel reached for the page first, her hand slower than usual, the practiced confidence of a seasoned council member faltering beneath the weight of what she held. Her fingers hovered above the ancient parchment like it might bite—centuries-old runes smoldering faintly under the dim light of the chamber, flickering like embers that refused to die. She ran a thumb across the wax seal bearing the mark of the Moonlit Pact, and her lips moved silently, translating what hadn’t been read aloud in generations.
As the silence thickened, Lillith stepped forward, voice echoing through the chamber like the toll of a bell.
“He’s not trying to corrupt the Pact,” she said, every word measured, every syllable sharp. “He wants to destroy it. Tear the ley lines apart. Return magic to a time of wild chaos—before the realms were tethered.”
The words struck like thunder.
Jace leaned forward, the massive shifter’s storm-grey eyes narrowing. “That would level the towns,” he growled. “It would tear holes between planes. Let things in that don’t belong.”
Dominic could feel the change ripple through the room—the dread sinking its claws into every stone. “It’s already starting,” he added, his voice low, raw. “You saw the shadow beasts. Youfeltthe rift last month near Hollow Bend. That was Thaloryn’s doing. His magic isn’t just spreading—it’s adapting. Feeding off instability.”
Hazel’s eyes snapped up. “You’re saying the rift wasintentional?”
Lillith nodded, her jaw clenched. “A test. And the boy in the market last week—he was branded with Dreaming runes. They were ancient. Feral. If we hadn’t intervened…” She trailed off, but the weight of her words filled the space.He would have died. Just like so many more will.
A wave of whispers surged through the chamber like a current. Elder Myra, frail and fine-boned, leaned toward her fellow councilor with silver eyes wide in disbelief. Across the long table, Briar’s bark-slick skin visibly hardened as the dryad muttered protective enchantments under her breath.
“Why now?” Jace snapped, always the warrior first. “Why start all this now?”
Dominic stepped forward. The gravity in his shoulders was different now. He wasn’t just a shifter. He was a man who had clawed his way out of Thaloryn’s prison and survived. “Because the realms are weak,” he said. “The balance is off. And because he thoughtIwas the easiest way in.”
Gasps rippled across the room. Hazel leaned back in her chair, brows furrowed in hard calculation.
Dominic didn’t falter. His gaze met Hazel’s, unwavering. “He cursed me. Bound me to Lillith. Tried to twist the bond into something unstable. Something he could weaponize to crack open the boundary between realms.”
