Chapter 82
Dominic yanked Georgia out of the Vetro Club with a force that brooked no argument. Georgia had assumed he’d lead her to some dimly lit restaurant downtown, a familiar place where the night might soften their troubles. But instead, he veered sharply around the back of the club’s building, to a shadowed alley bathed in the cold light of the rising moon.
In an instant, Dominic shifted before her eyes–his human form dissolving into that of a massive, gray–black wolf, muscles rippling beneath thick fur. His enormous head lowered, and with gentle precision, his sharp canines grazed the back of Georgia’s hand, a silent and intimate gesture of trust.
Without hesitation, Georgia wrapped her arms around the massive wolf’s neck, climbing onto his broad back. She felt the raw power beneath her, steady and sure, as Dominic planted his paws and exploded into a sprint. Despite the speed, she barely felt the wind’s bite against her skin–her weight was nothing to him, a feather carried by a storm.
He raced through the night, carrying her away from the city’s pulse, deep into the outskirts where the trees of Silent Forest loomed like silent sentinels. Eventually, he slowed and lowered her gently beneath a sprawling ancient tree, its gnarled roots like fingers clutching the earth. Then, slipping behind the massive trunk, Dominic shed his wolf form and returned to his human shape.
“This is the Night Fall Pack,” he said, voice steady as he approached her again.
He took her hand firmly, guiding her through the winding paths into the heart of the pack’s territory, Georgia wasn’t used to the intimacy of someone holding her hand–especially not someone like Dominic. She tried to pull away several times, each time his grip tightened, accompanied by a disarming smile that dared her to resist.
The central square of the Night Fall Pack throbbed with life under the night sky. Market stalls spilled over with wares- smoky aromas of roasted meats, sharp scents of herbs, and the steady murmur of werewolves exchanging greetings and gossip. Young wolves lounged in groups, laughter ricocheting through the cool air. The vibrant energy stirred a deep. aching nostalgia in Georgia’s chest, memories of a childhood she once knew but had long since lost.
She thought of the Silver Stream Pack–how Chapter Unlocked, Enjoy Reading! is bustling scene. But Dominic stood out unmistakably here, his presence a beacon. As we practis dominance was unquestioned, and by association, Georgia drew many curious, calculating looks.
She shrank beneath those eyes, sensing the judgment, the quiet assessments. The sting of those gazes twisted her stomach. She despised being scrutinized, hated how they weighed her like a piece of prey.
With sudden desperation, she yanked her hand free, the skin raw and reddened from his grip. “Let go! Let go! Mr. Foster, please let me go!”
Her voice cracked, edged with exhaustion and pleading.
Dominic turned slowly to meet her gaze. For a heartbeat, he said nothing. Then, with a quiet resolve, he released her hand. Relief washed over Georgia, and she exhaled sharply–only to feel his hand clasp hers again, firmer this time, radiating a palpable, masculine strength
“Don’t be afraid,” Dominic said softly, voice low and commanding. “Ignore them.”
Before she could respond, he tugged her toward his chest, enveloping her in a fierce embrace. Raising his head, her glanced sharply around the square and snapped loudly, “What are you all staring at? Don’t you have mates of your own?”
His booming reprimand scattered the intrusive gazes, easing the tension like a crack of thunder in a silent room.
“Come on, let’s eat,” Dominic said, draping his arm possessively around Georgia’s shoulders and steering her toward a quiet corner of the square..
There stood an old–fashioned diner, its faded exterior marked by the absence of any sign or name. The door creaked as they entered, carrying the scent of home–cooked meals and the faint clatter of dishes.
“I’ll take two okra stews and one order of French fries,” Dominic called out casually.
From behind the counter emerged a man in his fifties, silver hair framing a warm, weathered face. His eyes twinkled with familiarity. “Derry! What brings you here tonight?”
< Chapter 82
OCHS
Before Dominic could answer, the man hurried over with two glasses of ice water, setting them down with a practiced. hand
“That’s-?” The owner sniffed, catching the subtle scent of someone unfamiliar, his gaze flicking to Georgia.
“I’m his friend,” Georgia offered cautiously.
Dominic smiled, a playful glint sparking in his eyes. “Crosby, this is my mate. What do you think?”
Georgia stared, stunned by Dominic’s effortless banter and Crosby’s easy acceptance.
“Crosby, it’s not like that,” Georgia started, but Crosby just chuckled.
“She looks a bit skinny for a mate, that’s all,” Crosby teased lightly.
“Derry, hang tight. I’ll get those okra stews out soon,” Crosby said as he turned to the kitchen.
Georgia was left speechless, struggling to form words as the weight of Dominic’s claim settled around her like a cloak. “Lost in a daze again?” Dominic’s familiar voice pulled her back from her thoughts.
She looked up, eyes meeting his handsome, teasing face, and a strange warmth fluttered in her chest. Tentatively, she whispered, “Derry?”
His hand moved to playfully ruffle her hair but froze midair. His ears flushed a delicate red. “You should call me Alpha Dominic. When I was a kid, I wasn’t allowed snacks, so I came here often for okra stew and fries. Crosby and I have known each other a long time. That’s why he calls me that.”
Georgia smiled, intrigued by the nickname, and repeated softly, “Derry,”
The blush deepened across his neck and ears. “Crosby’s an elder, you’re not. Don’t call me that. Call me Alpha Dominic.” Before she could answer, Crosby returned with two steaming bowls of okra stew,
“Dig in,” Crosby said with a smile.
Dominic waved him off. “Go on, get back to work.”
Georgia watched Dominic carefully, her voice low. “Why did you lie to Crosby? I’m not your mate.”
Dominic lifted a spoon, eyes glinting mischievously. “Who said I lied? Georgia, maybe you could try being my mate.”
Her heart thundered, ears ringing as she stared at him, disbelief flooding her features.
“Mr. Foster, what did you just say?”
He reached out, capturing her hand gently, warmth radiating through her skin. “I said, would you like to be my mate?” Georgia jerked her hand back quickly. “Don’t joke like that, Mr. Foster.”
“I’m not joking…” Dominic began, voice low and earnest.
“You are!” she snapped, voice rising in anger. “This has to be a joke, Mr. Foster!”
Dominic’s eyes held hers, unblinking. After a long pause, he sighed, the fight draining from him. “Fine. It’s a joke.”
A flicker of pain crossed Georgia’s eyes, sharp and fleeting–but Dominic caught it, his expression softening for a moment. After their meal, Dominic resumed holding Georgia’s hand, weaving through the crowd with confident ease, always a half- step ahead of her.
He punctuated their passage with stories from his childhood–funny, tender moments that made the night seem lighter. Behind him, Georgia stared down at their intertwined fingers, numb and drifting, her mind far away.
Suddenly, she broke the silence. “Aren’t you embarrassed?”
Dominic glanced back, genuinely puzzled. “Why would I be embarrassed?”
She hesitated, searching for the words, then admitted quietly, “Because I’m a joke.”
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<Chapter 82
A slow smile curved Dominic’s lips. “Jokes are good. They make people happy. Why would I feel embarrassed about that?”
