Hiding the Alpha's Twins: His Wolfless Luna
Chapter 43

Chapter 43: Chapter 43

Dominic’s POV

“You’re playing with fire, Dominic,” Olivia said as the old woman lit another bundle of herbs, releasing a thick, pungent smoke into the air. “But I think you already know that.” She did not mean the literal fire in front of us, but the truth that would arise after this.

However, I was not sure if it was the smoke or her words that made my stomach churn. My instincts were screaming at me to stop, to leave, but the nagging doubt Olivia had planted refused to be silenced in my head. I needed answers.

The old woman — “the seer,” Olivia called her, was crouched on the floor of a dimly lit room at the back of Olivia’s house. The space reeked of aged wood, dried herbs, and something metallic, like blood. Candles flickered from every corner with their flames casting eerie shadows that seemed to dance with a life of their own.

“What exactly are we doing here?” I asked.

The seer did not look up, her attention was fixed on the symbols she was drawing on the floor with what looked like charcoal mixed with ash. They were intricate and unfamiliar, looping together in a pattern that made my skin crawl.

Olivia leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and her face calm, almost smug. “We are uncovering the truth. You want to know if those twins are yours, don’t you?”

My jaw clenched. I hated the way she spoke, as if she already knew the outcome and I was just catching up.

“And this... ritual of hers?” I gestured to the seer, who was now muttering something under her breath in a language I could not understand. “How does it work?”

Olivia pushed off the wall, stepping closer to me. “She will summon the connection between you and the children. If there is any bond, blood, specifically, it will show. Think of it as... forcing the truth to reveal itself.”

I did not respond. The logical part of me wanted to walk out, to call this what it was: insanity. But another part of me, the part that had spent sleepless nights wondering, questioning, kept me rooted to the spot.

“Sit,” the seer rasped, her voice gravelly and ancient, like it had been pulled from the earth itself.

I hesitated, my gaze flicking to Olivia, who nodded encouragingly. Against my better judgment, I lowered myself onto the cold, hard floor. The seer shuffled closer, placing a small bowl in front of me. The contents were thick and dark, swirling like ink under the dim candlelight.

“Give me your hand,” she said.

I stared at her outstretched hand, her fingers crooked and gnarled like tree branches. Every instinct in me screamed not to trust her, but Olivia’s voice echoed in my mind: You deserve to know the truth.

With a resigned breath, I extended my hand, and the old woman took it, her grip was surprisingly strong as she turned my palm upward and dragged a small, curved blade across the skin. The sting was sharp but brief, and blood welled up instantly.

She held my hand over the bowl, letting the blood drip into the liquid and it mixed with the dark substance, spiraling into a deeper, almost unnatural black.

“What now?” I asked my eyes still trained on the fluid.

The seer did not answer. She dipped her finger into the mixture, smearing it across the symbols on the floor. The chanting grew louder, the words tumbling from her lips faster, more urgently. The air grew heavier, thicker, like the room itself was holding its breath.

I felt a strange pull in my chest, a tightening that was not entirely physical and my pulse quickened as the symbols began to glow faintly, their edges shimmering with a soft, golden light.

“What the hell is this?” I muttered, my eyes darting to Olivia.

“Just watch,” she calmly said, nodding her head to the symbols in a gesture for me to watch them.

The glow intensified, spreading outward until the entire floor seemed to pulse with light, and then my heart pounded as the room filled with an almost deafening hum, a vibration that resonated deep in my bones.

Then, suddenly, everything went still after a breeze.

The seer stopped chanting, her head snapping up to look at me. Her eyes were wild, reflecting the golden light like mirrors.

“It is done,” she whispered.

I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. “What’s done?”

Instead of answering, she reached into the bowl again, smearing more of the dark mixture onto the floor. This time, the symbols shifted, rearranging themselves into an image that made my blood run cold.

Two small figures appeared in the center of the glowing circle — figures that were unmistakably Devon and Diana.

“No,” I breathed, my voice barely audible in disbelief.

The seer pointed a bony finger at the image. “Blood does not lie. These children are yours.”

The words hit me like a physical blow, stealing the air from my lungs. My mind reeled, scrambling for any explanation, any way to deny what I was seeing. I thought I was prepared to know that truth, but despite the joy that sprouted in my heart learning that the twins were my children, a flicker of anger had also resonated in my chest, a fit of anger directed at the lies that Samantha had uttered. She hid my children from me, she never informed me about them, and when I confronted her, she lied, strongly denying that they were mine. Why? Why would she do such a thing?! I knew that I had made mistakes in the past, but I was willing to make things right again, but still, she refused me relentlessly. She did not want me in our children’s lives.

But still, no matter what happened in the past, they were still my children.

“No,” I said again, louder this time. “That’s not possible.” I wanted to deny, not the the children, but Samantha’s lies. I wanted to make myself believe that she was not that cruel to keep my children away from me.

But she did.

Memories flooded my mind, Devon’s fierce protectiveness, Diana’s mischievous smile, the way they both seemed to mirror pieces of me I had not realized...

“They’re mine,” I whispered, the realization crashing over me like a tidal wave.

I staggered to my feet, backing away from the glowing symbols as if distance could change the truth. My hands shook my heart racing with a mixture of shock, anger, and at the same time, joy to know that the twins were mine.

But six years. She hid them from me for six fucking years!

Olivia stepped closer, as she spoke. “Now you know.”.

I turned to her, my jaw tight. “Did you know?”

Her silence was answer enough.

Rage bubbled up inside me, hot and uncontrollable. “You knew,” I snarled. “And you waited until now to say something?”

“I suspected,” she said calmly. “But I was not sure. That’s why we did this.”

I wanted to shout, to throw something, to do anything to release the storm raging inside me. But the image of Devon and Diana burned in my mind, anchoring me to the moment.

They were mine.

“I have to go,” I said abruptly, shoving past Olivia and heading for the door.

“Dominic—” she started, but I did not let her finish.

“I have to see them,” I uttered urgently. “I have to see my children.”

Without waiting for a response, I stepped out into the cool night air and ran to the woods.

Devon and Diana. My children.

The thought was both exhilarating and terrifying, filling me with a sense of purpose I had not felt in years. However, more dreadful thoughts came into my mind as I passed through the shortcut routes back to the manor.

What if they don’t want me as their father? What if they won’t acknowledge me? Had Samantha ruined my image as a father to our children?