Chapter 103

DOMINIC’S POV I didn’t leave the bar right away. I couldn’t. The blood on my hands had dried by now, dark streaks that reeked of violence and guilt. The man I’d beaten—no, destroyed—was still being tended to in the corner, his groans echoing through the now-silent space like a haunting reminder of what I’d done. The crowd had lost its taste for entertainment. The fight was over. The monster had won. And no one wanted to be near him. “How long would you play this game?” My wolf mocked me, but I ignored him. I staggered to the counter again, my limbs heavy, my chest burning with a shame I couldn’t even begin to express. The bartender glanced at me cautiously, a towel slung over his shoulder, eyes flickering toward the broken body behind me. “That your handiwork?” he asked quietly, not accusing, just tired as if he was used to it. All the bloodbath. I didn’t even blink. “Yeah.” There was a pause. He waited, probably expecting me to walk out or pretend it wasn’t my fault like so many other