The Lycan King's affection

CAMILLE'S POV

Breathing shouldn't be hard. But for some reason it felt incredibly difficult. That should have been a dead giveaway that something was wrong but I didn't move a muscle until the harsh rays of the morning sun hit my face.

"Goddess," Even my voice sounded groggy.

The weight and the pulsating ache in my temples was the first clue that this was no ordinary morning. Blinking against the blinding light, I found myself staring at a ceiling that I did not quite recognize.

The alcohol in my system had subsided so I could think clearly and I had lived in my parent's home for more than twenty years. Drunk or not, I would recognize our home's signature popcorn ceiling.

The ceiling I was staring at was smooth. It looked like white cement. It looked expensive.

When I tried to take a deep breath, I found it hard to take in air again and that was when I realized that the weight in my temples wee not the wonderful afterglow of drinking.

I looked and a gasp escaped my mouth. I put my hand over it to muffle the sound. Explain to me how a completely naked stranger was sprawled on me, blissfully oblivious to my awakening.

Did I? I was panicking. I could practically hear my heart threaten to jump to my mouth. That stressed me out more. Because the complete stranger that had made my breast his pillow would totally hear my heart spiraling and wake up.

To make matter worse, I realized that the dark haired stranger was not the only one that was in his birthday suit.

I looked around to see if I could make sense of what was happening. I could see clothes strewn across the room. My gown was on the floor, so close to the door that looked like it lead outside and my pants were hooked to the door handle.

By some miracle, the stranger turned and rolled away from my body. I stood still and held my breath in that moment. I couldn't have him wake up and make this moment anymore awkward.

I knew what had happened. I wasn't going to admit it. But I knew. The second I had the stranger off my body, I sprinted off the bed and attempted to gather my things.

I picked up my gown and untangled my panties from the door handle. That was when I noticed the key dangling from the door had a tag on it.

Room 56.

This was not an apartment or a studio. It was an hotel room. Somehow that made things better because if possible, I would love to avoid any interaction with the naked man behind me.

My bra were nowhere to be found so I made it my personal mission to find them. The walk of shame was unavoidable in this situation but to do them without a bra was out of the question.

I found my heels and with just enough luck, found my phone. It was on the dresser. When I tiptoed in its direction and proceeded to pick it up. I realized the condom on the dresser was unused.

Surely, he must have used a condom. Right?

I wish I had an answer to that. Because as much as I tried to remember the fragments that were at the back of my mind. All I really got were broken pieces of laughter, shared glances, and the hazy recollection of intimacy that lingered on my body like a ghostly perfume. But no matter how hard I tried, the details eluded me, slipping through my fingers like smoke.

The urgency to escape overshadowed any attempt to piece together the puzzle of the night before. Each clap of the floor beneath my careful steps echoed like a drumbeat of indiscretion.

I stole glances at the man in the bed, my heart pounding with a regret. The first time I decided to get wasted was the same time I lost my virginity and to a stranger at that.

I stopped at the door and gave the dark haired stranger one last look. His face was full and clean shaven. He looked like he worked in the office and his body, most of what I could see at least made it clear that he took care of his body.

"At least, he's cute."

I dressed in silence. The moment I was done, I attempted to unlock the door but some reason, the clicking of the opening lock sounded like a bullet in the middle of a business meeting. Then dark haired stranger made a noise.

I froze at the sound of a barely audible snore. Panic seized me, urging me to quicken my pace.

I turned to his side for a brief second. He was not awake. He didn't seem like he would even be awake for a while. When I was certain he was still asleep, I turned the key once more and the lock clicked open.

The world outside the room felt like a distant reality, and I clung to the hope that I could slip away without awakening the enigma beside me.

I stepped out of the room and shut the door behind me. Then I ran.

Wearing heels that clacked against the tiled hallway, I made a beeline for the elevator. The metallic doors slid open with a soft ding, and I stepped inside, my heart still pounding from the mad dash out of the room. The enclosed space offered a moment of respite, and I pressed the ground floor button, eager to put as much distance as possible between me and the half-naked stranger left behind.

As the elevator descended, my mind raced faster than the mechanical descent. I replayed the night's events in my head, attempting to extract some semblance of clarity from the foggy memories. A surge of anxiety coursed through me, fueled by the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

The lobby greeted me with a sterile hush as the elevator doors opened. Seven in the morning meant the world outside was still groggy, wrapped in the remnants of sleep. It was my saving grace – fewer prying eyes to witness my disheveled state and hurried escape.

Out on the street, I hailed a cab, my gaze darting nervously around as if expecting familiar faces to materialize from the morning mist. The cab pulled up, a sanctuary on wheels that promised a getaway from the surreal situation I found myself in.

"Where to, miss?" the cab driver inquired.

I rattled off my address, the words leaving my lips almost instinctively. The cab started moving, weaving through the quiet morning streets, and the rhythmic hum of the engine became a soothing backdrop to my chaotic thoughts.

Leaning back into the worn leather seat, I attempted to gather the scattered fragments of composure. The city passed by in a blur, similar to my clandestine night. I glanced at my reflection in the cab's window, the disheveled hair and smudged mascara telling a tale I wasn't yet ready to comprehend.

The cab driver, perhaps sensing my unease, refrained from engaging in small talk. Silence enveloped the space, allowing me to confront the jumble of emotions without external intrusion. Questions swirled in my mind – who was he? What had possessed me to follow him into a hotel? And what awaited me at home? Mom would definitely kill me.

As we neared my destination, a knot tightened in my stomach.

It did not help matters that there was a black limousine parked outside my house like an ominous specter. That was also the exact moment that I checked my phone. The do-not-disturb feature had been turned on. At least, I remembered doing that at the bar before I got wasted.

There were a hundred missed calls from both my mom and my dad. That was not even an exaggeration. There was literally a hundred mixed calls from them.

The cab slowed to a stop while I tried to conjure an excuse I would give to them for not coming home last night as I fumbled for cash to pay the fare, my hands betraying the tremor within. I might be an adult. But I was not really a free woman. Not while I lived under their roof.

With a quick thank you to the cab driver, I stepped out onto the familiar pavement, the weight of the night still clinging to my every step.

The cab rolled away, leaving me standing before the limousine.The first thing to catch my attention on the jet black limousine was the plates. They were yellow, a deep contrast to the car itself and they were branded.

Flowers. Lily of the valley to be precise.

To a man, that would just be a fun plate. But as an Omega, I knew. The plates meant property of the Lily of the valley pack.

***

I wondered what the property of an Elite pack would be doing in our driveway. Its presence there unnerved me enough that I picked out my device and sent a call to my mom.

She picked almost immediately. 'Hello, Camille. Where are you?" The worry in her tone was the first thing I picked.

"I am outside the house," I replied. "But there is a limousine in her driveway. I think it is the property of the Lily of the Valley pack. Is that not the pack Dad was affiliated with before he broke his allegiance to his Alpha?"

Mom did not answer. All I could hear amidst the static was her labored breathing. After a brief moment of silence, she finally spoke. "Camille, I think it would better if you just came inside. There is something you must know."

Then she ended the call. I let out a humorous laugh because of how serious she sounded.

Quick on my feet, I pushed open the front door which was to my surprise open. My steps were slow and cautious the second my sensitive ears caught that the heartbeats in the house were more than six. We had visitors? I continued onward with my heart slowly increasing with intensity.

The foyer greeted me with its familiar scent, a mixture of lavender and aged wood.

Yet, as I entered the living room, the atmosphere shifted, disrupted by the presence of strangers in impeccably tailored suits.

They looked like Sentinels. Why in the world would Sentinels from the largest pack in North Brookport be in our house?

My gaze met my parents. They were seated and holding this plastic smile on their faces. I knew discomfort when I saw it and I could tell the only reason they were masking how they were feeling was because I was in the room. Which confused me even more. Were we in danger?

Standing beside them were two individuals, both adorned in sleek suits that seemed out of place in our cozy home. They exuded an aura of authority that hinted at a world beyond the mundane.

"Sweetheart, we need to talk," my mother began, her eyes betraying a mix of concern and sorrow.

I glanced between my parents and the suited duo, a knot forming in my stomach. There were more in the house. They were probably hiding but I could hear their heartbeats. "Talk about what?" I asked, taking a step back and steeling my hands to my phone just in case I would have to use the damn thing as a weapon.

My father gestured toward the suited strangers. "These are envoys from the Lily of the Valley pack."

"Dad, I know," I answered. "What I do not understand is why they are here and what they want with us?"

"Mr. Gallagher is not your father." One of the envoys spoke.

"What?!" The laugh that left my lips were dry. Hollow even. I looked at my mom and then my Dad. Why did they look guilty? Why were their faces down? "Dad, what are they saying?"

"We are saying-" The envoy tried to say only to be cut off by my father.

"We will tell her!"

"Tell me what?" I demanded. "What is happening?"

"The envoys are here to take you. I know this must sound preposterous for you to hear but we are not your biological parents."

That sentence alone from my father brought my whole world crashing down.

I stood there frozen, my mind unable to process the words that had just left my father's mouth. "What do you mean?"I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

My mother reached out to me, her hand trembling as she placed it on my shoulder. "Camille, we love you so much," she said, her eyes brimming with tears. "But we're not your real parents."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I struggled to comprehend what was happening. The envoys from the Lily of the Valley pack stood stoically by their side, their presence only adding to the surrealness of the situation.

"Who are my real parents?"I asked numbly.

"The Alpha and Luna of the Lily if the Valley pack," my father–I guess I couldn't call him that now replied, his voice thick with emotion. "We found you abandoned in the woods when you were just a baby. We took you in and raised you as our own."

The weight of his words hit me like a ton of bricks. Everything I thought I knew about myself and my life had been shattered in an instant.

"What happens now?"I asked, feeling lost and alone.

"The envoys will take you back to the Lily of the Valley pack," my mother explained softly. "It is time you we let you go."

"I do not want to go," I retorted. "I am an adult and I am capable of making my own decisions. Like you said, I was abandoned. An alpha and a Luna of a prominent pack does not just lose their daughter."

"If you do not come with us," One of the envoys chipped in. "Your parents would be branded as kidnappers and traitors. You weren't just abandoned, Miss Camille, you were taken. You were switched. I am not sure how your parents can defend themselves in front of a council. Especially when your father used to be a Sentinel of the pack."

"I do not care," I retorted only to be slapped across the face by my "father".

"How dare you?" He spat.

The sting from the slap on my face matched the sharpness in his tone. I rubbed my cheek, defiance flickering in my eyes.

"How dare you?" he spat again, his anger palpable. "We have done nothing but live simple lives. We didn't commit a crime raising you. We just did one good deed. So you will return the favor, pack your things and get into that car. You owe us that much."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. The reality of being uprooted from the life I knew and thrust into a pack that, until now, had been nothing more than a distant origin, overwhelmed me. I felt a profound sense of loss, not just for the parents I thought were mine but for the identity I had built around them.

"Is that what you want?" I managed to choke out.

"Yes!" It was grating to hear. But it was spoken.

"Okay, I will leave."

Then the rage that seemed to be plasterer on my "father's" face diwndled. I saw him reach out, as if to offer comfort, but I pulled away.

The space between us now felt like an unbridgeable chasm. The family bonds that once seemed so solid had disintegrated in the span of a conversation.

The envoys, stoic figures in the background, stepped forward. Their presence was a reminder that this wasn't just a family matter; it was a matter of pack dynamics, of a broader world that held claims over my existence.

"I will go ahead and pack my things," I declared, my voice steadier than I felt.

As I ascended the stairs to my room, old memories danced around me like ghosts.

The familiar surroundings that once provided comfort now felt alien. The bed, the books, the pictures on the wall-all carried the weight of a life built on lies.

Packing became an act of detachment. Each item I placed in my suitcase was a step away from a past that crumbled like beach sand.

My "mother" hovered in the doorway, her eyes red with unshed tears. I couldn't meet her gaze. I was angry at her too.

Once the last item found its place in my suitcase, I took a final look at the room that held so much history and so many deceptions.

Rage filled me again. So I zipped up the suitcase, sealing away the remnants of a life that was never truly mine.

Downstairs, my "father" waited. His face bore the scars of a strained attempt at composure.

I descended the stairs, suitcase in hand, and faced the remnants of what I once called a family. A family that scattered like a house of cards in the face of the truth.

"If I walk out of that door," I told them. "if I step out of that door and you don't tell me to stop. I will not come back. I will not look for you."

The silence stretched for a hot minute. But it didn't take long for my "mother" to break. She attempted to run to me with tears in her eyes. But "father" held her back.

With clenched jaws, he turned to me and said, "You should go, Camille. Your Carriage awaits."

The envoys gestured for me to follow and I obeyed.

As I walked away from the only home I had ever known, I couldn't shake the feeling that, in that moment, that my life had been irrevocably altered.

CAMILLE'S POV (Three Months Later)

In the solitude of the Dumont family's new kitchen, I stirred the pot, the fragrant blend of herbs and spices enveloping me.

Cooking had become my sanctuary since I arrived in the Dumont family home and it had slowly become a grounding routine in this unfamiliar chapter of my life.

A soft knock interrupted my culinary focus. At the doorway stood a man with a basket of fresh vegetables.

"Hey, Camille," Hector greeted, his eyes crinkling with a warm smile. "What's cooking?"

"Something special," I replied.

Hector Menard was probably the one good thing that had happened to me since I was realized to be the long-lost daughter of Lucian Dumont, Alpha of the Lily of the Valley pack. He worked as a personal assistant to my biological father and was the son of the pack's Beta so he was always around the house. In this strange place that was supposed to be my home now, the goddess in her infinite mercy had given him to me as a mate and for that, I was eternally grateful.

Hector was a light for me in the Dumont house.

"I will leave you to it then," Hector said, dropping the vegetables.

Before he left though, he gave me a kiss on my cheek.

I continued my task, chopping the vegetables and sliding them into the simmering pot with the precision of a chef.

Once the meal was ready, I plated it into five portions and put them into a trolley.

"Let me help you with that, Lady Camille," A servant offered.

"Don't worry about it," I declined. This was my ritual.

I used my cooking as a way of reclaiming some sort of control in a world that sought to disrupt my sense of belonging.

The servants didn't like it. The Dumont family didn't like it either.

My biological father didn't oppose it. I wouldn't even know because we hardly talked. Since I had arrived at the family home, all I had gotten from him was a handshake. What sort of father did that when the daughter they had been searching hell and highwater for, for four years suddenly returned? I thought I would get some answers from him when I returned but all I got from a conversation I had to force with the man was that some malevolent faces switched me with Eva, my stepsister at birth.

Eva, my stepsister despised me. She didn't even make an effort to hide it. She could be an Oscar-worthy actress when father was around but when he wasn't which was more prominent than when he was, I was public enemy number one. In some twisted sense, I sort of understood her. While it wasn't my fault, my arrival must have shaken the world she knew. I couldn't imagine what it must have been like for her to learn that she was a stranger to Dumont's name and the Lily of the Valley pack when she had grown up with the mentality that she was going to one day ascend and take my biological father's place.

I proceeded to wheel the food to the dining room. When I was close enough, I could hear them chatter. It was a sharp contrast to what the room would have been like if it was me in that room. Sometimes I wondered why they uprooted me from the life I knew if this was how I was going to live.

I opened the door and the chatter immediately ceased.

Four pairs of eyes turned toward me. My new family, tied by blood, but not by choice.

With quiet determination, I took my place among them, wheeling the trolley to its spot.

Eva, the first to let out a whine, "Goddess, you cooked? Again?"

Alpha Lucien's stern voice cut through the tension, "Eva, be nice."

The command was as much for her as it was for the harmony of this newly formed family.

"We appreciate your cooking, Camille," Alpha Lucien continued. "But we have servants in the house for a reason. I think it is high time you stop doing their jobs for them. If the house bores you that much, you can pick up an interest in the affairs of the pack."

I heard Eva scoff at that. I nodded in understanding, knowing I would probably still defy him. I served my father first, then my stepmother.

Adele Dumont was the Luna of the Lily of the Valley pack. I initially thought she was my biological mother when I was returned to the Dumont house. But her reaction to my return was even worse than my father's. At first, that had destroyed me. To know that my biological mother had no love left to give me in her heart. But I came to quickly know that Adele never had any children. Lucian Dumont had married two women. Adele was the first but she was infertile and never had another so Lucian took another. The one that was supposed to be my mother and the one whose baby actually got switched. Knowing that didn't matter, considering she had died during childbirth. Eva had been raised by Adele. In fact, she loved the girl from what I could see but I couldn't say she felt the same about me.

I then served Hector and then Eva. The look she had on her face when she took a look at her plate broke my heart.

Placing my plate on an empty seat, I started eating, stealing glances at my newfound family.

Most of them started to eat too. Except Eva of course. She kept giving the food a disgusting look. So much so that it encouraged my father to speak up.

"Eva, dear, give it a chance," Alpha Lucien urged. "It is not bad and there is no texture to it."

Eva nodded and took her first bite The twisted expression on her face only became more obvious and she immediately spat it out.

"Ew! That is disgusting!"

That was when Alpha Lucien slammed his spoon on the table. The sound alone caused everyone to stop eating.

"Eva, apologize to Camille," he demanded sternly.

Eva scoffed, crossing her arms defiantly. "Why should I? The food is horrible, and it is my opinion."

"Eva!" Alpha Lucien's voice thundered, surprising everyone in the room, including Eva.

She shrunk, seemingly taken aback that her father would shout at her so loudly.

"You know what, I have lost my appetite. Enjoy the regurgitated vomit," she declared, pushing her chair back harshly before storming out of the dining room.

Alpha Lucien sighed, looking at me with a mix of frustration and disappointment. "I apologize for her behaviour, Camille. She is not usually like this."

I should go check on Eva," Hector volunteered, rising from his seat.

Alpha Lucien nodded appreciatively, and Hector left the room, leaving me alone with my new parents.

My stepmother was the first to break the silence. "Lucien, I think you should be kinder to Eva. Lashing at her just to appease...Camille isn't right. You have to understand that she's going through a difficult phase after all the revelations," she said with a measured tone. Then, she turned her gaze to me. "It would be the best for the family if the two did not harbour hatred for one another. It is the last thing the Dumont family needs."

"Don't you think, Camille?" Adele, my stepmother, directed her question toward me.

I could feel anger bubbling beneath the surface, a response to her deliberate provocation. I was going through a difficult phase too but I wasn't making it anybody's problem. However, I managed a nod, pretending like I could acknowledge the truth in Adele's words. "I'll go check on Eva, make sure there's no further conflict," I said, my voice steady.

Adele smiled, but I could tell it was plastic. "That is sweet of you, Camille."

I stood, feeling the weight of my decision. I was starting to miss home. The Gallagher home. At least I was loved. At least I was treated like a person and not an object. Despite my adoptive father pushing me away, I had called them since I arrived in the Dumont family home. They never once picked. Even when I used the cell phones of the servants in the house. It was like they knew it was me and they didn't want that stain close. That was what I felt like. I felt dirt.

The stairs creaked beneath me as I ascended, heading toward the turmoil that awaited. However, I was being the bigger person. Eva would probably use this chance to gloat. This was the first or the second or the third time she had done it.

In fact, the closer I got to her bedroom, the more I steeled myself for what was to come.

But when I reached Eva's bedroom, I was met with a sight that stole the air from my lungs.

Hector Mernard, my mate, was kissing Eva.

The fact that they were french kissing made it worse.

The shock held me frozen when I was supposed to confront them about it.

When the kiss broke, Eva seemed to snap back to reality. "Hector, we shouldn't be doing this. You have a mate."

With a conflicted expression, Hector replied, "I may be physically attracted to Camille, but you will always have my heart. If it wasn't for that forsaken mate bond, you know it is you I want."

The words cut through me like a knife, and bile rose in my throat.

Without a word, I turned and fled for my bedroom, not caring if they saw or heard me.

Once inside, I rushed to the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before the contents of my stomach emptied in a painful purge.

I was such a fool. Hector was the only one I thought I had in this house. He was the only person who made it bearable all these months.

I looked at the ring he had given me just a month back. I had foolishly believed what we had was special that I didn't even question how fast things were going. But I had been wrong.

He was in love with Eva and what I saw didn't look like it just started. Hector might have always loved her.

CAMILLE'S POV

I still didn't understand why after what I had seen. I walked back to the dining room like nothing had happened. My eyes were probably still red and I could still taste vomit on my tongue. But it wasn't like they were going to notice. I was a ghost in this house.

"Eva and I have sorted things out," I told my stepmother.

Adele nodded, seemingly satisfied with the response.

I looked at my food and contemplated whether I should keep on eating. I still felt sick to the stomach. What boiled my blood even more was the fact that neither Eva nor Hector was back. I wondered if they were still inside each other's mouths. The goddess knows they must have done much more than that.

Hector rejoined us soon after. He was happy. His smile was the kind of smile that showed all thirty-two of your teeth. It made my stomach twist and turn again. So I reached for a glass of water and gulped it down.

"Eva is settled now," He made it known.

I held on to the glass in my mouth so tight that I feared that it would shatter in my grasp. It didn't of course. Thank Selene. I didn't want to cause a scene.

"Hmmm," My stepmother nodded. "Camille told us."

Hector looked at me like a man full of guilt. It was for a millisecond.

"You were upstairs?" He asked.

I couldn't bring myself to answer. My voice would probably crack. I would break into tears or worse, I would vomit. So I offered him a nod instead and proceeded to start stuffing more food into my mouth.

Hector stood there, staring me down for the longest second before taking his seat and eating.

"This is good, Camille," Hector praised the food. "The moon goddess really must love me if she paired me up with you."

He had no idea how much his words made me sick. I wanted to take the fork in my hands and gut him in the throat with it. At least, his lying hole would stop it with the lies. I still didn't get it though. I still didn't get why he was doing this. If Eva was the one that he wanted, he could have had her. He was the son of the pack's Beta. He wasn't some lowlife. Whatever was between them looked like it had been happening long before I arrived. If Hector had made his interests known when I had walked into this house and the goddess had matched us, I would have let him go. But he didn't. He kept his affair a secret. He didn't even put an end to it. That was the worst part. He still wanted her. So why was he deceiving me?

Chills ran down my spine just thinking about how unhappy my life would have been if we did get married. I would have married a man who wanted my sister. Perhaps Eva's outburst was a blessing in disguise. I had to end things with Hector as skin as I could.

I should have said the words right there. 'Hector, I think we should end things'. It would have been dramatic but if he didn't agree, I would air out his dirty laundry. But I didn't say a word. Despite the brewing storm in my mind, I managed a smile and focused on my plate. I was weak.

"Hector," My father broke the silence. "We got a letter from the Lycan kingdom that King Dimitri Galdina would be fastening his visit to our pack. With the way his envoys are moving, I suspect that they will be here in two days."

"We will be ready to take him, Alpha Lucian," Hector replied.

I didn't know much about werewolf and Lycan politics but I did find it odd to hear that the Lycan kingdom, especially the king of the Lycans would be visiting the Lily of the Valley pack. Lycans were like distant cousins to werewolves but it did not mean that they liked us. Both species hated themselves. So hearing my father talking about receiving the Lycan king with glee made it seem like I was missing something so I stopped eating and listened instead. This was probably the first time that I had taken interest in the matters of the pack.

"How are the pheasants we are breeding?" My father asked Hector. "We have to make a good impression and what better way to do that than to cater to King Dimitri's tastes?"

"They are healthy," Hector responded, slicing through the tension with practised ease. "I've instructed the servants to maintain a vigilant watch over them while we feed them towards slaughter. King Dimitri's preferences will be well taken care of, rest assured."

"Good," Father said.

Adele, my stepmother, chimed in with a smile, "It's crucial that everything goes smoothly during his visit. Camille, dear, perhaps you could stay out of the kitchen when the Lycan kingdom visits."

I nodded, outwardly agreeing while my mind continued to churn with the unsettling images of Hector and Eva. "Of course."

Silence ensued and everyone focused on emptying their plates. Father was the first to finish.

"Thank you for the food, Camille." He said, getting up. "You are a wonderful cook but I believe you will make a wonderful addition to the pack's clinic. If you are free today, you should check it out."

I nodded, knowing I was going to defy him. The clinic held no allure for someone with no affinity for herbs or elixirs, and the mere thought of blood made my stomach churn. But I held my reservations behind a practised facade.

"We will be on our way then," Father declared, signalling their departure as he and Hector stepped outside.

As the door closed behind them, I sighed, happy that the tension in the room had dissipated.

With Hector now outside the mansion, I felt a sense of relief wash over me. The twisting and turning in my stomach subsided, granting me a momentary peace from the turbulent emotions that had churned within.

I finished my food as soon as Hector was out of the room and as soon as I was done, I proceeded to clear the dining table. It was a habit of mine having grown up with a close-knit family like the Gallaghers.

My stepmother had stopped eating as soon as my father and Hector stepped out so I figured she was full.

"Are you done, Mother?" I asked.

"I am," She replied and I took the plate only for her voice to cut through the quiet. "Drop it, Camille!"

"What?!" I was taken aback by her retort.

"I said, drop it. Let the servants do their job. It is why they are here."

"I just wanted to hel–" She didn't let me finish.

"Trying so hard to be loved and noticed is pathetic and disgusting, Camille."She cut in. "Whether we like you or not, you are here to stay solely because you are Lucian's daughter. You don't have to try so hard for him to notice you. If you are anything like your maternal grandmother, you will soon have every werewolf kissing the very ground you walk."

Her words hung in the air and I really didn't even know what to say. Her words stung. That was probably her intention. Now that father wasn't here. She didn't have to hide it anymore.

I felt small because of what she said because it did have some semblance of truth in it, even if it came from a cruel place. Yet, amidst the darkness, a newfound resolve flickered to life.

"I'm not trying to win anyone's affection, Mother," I replied, my voice steady.

"Camille," Adele scoffed. "I am not your mother. The bitch is dead."

Her words cut deep, but I refused to let them break me. Tears welled up, threatening to spill over, but I blinked them back. "I'm simply finding my place in this pack."

"Well, good luck with that." Adele sneered with just as much venom.

It would probably be satisfying to go down and dirty with her just like she wanted. But I wasn't going to do that. I decided that I was going to be the bigger person.

"If you'll excuse me, I need some fresh air."

Stepping away, I found solace outside of the house. The Dumont family home could be one big house but it didn't feel like a home. Which said something if the air outside the house felt fresher.

The morning held a quiet beauty that was a stark contrast to the turmoil within the mansion.

As I wandered, I found myself at the back of the house. There I found the pheasants that father had mentioned.

Looking at those birds from outside the pen was like stumbling into a secret garden. Their feathers were all over the place. Like, seriously, every colour you could think of was on those things. I didn't even know birds could be so fancy. There were browns, reds, blues, and who knows what else.

They kept strutting around like they were on some kind of runway too.

There was this constant soft chatter too, like they were having a meeting or something. It felt like being in the middle of a bird conference. And the way they occasionally flapped their wings made it seem like they were dreaming of breaking free. I could relate to that feeling.

It was just a bunch of wild, beautiful chaos. The kind of thing you'd never expect to bump into in the backyard.

Then, as if on cue, the servants approached with a bag in their hand that looked a lot like bird feed. I figured it was probably for the pheasants' daily feeding.

Seeing an opportunity to distract myself, I walked up to them and asked, "Are you going to feed the pheasants?"

They were nervous. Their hesitant nods were almost comical, like they were caught off guard. "Yes, Lady Camille," one of them managed to stammer.

"Well, why don't I give you a hand?" I offered, expecting some resistance.

To my surprise, they exchanged glances and then reluctantly handed me the bird feed. "Feeding the pheasants is crucial to the Alpha," one of them explained as if that justified their initial hesitation.

With a subtle smile, I replied, "I know you're prepping the birds for the Lycan king. I'll make sure to take extra care of them."

They still seemed uneasy, but they let me take charge. Dragging the bird feed to the pen, I felt a strange sense of accomplishment.

It was a small victory, but at that moment, amidst the vibrant chaos of those pheasants, it felt like a step towards finding my place in this unfamiliar world.

***

In the afternoon, I headed to the kitchen to prepare something for lunch.

Noodles would do, I thought but as I stepped into the kitchen, I noticed that there was a strange tension that lingered in the air.

The servants exchanged furtive glances at me while they whispered.

It took that much to tell me that something was amiss. So I asked one of the servants.

"Is something wrong? Why does everyone look pale?"

The expression of the girl I was talking to darkened. "You don't have to worry about it, Miss Camille.

That made things worse. Because as much as the servants were trying to hide it. They all gave me dirty looks.

"They're all dead," one of the servants who was bold enough muttered, avoiding eye contact.

"Dead? Who?"

"The pheasants we were breeding." Sgre retorted. "Every single one of them is dead."

A chill ran down my spine. Dead pheasants could only mean trouble, and it seemed the blame was already shifting in my direction. Determined to get to the bottom of this, I hurried to the pen, my heart pounding with apprehension.

The second I stepped inside, the sight that greeted me was a scene of eerie stillness.

The lifeless bodies of the once-vibrant pheasants lay scattered across the ground. Panic gripped me; this wasn't just a mishap-it looked intentional.

The accusing glances from the kitchen now made more sense. Somehow, the blame must have been pinned on me, and the weight of suspicion hung heavy in the air. I was the last to feed the damn creatures.

I was an outsider in this pack, and every misstep only widened the chasm between me and the ones who were supposed to be my family.

Desperation and frustration surged within me. I needed to find out who was behind this sabotage, not just to clear my name but to salvage any chance of acceptance in this unforgiving pack.

I had barely had the chance to come up with a way to clear my name when I heard Hector's accusing voice cut through the heavy air.

"Did you kill the pheasants, Camille?" he demanded, his eyes piercing into mine.

The accusation hit me like a slap in the face. "No, of course not! Why would I do such a thing?" I retorted, my indignation rising.

Hector's scepticism deepened. "Maybe this is your way of getting revenge on your father for something. You've been trying to find your place in this pack, and what better way to disrupt it than by destroying something crucial to Alpha Lucien?"

His words stung, and anger flared within me. Before I knew it, I slapped him. "I don't expect cheaters to trust anyone. But I do not answer to you. I didn't do it." I shot back, frustration and betrayal bubbling to the surface.

The accusation was not just an attack on my character; it was a blow to the fragile hope I had harboured of being accepted in this pack.

"The servants said you were the one who fed the animals last." My father's voice reverberated behind me.

I turned to face him. I hadn't even been aware of his presence. When I turned, I found his angry face just inches away from mine.

Startled, I instinctively bowed. "Father, I didn't poison the birds," I pleaded, hoping my sincerity would break through the cloud of suspicion.

It did not look like that would work out for me. His gaze bore into mine, searching for any sign of deceit.

"The Lycan king's visit is crucial for our pack's standing. Do you think I know why the fuck Lycans, our natural enemies seek us out? We are hoping whatever it is King Dimitri is visiting us for, we'll stay on his good side. If you are responsible for this. Camille, it not only endangers us but you dishonour your father and it doesn't matter whose daughter you are, you will be punished."

"I would never jeopardize the pack or my father's position," I insisted, my voice tinged with desperation. "You have to believe me."

"I do not," Father declared with an unwavering gaze.

"Take her to her room," Father ordered, his voice cutting through the charged air and a guard, seemingly materializing from the shadows walked towards me.

"Miss Camille, follow me."

I did not fight. I did not argue. There was no point in doing that. So I let the guard escort me away.

A surge of nausea overwhelmed me when we reached the door of my room and I couldn't contain the bile rising in my throat.

Before I could rush to the bathroom, it spilled out. All of it.

Vomiting on the carpet of my room, I felt a sudden weakness as reality crashed around me.

The guard, maintaining an emotionless facade, called for another servant to attend to me.

When the servant arrived with the tools to scrub my vomit out of the nice Persian carpet, the servant locked the door behind us while the guard stayed outside.

The servant who arrived promptly and immediately got to work, eyed me with a mix of pity and duty.

"Are you alright, Lady Camille?" she asked, concern etched on her face as she began to clean the mess.

"I am," I replied. "I'm not sure why I keep getting nauseated."

The servant paused, glancing up at me with a knowing expression. "Lady Camille, forgive me for prying, but have you seen your period recently?"

The question caught me off guard, and for a moment, my mind raced. Now that she mentioned it, I couldn't recall the last time I had. Panic flickered in my eyes, but I quickly composed myself.

"Oh, I am not pregnant. it's just stress and everything going on," I explained, attempting to dismiss the concern. "I'm sure it's nothing. Just a little under the weather."

The servant nodded, but her gaze held a subtle scepticism. "If you say so, Lady Camille. Should I fetch some tea for you?"

I agreed, hoping that a warm beverage would both soothe my nerves and provide a plausible reason for my discomfort.

When the servant left to prepare the tea, I couldn't shake the growing sense of unease. Dead pheasants. Now this. I had not seen my period, and the implications of that hit me like a sudden storm. Panic tightened its grip on my chest.

Could it be possible? The only encounter I had was that one-night stand with a stranger. My mind raced, connecting the dots with dread.

I was pregnant with a stranger's baby.