Chapter 11

• CAMILLE'S POV
• Before I followed Neal, I asked him for some time. I used that moment to tell HR that something came up and I would have to take some days off.
• In the comfort of the hospital's bathroom, I weighed things. How much did the Lycans know?
• With what Neal had revealed, it was clear their connection was extreme. I knew a day like this would come but I never imagined it reach this magnitude.
• I stripped out of my scrubs and wore the dress I used with clients. A dark free gown that covered every inch of skin. My hands were the only things that were free.
• I covered my hair in a scarf and used the other end to veil my face before returning to the courtyard to meet Neal.
• "I see you are intent on keeping your identity a secret, miss Cameryn." He chuckled.
• I scoffed, handing him my things. "If you knew where to find my children. You definitely know who I am."
• When I decided to stay in Marblefay to keep the Gallaghers memory alive and fulfil my promise to my father, I found myself a blacksmith to fashion a knife made out of silver and wolfsbane. I cut myself on the face badly before reinventing myself under the alias Cameryn. A werewolf with no origin. If the Lycans had pulled in my records, especially the ones from the hospital, they would only see a badly scarred woman.
• "Couldn't you heal the scar?" Neal asked. He seemed keen on having a conversation as he led me to his car. "The werewolf healing factor is not the fastest or the strongest but if you can cure cancer, you should be able to rid yourself of a scar."
• "I want to keep the scar. It reminds me of what I have survived," I lied effortlessly.
• Neal proceeded to open the car door, his expression turning thoughtful. "I understand," he said, his tone filled with empathy. "Sometimes scars serve as a reminder of our resilience."
• "I could heal yours," I told him. "I always thought the Lycan regeneration was stronger. But I guess I was wrong."
• Neal caressed the scar on his forehead and chuckled. "Our regeneration is potent actually. This particular scar wasn't caused by an ordinary weapon. I survived a bomb filled with silver mist."
• I nodded in understanding. Trying not to act like that revelation unsettled me.
• Through the years, I had tried not to think about the Dumont family, the pack or the accident that happened that day. All I knew was that my birth father did not escape the explosion and had died. I figured with time, it would just become a distant memory. I was wrong.
• I settled into the car seat with the realization that the explosion had not been some freak accident but an orchestrated attack directed at the Lycans.
• "Plus, I like the scar. It gives me some personality and reminds me of someone." Neal said shutting the door.
• When he entered the driver's seat and fixed his seatbelt, I asked him, "Who does it remind you of?"
• It was a bad idea. I knew it in my bones. But I couldn't help myself. Neal barely knew me. Even then, the connection we had was symbiotic. He needed my help and I needed to escape my hell. I just couldn't comprehend a small memory that ended in the worst way imaginable being something he didn't want to forget.
• "A healer," he replied, keeping his eyes on the road as he started the engine. "She would have been the one to end this." He mused, more to himself than me.
• If there was one thing I had learned, it was that the history book on the shelf was always repeating itself. A part of what I ran from and found me again. But at least this time, I could actually choose. I would just heal Dimitri Galdina, take my children and skip town for a while. A vacation on an island seemed nice.
• The car accelerated into the road and I got another reality check. Was this fate? The children had always asked me who their father was. They had done plenty to figure out the identity of the man who left their mother but I couldn't bring myself to tell them the truth.
• There was also that tiny inconvenience I had almost forgotten. It had been five years but the yearning was still there and strong. The Lycan King was my mate. Again I had to consider if this was some kind of cruel fate. Then my stomach twisted into knots as I imagined the different ways our meeting would go. I remembered the face he had when we met the second time. Our first encounter was still a blur because I was drunk and foggy. It was clear the mating bond was one-sided but I wondered what would happen if I met him again. Considering it caused goose pimples to erupt on my skin.
• As if I hadn't been out though enough Neal's vehicle came to a halt, dragging me out of my flood of thoughts. I looked outside and a mansion behind a great iron-wreathed gate came into view.
• The gates creaked open, inviting us onto the gravel driveway.
• The mansion stood tall amidst the sprawling estate, an architectural masterpiece with towering columns and a grand entrance. Its pristine white exoskeleton exuded an air of true elegance.
• Neal, my forced companion for the day, stepped out and opened the car door with a courteous smile. "Welcome to Galdina Manor, Camryn," he said, handing me an umbrella to shield myself from the drizzle that had begun to fall.
• I gave him a weak smile to thank him even though he couldn't see it and stepped out of the car, my eyes unable to tear away from the mansion's impressive structure. Intricate details adorned the entrance, revealing the craftsmanship of a bygone era. It looked at least two hundred years old.
• A butler, impeccably dressed in a traditional black suit, emerged from the entrance with a similar umbrella in hand. He approached us with a respectful nod and extended his arm towards the mansion. "Please, allow me to welcome you, madam. His Majesty is awaiting your arrival."
• Without hesitation, I followed the butler into the mansion's opulent interior. The entrance hall stretched out before me, adorned with marble flooring and a chandelier that glittered with a hundred crystal drops.
• Neal was right beside me. As we threaded deeper into the mansion, I fed myself with the house's personality in hopes of getting to know who Dimitri Galdina was.
• The butler led us through a labyrinth of hallways, adorned with portraits of people I figured were family members of the Galdina household. All men with crowns adorning their heads. Men who had power and knew it. The last one looked new. It was the current king. It was Dimitri.
• I didn't get enough time to observe much because the butler was incredibly quick with his feet and soon enough, we arrived at a set of large wooden doors, ornately carved with intricate designs of mythical creatures and symbols.
• With a soft knock, the butler announced my arrival. There seemed to be a lot of giggling and talking inside so the butler got no response. He was going to knock again. But Neal took things into his own hands and pushed the doors open.
• The doors swung open, revealing a lavish room filled with antique chairs and pristine wallpapers.
• In front of the room itself was King Dimitri. He wore a perfectly tailored suit that looked like it wasn't of this century and a red robe adorned his behind.
• He was kneeling, laughing and chatting with my children. The sight caused my blood to run cold.
• "There are fishes and ducks in the pond. Do you like animals?" He asked, in a voice that told me he was playing nice. Almost fatherly.
• My oblivious kids both nodded with excitement.
• "Good then, I can take you–"
• "That will not be necessary, Your Majesty," I blurted out. It was like my body went on autopilot. "Step away from my children."
• At that moment, his eyes, piercing and powerful, met mine across the room, and a barely perceptible smile played at the corner of his lips.
• I felt it again. The overwhelming pheromones that his body was releasing and how it made my knees buckle. It had been over five years and the effects of the mate bond were still just as overpowering.
• "You must be..."
• Pull yourself together Camille!
• "Cameryn Gallagher. Mother to the children you kidnapped and the healer you seem to be looking for."
• ***
• CAMILLE'S POV
• He got up and approached me. I never realized how tall the man was which was valid because I had only laid eyes on the man three times. The first was hazy and he was naked. The second time, I was facing the council for crimes against humanity and the third... I swallowed, remembering the explosion. It was all in the past now.
• "Forgive me, Miss Cameryn," he told me, offering his hand. "But my men had to resort to kidnapping beautiful creatures like Collins and Sofia."
• I didn't take it. Not because I was wary or mad. I was struggling. His scent was stronger now that he was close. Against better judgment, I looked up to meet his eyes.
• They were dark. Ink black orbs that glistened like pearls. Now that he was this close for comfort, I realized how tall he was. He was at least 6 feet 5. I swallowed, fighting the urge to wrap my hands around the nape of his neck and bring him closer.
• It was hard to think or even function so I took a step back from him. "No need for introduction," I told him. "I know who you are. Just tell me what you need my abilities for so I can get it done and be on my way."
• He dropped his hand. He had this smirk on his face that just complimented his perfect face. Admitting that made me almost want to throw up. I figured I must be like this because the bond had been inactive for years. It was like an addict going back to their poison after surviving withdrawals.
• "You hate my house that much?" He chuckled, looking at Neal and then a woman who was seated on a couch.
• "Neal, could you take the children somewhere nice? The garden perhaps. I would like to have a word 'alone' with Nurse Cameryn here."
• They both got the message. The woman was the first to walk out. Neal had taken my children by the hand to lead them to the door but I couldn't handle not having them in my line of sight. So I spoke.
• "My children are staying."
• King Dimitri chuckled again. But the time, it sounded forced and hollow. He seemed like the type of man who didn't like when things did not go his way and I seemed like a woman who was not going to submit to his whims.
• "What you are about to see is disgusting to look at, nurse. If you want to traumatize your children. Be my guest. I was only being considerate."
• He meant it. So I had to concede. "Take them."
• Neal nodded and made it outside before shutting the door behind us. It was just the both of us now.
• "What needs healing?" I asked again.
• He didn't answer me. Instead, he walked to the table in the middle of a half circle of chairs. There was a tray holding a jug and a few cups. He proceeded to pour some water into a glass before walking back to me and handing me the glass.
• I took a look at the clear glass and then back at him. I was confused.
• Before I made out the words, he answered. "My people believe that the meeting you have with another will be blessed if you offer them a drink."
• "I am fine," I declined, offering him a smile before remembering he couldn't see my face.
• He nodded and gulped the whole thing down. "Are you wearing the veil to hide your scar or do you really believe I do not know what you look like?"
• It looked like he had always wanted to ask me about the veil. Again, I had to thank the scar on my face. It had fooled Neal who still had a vague memory of me and now it had fooled Declan. Maybe I didn't need to run after helping the Lycans. My new life didn't seem threatened.
• "The veil helps me concentrate on my gifts," I lied. "It is a mental thing."
• He nodded in response. "I apologize if I sounded vain."
• "The small talk is good, Your Majesty but could you tell me why you dragged me here? If you have a disease, just show it to me so I can heal it."
• "My disease is unlike anything you have encountered, nurse, I assure you." He answered.
• "I am here because you must have heard my feats. Whatever it is, I believe I can set you free from it."
• He chuckled again. I hated it. Because he had no idea the reaction my body gave when he did it.
• "I have heard your feats and they are impressive. Healers are rare but I have met my fair share and between the three I have known in my lifetime, you were the only one I have heard cured cancer. It is impressive but the disease plaguing me is worse." He stopped, gauging my reaction. His canines showed when he smiled. He couldn't see my face but he could somehow tell I took pride in my abilities. So much so that I did not believe him. "Well, I guess, seeing is believing."
• Without warning, Dimitri started to undress.
• "What are you doing?" I asked shielding my eyes and I wondered why. I had seen it all before. Once. My memory was foggy. But I didn't remember him being diseased. I would know even if I was dead drunk and my head had been clear the morning after. I remembered his head on my chest. He had perfect skin. I turned red just thinking about it.
• "Showing you my disease," he said.
• The red cape he was wearing was the first to fall off. Then he pulled at the buttons of his shirt and I got to see his body. It was hard to take my eyes off his rock hard abs and the happy trail right in the middle but I had to when the entire shirt came off.
• "What is that?" The words came out without me having to think about it. That was how shocking the sight of it was.
• His hands and back were covered by what I could only describe as jet-black worms long as tapeworms digging into his flesh. I couldn't even tell if I was fascinated by the sight or mortified. Perhaps both.
• "The disease has been in my family since my great-grandfather," he told me as I approached him to observe it closely. "My body constantly rots from the inside out. It is painful and inconvenient. Unbefitting of someone with my reputation, don't you think?"
• "You say it has been in your family?" I asked, meeting his eyes.
• He nodded.
• "When did this start?"
• "Like my father and his father, It broke out of my flesh when I was five years old." He replied.
• I thought about Collins immediately. I was going to ask more questions. But it was going to be suspicious. Eventually, the words came out. I was that worried about my son. "This disease has never left your skin?"
• His eyebrows hitched. Of course, they did. But he didn't think much of it. "I used to take a pill. But the disease seemed to have grown resistant to it."
• I felt my heart drop. Collins and Sofia were his children. If this was hereditary, would they be affected too? I took in a deep breath and calmed myself, reminding myself that I was a healer. I could always fix it.
• "Well, let us get you brand new, Your Majesty," I told Dimitri, my hands reaching for the affected flesh.
• But Dimitri flinched away from my touch at the last second.
• "What?" I demanded, withdrawing my hands. He looked almost terrified.
• "You can't heal me. Not now."
• "Why not?"
• "Like I said, you aren't the only healer I have come across. The disease could get worse if you aren't the healer I need."
• I sighed out of frustration. I just wanted to do this and get it over with. Now he was coming up with stories. I knew it was foolish to throw a tantrum but goddess was the man in thin ice.
• "So what do we do?"
• "A test," Dimitri replied.
• "And how do we do that?"
• Dimitri didn't answer me. Instead, he walked to the door and opened it. There was a guard at the side and he whispered to him. But I heard him.
• "Bring the infected in the dungeons."
• The guard nodded and swiftly left. Dimitri turned back to me with a solemn expression. "What?"
• "Infected? I thought you said your disease was hereditary?"
• "Well, it was until five years ago." He answered. "I had an accident and I almost died. My disease somehow spread to our werewolf brothers. You shouldn't worry about it though. For some reason, women don't get infected."
• The accident had to be from the explosion back at the pack five years ago.
• "You'll work your magic on the infected the guard brings and we'll observe their reactions."
• "React to what exactly?" I asked, feeling uneasy.
• "You'll see," he answered in the most cryptic tone.
• Within moments, the guard returned, leading an infected male into the room. He appeared disoriented, his movements sluggish and eyes clouded with pain.
• He was covered entirely in the disease. His seemed to be really bad. So bad that even after years in the hospital, I felt my food threaten to spill out of my insides.
• "Kill me," the man begged, crawling to Dimitri. "Just kill me."
• I didn't know what the man did or who he was. But he was in such a bad state, yet, the king of the Lycans still placed him in jail. His reputation wasn't so far fetched after all.
• It was none of my business though. I had my own shit to deal with. If this was what the Lycan King needed me to do, then so be it.
• I reached for the man's hand. It was wet and sticky courtesy of the disease. As repulsing as it felt, if I was going to take Dimitri's word for it, it was not going to affect me and if it did, I could always heal myself.
• "I am a healer," I told the man. "I can help you."
• The man took one look at me and scrambled back in fear. "Please, no more. No more!" He was shaking and crying.
• I looked at Dimitri to understand why he was reacting this way but then I realized something. The man's voice was eerily familiar.
• My heart jolted as I looked closer at the pitiful figure before me. Despite the disfigured features and the desperate plea, it was undeniable.
• "Hector?" I murmured under my breath.
• Hector Menard, the man who rejected me at my lowest. The cheat who had no spine to leave his truth was now a prisoner of the Lycan kingdom and diseased.
• Maybe karma was real.