Chapter 7

• CAMILLE'S POV
• The floors of the holding cell were cold and unforgiving. The seconds felt like hours and all I could really see was darkness.
• Eventually, my sights adjusted to the dark but that did not make any of it feel better. Seeing my new home with clearer sights made me sick to the stomach.
• The stones were covered in moss and algae. There were bones scattered around and the rats didn't have a care in the world whether I saw them or not.
• Tears clouded my vision and I cursed the day I was discovered. I was better off as Camille Gallagher, daughter of a retired sentinel and the girl with simple prospects in life.
• The life I had now should have it all but I had nothing at all. Knowing that to be true made me want to die. The goddess must have heard my request because as I wallowed in my despair, the sound of footsteps brought me back to my grim reality.
• My heart pounded in my chest as the heavy metallic door creaked open, revealing the silhouettes of two men. Their harsh whispers echoed through the tiny cell, sending shivers down my spine.
• "This is her, isn't it?"
• Fear coursed through my veins because I knew a day hadn't passed and with the Lycan King in the Lily of the Valley pack territory, I would be fine for today.
• I quickly wiped my tears away, steeling myself for answers.
• With a trembling voice, I mustered the courage to speak. "Who are you? What do you want?"
• The larger of the two men, a hulking figure with a scarred face, sneered at me. "Doesn't matter who we are, little girl. Your time has come."
• I assessed their appearance, searching for any sign of weakness or a possible means of escape. But they seemed like men who had stared death in the face many times and lived.
• "Help!" I shrieked in the loudest voice I could muster. I heard my voice echo back three times before it dawned on me that there was no help to be found within these walls.
• When the men moved closer, I noticed the glint of steel in their hands. They intended to end my life, and I had to act swiftly.
• Channelling the survival instincts instilled in me by my sentinel 'father', I braced myself for the fight that was coming.
• With a sudden burst of speed and agility, I lunged towards the first man, aiming for his vulnerable knee joint. My target screamed out in pain as his leg buckled beneath him. Seizing the opportunity, I swiftly snatched the fallen man's weapon, a small, razor-sharp dagger.
• Turning my attention to the second attacker, I saw him charging towards me, his rage fueling his every move. I dodged his clumsy strikes, using my smaller frame to my advantage. With each nimble step, I aimed my strikes at his exposed areas, managing to graze my blade against his arm and thigh.
• But the fight was far from over. Despite my best efforts, their combined strength gave them an advantage. One of them managed to grab me from behind, restraining my movements. I struggled frantically, trying to break free, as the other prepared to deliver a fatal blow.
• In my desperation, I summoned every ounce of strength and defiance left within me. With a final surge of adrenaline, I twisted my body, breaking free from my captor's grasp. In that split second, I redirected his own attack towards his companion.
• The blade sunk deep into the second man's chest, eliciting a gut-wrenching cry of pain. Blood stained his shirt, and his eyes widened with shock as life slowly drained from him. I withdrew the dagger, my hand trembling with the weight of what I had just done.
• That moment of weakness gave the surviving one an opportunity to knock the dagger out of my hand. I was stunned and before I could react. His burly hands grabbed my face and slammed it against the cold hard wall.
• It felt like my brain rattled in its little box. My body lost its mobility as the man proceeded to slam my head again and again into the wall.
• "I was told to make you look like you died by suicide. But you killed him. My brother in arms. Now, I see why your stepmother wanted you dead. You bitch! I'll kill you!"
• My vision was starting to dim. I could feel warm liquid trailing down from the back of my head. Was this it? I wondered. Was this how I was going to die?
• Then the strangest thing happened. Another man walked in. His steps were barely audible. The monster bashing my head against the wall didn't see him coming until it was too late.
• There was a scream and it wasn't from me or the new stranger.
• Despite the excruciating pain surging through my body, I refused to let go of my will to survive. I fought back the encroaching darkness clouding my vision. Adrenaline coursed through my veins, fueling a desperate surge of strength.
• With a surge of defiance, I twisted my body, using the momentum to break free from the assailant's grip. As he stumbled backwards, clutching his broken hand, I seized the opportunity to retrieve the fallen dagger from the floor.
• The new arrival, a tall and imposing figure, stared at the scene unfolding before him with an intensity mirrored only by the fire burning in his eyes. He wasted no time assessing the situation.
• I struggled to maintain my balance with the dagger in my hand. Blood was trickling down my face from the relentless assault on the wall. Despite the haze of pain and disorientation, I recognized in the newcomer's gaze a momentary flicker of recognition, perhaps even sympathy.
• The man who wanted to kill me withdrew a gun from his side and pointed it in my direction.
• "Die, whore!"
• His fingers fit into the trigger but before the loud bang that would solidify my end registered, the stranger lunged forward, his movements fluid and deliberate.
• He expertly disarmed the other man, breaking his grip and rendering him immobile.
• The assailant's cries of pain merged with the desperate gasps escaping my lips, forming an orchestra of pain in the desolate room.
• Unlike me, there was no hesitation in the stranger's attack. As soon as the man was immobile, the stranger grabbed the man's neck and tore it open with sheer strength.
• I looked into his eyes at that moment. Sheer horror was evident in my gaze and then I noticed his blood-red irises. He was Lycan. Acknowledging that made me realize who I was staring at.
• He was the one who was behind Dimitri.
• As the atmosphere grew still, I met the Lycan stranger's gaze, now softened with compassion.
• He extended a hand toward me, offering assistance. The look in his eyes told me that he expected that I would take it.
• Gritting my teeth, I accepted his support, the weight of my battered body leaning heavily upon him.
• "Who are you?" I asked him.
• "Neal Galdina."
• "Who sent you?" I followed up, each word accompanied by searing pain. "Why did.. why did you help me?" I winced, struggling to catch my breath.
• "I work for my King. Dimitri Galdina." He replied, leading me out of the holding cell.
• The way he said it made me believe that Dimitri recognized me too. Or perhaps it was the mate bond. "Did King Dimitri ask you to save me?" I asked.
• He didn't answer. But I would be damned if I put my life in the hands of a complete stranger.
• I pulled my hands away, a surge of defiance coursing through me. Anger flashed in my eyes as I stared at the man who claimed to be saving me. "Why are you doing this?" I demanded, my tone laced with scepticism. "I demand an answer."
• The man met my gaze unwaveringly, his expression unreadable. "Camille," he began, his voice calm yet tinged with urgency, "as the descendant of a healer bloodline, you possess a unique gift, one that holds immense value to those who understand its true potential."
• I narrowed my eyes, feeling a mix of curiosity and apprehension. He knew my name. He was yapping about my mother's heritage too. The heritage that seemed to have put me in this predicament in the first place.
• "Gift? What are you talking about? And what do you even know about my lineage?"
• The man sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Camille, there are forces at play that you cannot yet comprehend. I know your grandmother was a powerful healer, respected and revered in her time. She possessed extraordinary abilities to mend wounds and cure ailments that confounded others. We believe her power flowed through her bloodline, and it now resides within you."
• "No, it doesn't." I retorted. "And what does any of this have to do with King Dimitri?" I continued, still wary of his intentions.
• The man's voice turned grave. "King Dimitri is aware of your ancestry and the potential it holds. His motives are none of your concern. So you need not worry about it. He never explicitly asked me to save you, but he intends to ensure that your life is protected, for the sake of the bloodline that flows within your veins."
• A mix of emotions swirled within me: confusion, fear, and a spark of curiosity. Could this really be true? Could I hold such power within?
• "And if I refuse the kindness of the Lycan King? What happens?"
• The man's gaze softened, and he took a step closer, his every movement imbued with a solemn sincerity. "Individuals in your pack want you dead. Will you stand by them or will you take the hand of a monster that is honest? We want to use you Camille because you have the potential to bring about positive change, Camille, and I believe that is why your life is worth saving. It was why I stepped in without a second thought. That said, my people do not offer free favours. You owe me one and demand you pay me back in full."
• "What do you want then?"
• "I want you to help my Kingdom." He replied.
• A cocktail of doubt and hope wrestled within me. Could I trust him? Could I trust anyone in this strange and intricate web of power struggles? But even amidst my uncertainty, I couldn't ignore the instinctual pull within me. He was asking for my help. He was honest with his intention. Unlike my family who stole me away under false pretenses and manipulation.
• He offered his hand again, "Help me, Camille Dumont."
• This time, I reached out and grasped it firmly. It was a symbol of trust, a precarious bridge I was willing to trust. Because anywhere was better than here.
• "If you can get me out of here, I promise to help your kingdom."
• ***
• DIMITRI'S POV
• "Do well to remember that vile as she is, my daughter is the granddaughter of Abigail De'crescent..." Yes. That was what I had heard the Alpha of the Lily of the Valley pack say before his sentinels opened the doors to the council room.
• The girl I had been looking for since my father's passing existed. Exposing myself to the werewolves and causing them to question why an enemy was doing a peace visit was worth it after all.
• I had been buried in my thoughts and in the wine in my goblets as I thought about my next move. I had instructed Neal to keep watch on the girl as I figured out a surefire way to manipulate the Alpha to hand me his most 'prized asset'. The same asset that was in the dungeons for my sake.
• The chicken on my plate proved it. I called a servant over to refill my cup. Their wine was the only thing I could stomach. As a true Lycan, I could only stomach a predominantly meat dish. However, because of my condition, pheasants were the only thing I could keep in my stomach.
• It would be a show of weakness to consume the chicken on my plate and throw it all up in a matter of minutes. It would shatter the reputation my grandfather had created for our kind.
• "Is the food not to your liking, King Dimitri?" The Alpha asked me.
• I took a look at the food. It looked good. It looked like someone put an effort into making it. But with me, that didn't matter. I returned my gaze to the man and smiled, tipping my cup in his direction. "I like the wine better."
• "Oh, okay."
• What followed was silence. But I knew the werewolf had questions. Lots of it. I wasn't going to be breaking the ice so I was going to push him too.
• "You can ask your question." I finally broke the silence, downing the red stinging liquid down my throat.
• "I hope you do not take this as rude. But it comes as a surprise to many of us that you are here. We don't know why and it–"
• "Have you asked the other packs?" I cut in.
• I watched the Alpha and his Beta exchange looks. The Menards and the Dumonts were no fools. Of course, they did. I was however curious about the results they got.
• "We did actually," The pack's Beta spoke. He was a rugged man. Tall as an oak and perhaps just as wise. "But they gave us no response. Which makes your presence even more, permit me to use this for the lack of a better word, unsettling."
• "I came to offer peace," I replied. "I ascended my late father's throne two years ago and I have made it my responsibility to access how those before me ruled. The one thing I did not like was the fact that they made enemies with the werewolf species. I want to change that. That is why I am here. To call a truce. No war among our species for the next hundred years."
• They shared a look with each other again. I downed more of the wine and assessed the situation. The dominoes were cascading in line. I just wanted them to dig their own grave.
• "No war sounds good," Alpha Lucian spoke, even though his Beta was clearly against it. "But why?"
• Like I thought, the Beta was smart. But being smart wasn't enough for a deal as captivating as mine. Of course, they would dig their own grave.
• "Why?" I repeated like it was the most ridiculous word I had heard in a while. "Do you not want peace?"
• "We do want peace. But I know Lycans. They aren't pacifist. Neither are they kind. There is something you want. An exchange. So for both of our sakes, I suggest you just spill it." Lucian's Beta retorted.
• I liked him. He wasn't the type to beat around the bush even if he didn't quite know his place in this world. There was no need for blood since I came to preach peace. So to calm my aggravated nerves, I downed the last droplets of wine in my cup before slamming it down. "You're right, Mr. Menard, Lycans do not offer free favors."
• "So what do you want?" Alpha Lucien asked.
• As if fate had willed it, the door of the dining room creaked open and in walked Camille Dumont, the girl I was looking for and my subordinate, Neal.
• The sights of everyone on the dinner table turned to the opened door and I proceeded to point my finger towards the girl covered in crimson.
• Her." I declared. "I want her."
• The room fell into a tense silence as all eyes shifted towards Camille Dumont. The young woman stood there, her face pale and streaked with blood, her body trembling from the events that probably just transpired.
• Neal stood by her side. With a smile on his face. I knew my subordinate and Beta. Only killing and winning brought that manic side out of him. The drying blood on his hand proved my point.
• Alpha Lucien's piercing gaze turned back in my direction and never left me. It was clear that my request had come as a shock, and perhaps even a betrayal. But I wasn't going to back down.
• "What do you think? Isn't that the perfect exchange?"
• "No, anything but that."
• "Why?" I demanded. "Isn't she a traitor that deserves to be punished? Rather than waste the life of a runt like her, give her to me, let me put her to good use "
• "She is my daughter!" Lucian shrieked at me and the entire room fell silent again.