Chapter 3 – CAMILLE
CAMILLE
Once alone, I unpack my gear and try to relax after the long drive, flicking through the papers I’ve spread out on the desk from my previous investigations.
The folder Callum left contains detailed accounts of the incidents, times, locations, and who might have benefited. I study them carefully, looking for patterns, because there have to be some. A common thread that links the suspected magical interference.
This isn’t random experimentation; someone has a specific agenda. Someone with enough money and incentive to buy a stolen magical power.
But the longer I stare at the pages, concentrating becomes increasingly difficult.
Heat blooms across my skin despite the cool evening air that’s billowing in through the open window, making the curtains sway in the breeze.
I tug at my collar, wondering if I’m coming down with something.
Or maybe it’s simply that my nervous system is overwhelmed.
There are a lot of dominant shifters here, which is not normally a problem for me in small groups, but every powerful wolf for hundreds of miles is here.
It’s invigorating and exhausting, all at once.
Giving up on the papers, I change into fresh clothes, lighter ones, but the cloying heat spreads. My breasts feel heavy, nipples tingling and sensitive against the soft fabric of my shirt.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I check the small wooden box carved with protection runes, needing the familiar ritual to ground myself.
Gifted by the witches to help protect me from the effects of the artifact, it seems prudent to make use of it now.
Taking out the opal necklace, I set it on the table, marvelling at the colours dancing within the pale stone.
As I examine myself in the mirror, my fingertips dance over the gold moon charm resting against my skin, glinting in the fading light.
It was supposed to represent a promise, that Raven and I would be together as soon as I got my wolf, and that we’d complete the academy together, living and working, side by side, before returning home to run his pack when his father retired.
We were so certain. Or at least, I thought we were.
Turns out I was wrong.
Carefully removing the jewellery, I consider putting the necklace inside the box and leaving it there. Instead, I pocket it, proud of myself for this small baby step. I’ve never gone a day without wearing it. Surely, this counts as progress?
When I touch my bare neck, feeling naked without the necklace, I suspect the answer is no.
Frustrated with myself for still being so affected all these years later, I step away from the mirror with a sigh and wipe my hand across my clammy brow. The cabin suddenly feels stifling. I need air.
As twilight deepens, I escape onto the porch, hoping the evening breeze will cool my overheated skin. Leaning against the railing, I extend my perfectly honed senses, trying to understand what’s affecting me so strongly.
In the distance, lights shine in windows across the compound. There are murmurs of voices, laughter, and joyful music, and the bass provided by the rhythmic sounds of continued training. Normal sounds that should be soothing but aren’t. Not tonight.
And then I feel it, not sure it ever went away; a sense that someone’s watching me.
My first thought is Kain, maybe coming to see why an enforcer is here, sniffing around the competition. But as I focus on the sensation, a twist of pure need coils low in my belly, and I know this is something entirely different.
This isn’t the calculated assessment he was giving me earlier. This is... God, I don’t have words for what this is.
The presence feels wild and dangerous, in a way that should terrify me, but instead, it’s making my thighs clench.
My wolf rises with shocking eagerness, practically purring at the unseen watcher’s attention. The sensation is coming from the dense trees to the east, and every instinct screams at me to go to him.
Him, because somehow, I know it’s male. I can feel his hunger matching mine from across the darkness.
“You might as well come out and say hello,” I say conversationally, although my voice comes out huskier than intended. “I know you’re there.”
Silence answers me, but the weight of his gaze intensifies.
I breathe deeply, and that’s when his scent hits me. Like midnight storms and dark forests, something primal and dangerous, that makes my wolf push against my control with unprecedented force.
My body responds instantly. Heat pools between my legs, my breasts heavy and aching, every nerve ending suddenly, desperately, alive. I grip the porch railing to keep from staggering.
She likes this untamed hunger. Wants it. Wants him.
Mine. The possessive thought whispers through my mind, and I can’t tell if it’s my wolf or me anymore. But I know exactly what this means.
“What the hell?” I mutter, forcing her back, but she paces impatiently, waiting for another chance to surface.
I should be terrified. This wolf, because he’s definitely a wolf, radiates a wildness that speaks of barely leashed violence. There’s something fractured in that power, but instead of fear, all I feel is excitement.
I want to see him. I want to run into those trees and find him, let him do whatever he’s thinking about as he watches me. Because I can feel his desire too, matching mine and feeding it until I’m practically panting.
The wind shifts, and I get another trace of his scent. My knees actually buckle. I’ve never reacted to anyone like this. Since Raven, no other wolf has been able to catch my attention.
Until now.
A tiny growl escapes me, part frustration and part invitation. Come to me, it says. Stop hiding and claim what we both know you want.
The sound seems to startle us both. The presence wavers, his shock at our connection is as palpable as mine.
For a moment, I think he’ll emerge from the shadows, striding forth to take what’s his.
Anticipation builds within me until I can barely breathe, before my hopes are dashed, and a familiar feeling of dread seeps into my bones as the male pours cold water over my dreams.
Instead of crossing the clearing to take me as his, he retreats. The forest swallows him, leaving only the lingering trace of that devastating scent and the ache of unmet need.
I stumble back inside and then lock the door with shaking hands. My body still burns, still wants, still calls for the stranger in the woods. Ten years as an investigator, six as a specialized enforcer, and nothing has affected me like that brief, unseen encounter.
My wolf whines, wanting to hunt him down. Her mate. He must be.
But the human part of me is terrified. Not of his wildness, God help me, that actually attracted me even more. No, I’m terrified because whoever was watching me from the shadows didn’t come forward to claim me.
He ran, turning his back on our bond.
And I’ll be damned if I make a fool of myself over another wolf who doesn’t want me.