Chapter 10 – CAMILLE
CAMILLE
Ipractically run from the clinic, my body still thrumming with unfulfilled need. His taste lingers on my lips. I can still feel that wild edge beneath his fractured control, the way he commanded my body, like he’d done it a thousand times before, and he’d do it again.
Focus, Camille, on the investigation. A very serious, potentially career-making investigation. Not on the way Jax held your hair and stared into your soul while you ground against his thigh like a teenager in heat.
Blushing at my wanton behaviour, I shake my head hard, trying to force my thoughts back to the case. Obviously, it doesn’t work. I can’t believe I did that. After he rejects me, I’ll have nightmares about that for the rest of my days.
Needing a distraction from my spiralling thoughts and some physical distance from Jax, I decide to head to the obstacle course first.
The huge field is full of apparatuses spreading across a cleared section of forest. Ropes and walls and balance beams create a challenging circuit.
I walk the path slowly, checking for any traces of magic with the runes on my knife that glow in their presence, but my concentration is shot, and too much time has passed for anything to remain out in the open, exposed to the elements like this.
The first rain shower would have washed the remnants away, but it’s still worth seeing the course in person.
There are signs clearly setting out which direction participants needed to move around the various stages. It’s hard to see how any wolf who made it this far in the competition could be confused by the layout, not unless someone was fogging their mind.
Turning, I rest my hands on my hips and stare up at the sky as the sun beams down. It’s a crisp but bright day, and the heat on my face feels calming, something my unsatisfied nervous system badly needs.
God, I’m an idiot.
At least with Raven, I had the excuse of youth.
We’d grown up together, trained together, and just assumed fate was working in our favour.
When we found out we weren’t fated mates, a pair of wolves chosen for each other by destiny, drawn to each other by a bond so strong, it’s impossible to ignore, it didn’t matter to me.
I was na?ve enough to think he’d make me his chosen mate, almost like a human marriage where you bind yourself to the one you love, instead of waiting for lightning to strike and your fated mate to appear.
I believed it right up until Jane walked into his birthday party on his arm, and my whole world shattered.
Destined to be alpha one day, his father didn’t think I was suitable, he told me. And Raven agreed. That we had fun, and I’d always be his best friend, but an enforcer, a female from a lower ranking, could never be the Luna he needed.
The crushing weight of those words still sits on my chest, making me feel less than. And every time he calls me or texts me, acting like we’re still best friends, and that he didn’t rip my heart out and stamp it into the floor, reminds me I’m nobody’s number one pick.
And now?
Now, I’m letting myself get swept up by a wolf who’s made it clear we don’t have a future. Chemistry? Absolutely. But a happily ever after? Absolutely not.
Until he says otherwise, I need to work the case and assume he has no intention of claiming me.
Or at least, the man doesn’t. His wolf? That could be a different story.
A vision of his wolf pinning me down, hot breath on my neck, as he bites down and marks me as his, fills my mind. It’s so vivid, so overwhelming, that I stop walking, staggering to grab the balance beam before my legs give out.
I force myself to examine it while I’m here, as this is where some competitors reported dizziness. The magical residue clings faintly to the wood, the barest of traces, enough to make the handle on my knife glow but still almost undetectable, even to trained senses like mine.
Briefly, I wonder if Jax could pick it up. His nose seems to be extraordinarily good.
“You might be a bit late if you’re looking to score yourself a date out here on this course. We completed this bad boy about a week ago.”
Spinning around, I find Ryan Williams, panting and sweating from a run, now smoothing his hand along the balance beam as he strides toward me.
His cocky grin makes my hackles go up, and I immediately see why Callum suggested looking at him first. Arrogant, competitive, and from a powerful family with expectations, he’s got a demeanour that suggests his ego wouldn’t take losing well.
“Mr. Williams.” I give him my practiced sweet smile. “Training hard? Feeling the pressure?”
His smile dims ever so slightly before it switches back to full beam.
“Have to stay sharp.” He moves closer, stroking a hand down his flat stomach, clearly trying to draw my attention to his abs as he lifts the edge of his T-shirt to wipe his forehead.
Shamelessly, his eyes wander, dragging over me in a way that makes my skin crawl.
“Competition’s getting serious now. Can never be too prepared. ”
Ryan hasn’t reported any mysterious symptoms, immediately placing him on my list of suspects.
He’s wealthy enough to buy black market artifacts if he wanted to.
Callum certainly thinks he’s worth watching, but as his hand runs right over the last traces of magic, and he looks momentarily light-headed, I question that assessment.
Is he clever enough to weaken himself by touching magical residue, just to put me off his trail? I’m not sure.
“I suppose so.” I let my eyes go wide, playing up the innocent act. “Especially when it’s been such a dangerous competition. Aren’t you worried something else might happen?”
His change in body language and attitude is immediate, real regret replacing his smug grin as he recalls what happened in the last round, when Wyatt almost died.
“Wyatt’s a good wolf. Better than I gave him credit for initially.” He scrubs a hand through his hair, suddenly looking younger, as he admits to being wrong. “I was an ass to him just because he was a rogue. My dad has strong opinions about some people, but I shouldn’t have listened to him.”
His remorse seems real. Either Ryan’s a better actor than I thought, or he’s shaken by what’s happened and genuinely ashamed about his part in Wyatt’s hazing during the earlier stages of the contest.
“Must be scary though,” I press gently, dropping my voice as if we’re discussing something top secret. “Knowing someone’s targeting the competitors.”
His laugh is bitter. “Yeah, well, if you want to be an alpha, you have to be able to deal with the heat or get out of the kitchen.”
I wince, trying to figure out that butchered metaphor but say nothing.
“I mean, it comes with the territory. Literally.”
Hmm.
“And it’s about more than just winning a pack.
Packs are passed by bloodline. That’s always been the way.
If we start letting just anyone win an alpha position, then soon all the old ways will be gone.
” He stops and scratches the back of his neck.
“I’m doing this for my future nieces and nephews as much as I’m doing it for myself.
Or at least that’s what my dad tells me. ”
When I look at him without laughing at his awful joke, or engaging him in more conversation, he seems to take the hint that I want to be left alone.
“Save a dance for me when I win this thing.” With a wink, Ryan jogs off, leaving me to puzzle over his behaviour. If he’s the saboteur, he’s doing an excellent job of appearing completely clueless.
And a terrible job of pretending he’s not certain he’ll win.
Still not ready to return to the packhouse and risk running into Jax, I decide to keep working and gather as much information as I can before I seek out Dean. The scent challenge location requires a longer hike, deep into the oldest part of the forest, but I’m halfway there already.
The marked trail winds through massive trees, their canopy so thick that it creates perpetual twilight and a blanket of silence over the dense undergrowth. I find the starting point easily enough, following the course where wolves were meant to track scents through various terrain.
Keeping my knife in my hand, I watch it start to glow brighter. The magical residue here is stronger and untouched by rainfall thanks to the branches above, clinging to certain trees and rocks like an oily film.
I crouch beside a particularly contaminated marker, running my gloved fingers just above the bark without touching.
The remnants of dark magic feel wrong, twisted in a way that makes my wolf recoil.
I can almost feel the same dizziness and dulling of the senses that the competitors reported.
Sniffing the air, my sense of smell is already compromised, and the magic was probably ten times stronger the day of the event.
This is powerful stuff. Whoever did this wanted to cause maximum confusion, stripping wolves of their most basic tracking ability to ensure they would definitely be able to win and progress.
Or make it obvious enough that someone is tampering with the events that the entire Games get called off.
“Why though?” I mutter, squatting down and taking some scrapings of the area and sealing the affected slivers of bark in a special evidence bag before sliding it into my inside pocket.
I’m so focussed running over the various motives for sabotaging the Games that I don’t hear someone approach until they’re almost at the edge of the clearing.
Only a slight breeze across the back of my neck has me sitting up and paying attention right before a deep voice breaks the silence.
“Talking to yourself? That’s rarely a good sign.”