Chapter 33 – CAMILLE
CAMILLE
Iwatch Jax disappear into the darkness, his form swallowed by shadows between the trees. Around me, the last bystanders mill in confusion, some wolves still in animal form, others shifted back and reaching for discarded clothes now that the drama seems to be over.
Everyone can get back to the run.
“Camille.” Zane’s voice stops me. He’s already dressed, shorts and T-shirt slightly askew from rushing. “Maybe you should let Jax cool down. He isn’t in his right mind… why don’t you re-join the run?”
I groan in frustration.
“You wouldn’t say that if it were anyone other than Jax. You’re biased.”
Zane’s eyes darken at being called out, not used to accepting any insubordination, but he doesn’t tell me off.
“He has a reputation for a reason.” Zane’s a good guy, I know that, but right now, he’s being overprotective and judgmental. I don’t blame him. Jax put his father in the hospital. Of course, he thinks he’s violent.
Stepping into his space, I go toe to toe with him, narrowing my eyes and fixing him with the angriest glare I can manage, despite being more than a foot shorter than him.
“So, you’re telling me that his behaviour is out of character for a male whose mate is unmarked and, eh… unclaimed.” I shove down my embarrassment at having to explain my sex life to my boss and push on.
“Well…” Zane stops talking, knowing he can’t lie.
“Let’s not forget, he’s also being baited by her ex-boyfriend, who is inappropriately propositioning her during a full moon run full of the strongest, mostly unmated, shifter males around?”
Zane blinks, and sets his lips in a hard line, stubborn to the last. “If it weren’t for Kain and Eli, he would have attacked Raven.”
He points toward Eli, who refuses to confirm what he’s saying. “It was all pretty harmless. Just putting the pup back in his place.”
Zane knows Eli is downplaying how dangerous the situation was but he just sighs in exasperation when Dash backs him up, the brothers always of the same mind, there to back each other up.
And Jax.
When I let out a dark chuckle, Zane looks at me, puzzled about what’s so funny about this situation.
“Zane, Raven deserved it, and you know it. He’ll be lucky if he’s still got a mate when he leaves here tomorrow.”
Zane rolls his shoulders. “Okay, maybe you have a point…”
“Maybe?” I push. “So, you’re telling me that if you found your mate but couldn’t claim her for fear of hurting her, that you would act calmly and rationally?”
A hint of longing, of knowing, flashes across Zane’s expression, and I see it, clear as day. This is a man who wants a mate, who understands Jax’s turmoil all too well. “You can’t just do whatever you want.”
I shake my head. It’s like talking to a wall.
“Can’t you?” Lynn’s voice floats to us from the treeline. She walks closer, eyes never leaving Zane’s face, which is rapidly draining of colour as he watches her approach.
“So, seeing your mate, running side by side with all these powerful males who are looking for a female to breed, would be fine?”
The tendons in the side of Zane’s jaw flex, but he says nothing.
“And you wouldn’t care if someone, knowing she belongs to you, came to her and told her they should be together?”
Zane seems to have lost the power of speech as Lynn moves to stand beside me.
“It wouldn’t upset you knowing he wants to bite her, to sleep in her bed, to fill her belly with pups? Not even a tiny bit?”
I appreciate the back-up, but as I stare between them, I get the distinct impression there’s something else going on here that I have no idea about.
“I’d control myself,” he grits out eventually.
Lynn is amused by his delusional denial, her tone dripping in sarcasm. “Of course you would.”
But she’s not done yet.
“Even when you saw him lusting over her naked body, eyes lingering on her breasts, scenting her desire, and…?”
Zane’s wolf suddenly flashes in his eyes, and he surges forward, getting right into her personal space. “Enough! If any man dared to covet what’s mine, I’d gouge his fucking eyes out.”
Lynn smirks, victorious, as Zane stands, hands clenched at his sides, chest heaving.
“Not looking so controlled now, Mr. Bigshot Enforcer. But you expected Jax to keep his cool?”
Zane curses and drags a hand back through his hair, looking more rattled than I’ve ever seen him, and angry at himself for snapping.
What the fuck was that?
Needing to redirect this conversation away from whatever the hell is going on with these two and back to my problems, I try to reason with Zane again.
“If it were any other wolf, you’d tell them to get on with the marking. Which he won’t do while he’s under threat of termination. It’s a catch-22,” I argue.
The urge to stamp my foot in frustration is strong. Why can’t anyone see what I can see? That the mark will help him.
I see Zane’s resolve falter, so I push home by advantage.
“If he was so out of control, how come he hasn’t marked me? He doesn’t need to be assessed. He needs his mate.”
Zane groans, looking back and forth between me and Lynn, thoroughly ganged up on. Eli and Dash smirk, but don’t join in, knowing we’ve got the edge on this debate.
“Let me think about it. But keep him out of trouble, Camille.”
Nodding enthusiastically, I leave Lynn and Zane locked in some kind of unspoken debate. I don’t need to track Jax; I know exactly where he’ll end up when he’s done pushing his body until exhaustion forces his wolf to settle.
I head straight for the packhouse basement.
The broken chains are gone, but I spot new restraints coiled on a shelf, leather trimmed with silver threads, and gleaming metal.
The sight of them breaks my heart. This was his plan for during the full moon run, the one he didn’t want to go on, but I made him.
The one that was going well until Raven ruined it all.
I settle on his bed to wait and pull his pillow into my lap, breathing in his scent. From outside, I can hear the distant sounds of celebration as the rest of the pack enjoys the BBQ laid on for after the run.
Above, the back door opens so quietly, I almost miss it. But Jax’s scent at the top of the basement steps precedes him, and I sit up as the door swings open. He freezes in the entryway when he scents me, every muscle locking rigid, as his eyes find mine in the dim light.
He’s wrecked. Dirt streaks his skin in random patterns, mixed with sweat, that makes tracks through the grime. Scratches cover his arms and chest, some deep enough to still be bleeding. His hair stands in wild spikes, with bits of leaves tangled in the dark strands.
His chest heaves with each breath, ribs expanding and contracting too fast. His hands shake where they hang at his sides, fingers curling and uncurling rhythmically. This is from more than just exhaustion.
“Get out.” The words scrape from his throat like broken glass. “Now, Camille. While I can still...”
I stand slowly, the bed creaking beneath me. His eyes follow my movement, pupils blown so wide there’s barely any colour visible. A growl rumbles in his chest, so low, I feel it more than hear it.
“Still what?”
I move toward him, knowing that this might be my only chance to get through to him.
“Control myself.” He backs against the closed door. His palms flatten against it, fingers splaying wide. I can see the effort it’s taking to hold himself there, tendons standing out in his arms.
Instead of doing as he asks, I reach for the hem of my shirt. The fabric whispers as I pull it up, revealing skin, inch by inch.
His breath catches, chest stuttering mid-inhale.
“Stop.” The word comes out strangled. His fingers dig into the wood behind him. “You don’t understand what you’re doing. I’ll mark you. Claim you. I won’t be able to stop myself.”
Heat pools between my legs at his words.
He’s saying it like it’s a bad thing rather than the most natural thing for any two mates to do.
“I think you will.” I unhook my bra with steady fingers, letting it fall to the concrete with a soft sound. Cool air hits my skin, making goosebumps rise, and my nipples harden.
His eyes flash, hunger burning bright, before he squeezes them shut and shakes his head violently.
“Camille.” My name breaks in the middle, part warning, part plea. His whole body trembles now, muscles jumping under his skin, like he’s fighting an invisible opponent. “Raven’s a dick, but he’s right. I’m not safe for you…”
Now it’s my turn to disagree.
“You’re always safe for me.” I hook my thumbs in my leggings, pushing them down over my hips. The fabric pools at my feet, and I step out carefully, kicking them aside. “You’ve never hurt me. Never done anything I didn’t want.”
His groan is tortured as he reopens his eyes to see me naked now, except for my pale pink lace panties.
“This is different.” His hands curl into fists against the door, knuckles going white. “This is permanent.”
He’s so focused on thinking, on trying to control everything, that he’s not letting his instincts guide him. If he’d just stop overthinking everything, he’d know what I feel, that his wolf is quieter in my presence.
“And?” I move to the shelf where the restraints wait, the concrete cold under my bare feet.
The leather is soft when I pick them up, well cushioned, despite their brutal purpose.
Metal buckles clink together quietly. With one eyebrow raised, I watch Jax’s confusion with amusement. “What’s the worst that can happen?”
His eyes go wide as I approach the wall where the chains used to anchor. The metal rings are still there, bolted deep into stone, rust staining the concrete around them.
I run my finger over one, feeling the cold metal, before clipping the first restraint around my wrist.
“What are you doing?” His husky voice cracks. He pushes off from the door, taking one stumbling step forward before forcing himself back.
“Proving a point.”