A Contract Marriage

Camille’s POV**

I love to watch the sun set—not because it's such a beauty to behold, but because I hope tomorrow comes, and I can watch it end without it becoming my end. I scribbled in my old, leathery diary, a gift from my grandmother, before clapping it shut.

I had no idea what inspired my thought process, but I had developed a habit of writing whatever came to mind. Moving my thumb over my temple, I tried to relieve the headache threatening to chop off my brain as I walked toward the balcony of the pack's den.

I was fine. Literally. An indifferent kind of fine with a little touch of anxiety. At least I had been better before my mother had requested my presence downstairs, abruptly canceling my scheduled practice with Devon on short notice, totally ignoring the frown on my face as she informed me of a sudden meeting I had with my father.

My gaze swept across the territory as I stood there. This was the land I had been born into, meant to fight for and alongside.

Ashton/Lakenheath, the home of strong warriors. I had no idea what had inspired my ancestors to attach “lake” to the name because there really was no lake around here.

But like many of my ancestors, I had been born with natural skills to hunt and fight—not to mention, my sense of smell was a given. Devon, out of frustration that I would weary him, had reluctantly given in to my constant pleas to join him during practice and some pack patrol when I turned fourteen.

Unlike most girls my age, I had no business being the Luna in the palace, ready to fulfill the desperate wishes of an Alpha. I wanted one thing and lived for one thing: my pack. Getting accepted into the Lakenheath LunarGuard Academy had been a milestone for me—a golden wish on my bucket list.

Practicing as much as I could was a top priority. I needed to make an impression, after all.

I wondered which border of the pack's territory the patrol team was at now. It had been four hours since they left for hunting, led by my brother Devon Loeka, the formidable Alpha of our pack, and Conrad, the very prototype of my father—the most attractive man in our pack. At least that's what the ladies thought, and they would do anything to end up in his bed. Oh, and yes, my nemesis.

Like my father, Conrad's disappointment on the night of my disgraceful shifting ceremony had morphed into a bitter disdain for my existence. I had become a thing, not a person. I was worth nothing and deserved nothing for being deviant and bringing disgrace to the family.

A part of me had grown a tougher skin to mask the pain I felt. It was probably my fault. Maybe.

“Lost in one of your silly daydreams again?” The question cut through my thoughts, bringing everything to a halt except my heart.

My pulse raced at the first sign of the uneasiness I felt around her every time. Her stare burned at the back of my mind. Gruesome. Hateful. But I masked my emotions like I had learned to mask some parts of my life.

Turning to face her with an air of aloofness, I said, “Better than wasting my time having a tea party, chattering without a purpose, dear mother,” adding a little stretch to the last part to remind her of the relationship we clearly did not have.

“You little devil…” she shrieked, her eyes wide with disbelief.

She was a funny sight to behold: beauty but unthinking—a woman who had no voice of her own. She lived a life void of purpose. My insides churned at the thought. How could anyone live like this?

“You better fix that rotten tongue of yours before I…” I cut her off before she could continue.

“You want your little one to come after me? I've had a long day, and I need the meeting with Father to be over so I can do something else,” I said, holding her gaze.

“No wonder the goddess took away your wolf,” she clapped, sending a jab directly at my feelings—a subtle reminder of the pain I had to deal with every day.

“With a tongue as rotten and poisonous as yours, you clearly do not deserve a wolf,” she continued, her anger boiling over.

She kept speaking, but I blocked out her words, allowing my mind to wander through the woods, remembering each hunt I had embarked on, savoring the stillness and peace it brought.

“Are you listening?” she yelled in frustration as she yanked at my arm, disturbing my thoughts again.

“Obviously, no,” I replied, faking a yawn.

“That's very unfortunate—for you,” she retorted, her tone thick with resentment.

The wind blew strands of my hair over my face as I watched my mother. It was a cool night that clearly did not need this heated exchange going on, but I clearly wasn't going to let her run her usual taunts on me. At least not today.

“Your father has requested your presence. Be ready in ten minutes,” she said grimly. “Oh, and put on something nice so the guests don’t think you're one of the servants,” she added before walking to the door.

“Guest? Who said anything about a guest, huh?” I piqued, my mind clearly on the latter part of her command.

“What guest are you talking about?” I asked, suddenly irritated.

“Not that it's any of your business, Camille. At least for now,” was her terse reply.

What was going on? I should have suspected something was off the moment Father had requested to see me alone. It was a first.

Every meeting with Father had always included my brothers—Devon and Conrad. Something was definitely off.

I arched a brow. “Apparently, it's my business now,” I quipped.

“Rather than stand here arguing with your mother, which is a byproduct of your arrogance and rebellion, you should know better than to keep your father waiting. You have five minutes more,” she forced a smile, her eyes hard as she walked away.

With Mother gone, I felt my palm moist with sweat. What special guest did Father need me there for?

Pulling my hair back into a strap, I hurried toward Father's study. If I needed answers, there was no point in boxing my brain for something it had no idea about.

Two more strides and I would be in front of Father’s study when an unfamiliar, languid smell hit my nostrils. A mixture of freshly cut grass and thyme wafted through the air. It didn't smell like a member of the pack. Father's guest was probably here, but why had I not heard the sound of a car engine?

A tap on the door, immediately followed by the turning of the knobs. I didn't wait for Father to respond; I opened the door.

His back was turned to me as he sat facing Father, his heavy-built shoulders making a statement through his well-tailored shirt. He was probably athletic, but who cared? Even when Father lifted his eyes to face me, his expression remained fixed as he stared ahead, as if no one had interrupted his meeting.

“Good evening, Father,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting, but Mother informed me you sent for me,” I added, with a stifled bow.

“Very well, then,” he said with a stifled smile, his eagle eyes on my choice of outfit. I hadn't changed from my hunting suit.

“Mmmhh…” he grunted, obviously clearing his throat as if it were clogged. “Why not come forward so Alpha Sigewuf can see you, darling?”

Darling? That was strange, but there was no time to rationalize things. I stepped forward toward the area where he held out his hand to me.

“This is Alpha Sigewuf of the Darkstar Pack,” Father announced with a smirk on his face.

“Welcome to Lakenheath, Alpha Sigewuf,” I curtsied, catching a side view of his face. Chiseled cheekbones with thick brows, dark hair falling slightly above them. He looked…

“Thank you, my lady,” he said, tilting his head so that his full view was obvious, giving me his full attention.

Emerald eyes shone—fierce but dark. I turned away.

“Alpha Sigewuf is here to sign the final contract,” Father continued.

“What contract would that be, Father?” I asked.

“Your marriage contract…” he paused before continuing, “Alpha Sigewuf has just signed the final contract. The wedding will be tomorrow at Slantville.”

I felt my heart stop. Time suspended. The blood drained from my veins, and my legs suddenly felt like butter underneath my weight, unable to keep me still.

Father continued to speak, but I could not hear him. Marriage? The word echoed in my head as my consciousness drifted. I was going under.

And probably this time, I was gone.