A New Contract

Camille's POV

Suddenly, I felt as if the air in the room had become heavy with tension. For what felt like an eternity, no one spoke. I felt disoriented, unsure of how to think or process my thoughts. I wanted to escape from these people who spoke as if they were stoic, assembling too many pieces into one small puzzle.

I moved backward toward the bed, away from those unfamiliar eyes watching my every move. Suddenly feeling unsteady on my feet, I sank onto the bed, put my head in my hands, and tried to replay every word in my mind, but it was too thick to penetrate.

Grandma Noa had told me countless stories before her death, and Vikron's was one of them. I had dismissed it as one of her tales, but I never spoke of it to her face. And after many years, that tale had become a reality—my reality. The traitor and banished alpha becomes what? My savior for just a few hours, and now a trap?

The sight of their reflection snapped me back to the present moment.

I knew she appeared unusually tall for a wolf—almost 6’4”—but what were the odds? We had a few individuals at Aston-Lakenheath who were like that. But a hybrid? What did she mean by her vision? Did Lycans even have visions? And if she had seen me, then why had she interrogated me?

How was he her alpha when she was a Lycan? Or had he...? I shook my head in my hands. None of it made any sense.

When I finally released my head, a wave of weariness washed over me. “I think I need to leave. This is all too much for me to handle,” I managed to say.

His sigh carried weight. “You can't understand everything right now.”

“But isn't that what I'm supposed to do? Understand everything?” I asked, casting him a menacing look, my left brow arched.

“I understand how you feel,” Skyla said, standing up with her hands stretched out, reaching for mine.

A fury churned within me. “Understand?”

I shrugged away. “Of course, you do,”—my sarcasm laden with resentment.

She pulled her hand back.

“And the part about you being a member...” I paused, dramatically gesturing in the air. “Forget that.”

“The part about you being the brother to Alpha Sigewuf—was that also something I didn't have to understand?” My voice was contemplative.

He remained silent, but I caught a glimpse of something before his facade returned: a muscle twitch in his face, causing his eyes to flicker. He had done that before when I told him about my marriage to Sigewuf.

I dramatically threw my head back and let out a loud sigh.

“I know you want to understand everything and feel trapped, but when I saw you in my vision, you looked desperate.” She tucked her hand into the small pocket of her jeans.

“The purpose of asking those questions was to determine if you knew why you were running away. I could tell you had thought about that,” she said, a self-satisfied smile appearing on her face.

“More reason I need to leave,” I said, grimacing at her.

“More reasons you should stay. He knows Sigewuf,” she replied, an unspoken weight to her words.

My lips pursed, and I pointed an accusing finger at her. “Now tell me—since you saw I needed help from whatever it was you saw, then I think you can also read my mind right now and realize I have no intention of being here.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Yes.”

If I was surprised, I made no effort to show it. “I'm done here, so let me go.”

“We can't do that,” she said pointedly, which clearly vexed me.

“Sigewuf was once my brother; no one knows him better than I do,” he said firmly.

“He'll come for you,” he added.

“What you know or do not know about Alpha Sigewuf is really none of my concern. I can handle him,” I said, turning toward the door.

Her grip was swift and firm. She stood in front of the door.

“You can't handle him alone,” he said, avoiding my gaze.

His hands, large with perfectly manicured nails, bore strange lines. I wondered if they were scars from different battles or if something special rested in between his legs. As he spoke, he momentarily lifted his hands to run through his hair.

When he spoke again, he did so with complete insouciance. “I don’t want to stop you or have you here either, but Skyla thinks you need our help.” He let out a heavy sigh. “Sigewuf is formidable, and you need support. You can’t avoid him by running away. He’ll find you.”

His mellow baritone wafted gently, evenly, across the room. “But if you choose to go, then you can. I don't want you here either.”

“Don't think about the last part,” Skyla whispered into my ear, squeezing my hand gently.

I stared at him, feeling raw and exposed—my thoughts chaotic, my emotions laid bare. “I don’t know. This doesn't feel right, and it doesn't make sense. I don't even know you guys!”

“Let’s help each other,” she said, glancing at Alpha Vikron.

"Everyone has a story. Vikron does too. I do. And you. Running away to wherever won't change anything. Running never solves anything,” she added, imploring.

“And whatever you are, we need your help too. So stay. This is the only thing that will draw Sigewuf to us.” There was a gentle plea lingering in her last words.

“The cursed brother seeks redemption, huh?” I said, not knowing what else to say.

He shot me a glare. “Maybe,” he replied.

I noticed a muscle twitch in his face, and I realized whatever had occurred was clearly a sore topic.

“So what should I do?” I asked, throwing my arms up. “I can't just sit back here waiting for Sigewuf to show up at your border.” Confusion mixed with anxiety churned inside me.

“There's one thing I think you can do while we wait for Sigewuf,” she said, her face suddenly set in a stone-like expression, void of the gentleness it had before.

I raised my eyebrow in the unspoken question.

“To avoid your marriage to Sigewuf, you’ll have to sign a different marriage contract.” Vikron's expression was inscrutable.