Hello, little brother!

Vikron's POV

Sigewuf's grip on Camille's hands was beginning to wear off.

“Let her go now,” I ordered, using my alpha tone. I watched as his grip loosened around her hands.

He was still in shock. I knew that, and I was glad I didn't shift fully into my wolf. Camille didn't bulge or try to join the other team members. She stood there at the spot where Sigewuf had let her go.

If stares could kill, I knew she wanted hers to exterminate me without wasting a second. Her stare was burning; she was hurt.

Skyla got the message and pulled her from the back to join the rest of the team. She hesitated for a few minutes and later joined the others behind. Women were A L O T.

“Everyone head back to the mansion. Our work here tonight is done,” I told the team, but my gaze was on Sigewuf.

I waited for everyone to leave, then I stepped closer until we could both feel each other's breath. I had so much to say to him. All the rage I had felt over the years, the hurt—I felt them deflecting as I stood there watching him.

“Leave my territory and do not ever come back,” I said, my voice calmer than I expected it to sound.

When he spoke, I could hear the tremors even as he tried to hide them. “Camille's mine. That's all I came for.”

“Then you didn't get my message before,” I smirked. “I wasn't asking you to leave. It's a command!” I growled.

Even if we had been apart for years, there would always be the hierarchy in bloodline. I didn't care that he was an alpha of who knows what pack. To me, he would always be little.

He straightened his shoulders and signaled for his men to run along; others did, except one.

Standing gallantly as if he could burn down the whole Skylanders territory—tanned skin, hairy—he looked familiar, but I couldn't tell where I had seen him before. He was probably his beta.

Sigewuf made the move, stopping only some distance away. “I'll be back, Vikron,” he snarled, then turned and disappeared into the woods. His beta trailed behind, following suit.

The first person to open the door to the study when I got back was an angry-faced Camille.

“Slave?” she scoffed. “Such a way to describe me.”

I said nothing. I was looking for a file I knew I had left on the table that night before we left.

There was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” I called.

“Stay back out,” Camille ordered, a strange fierceness in her voice.

“You should be resting right now, don't you think?”

“You should be clear on what terms you make people sign stupid marriage contracts with you,” she spat.

I closed my eyes momentarily, then opened them. “I had no idea that would be a problem. I had no idea what else to call you.”

She was pacing the study. “You had no idea?” The sarcasm in her voice was vengeful.

She stopped pacing, placed her hands on the table. “You f***ing made me sign a marriage contract with you. Didn't you think it would be decent enough to acknowledge me as your mate? At least you said it would keep Sigewuf away.”

“You signed the contract; that doesn't make you my mate!” I said, trying not to let my anger rise. “I didn't mark you. I'm not as stupid as Sigewuf to claim someone as a mate just by signing a contract.”

Camille scoffed bitterly, pulling strands of hair from her face. “You're a f***ing egocentric, obnoxious psycho.” She was cussing profusely.

“Watch it. You're in my pack!” I scowled.

“Then let me go. I don't think I need to be here.”

“You signed the contract, remember? You can't leave.”

“You drugged me, dragged me here, somehow convinced me to sign that contract with you, Alpha Vikron. Don't you think it's illogical to then say you couldn't call me your mate? What do you even want from me?” Camille's tone was spiteful.

“Nothing,” I said, focusing on the papers on my desk.

“Nothing,” she repeated the word, like it would suddenly make her feel better—like it would make everything make sense to her.

“You know what? I think you deserve a lot of things. Including whatever Sigewuf did to you,” I felt the blood rush to my face. “Don't try my patience, Camille,” I warned.

“Try?” She pressed her lips together, then uncurled them. “I'm not just going to try your patience if you think you can turn me into one of your omegas or slaves. I'm going to break that patience of yours.”

Camille was overstepping her boundaries. But what I was wasn't going to do was give her the satisfaction of a reaction. I had already made up my mind on what to do with her.

“I'm not going to call you my mate, if that's what you're aiming for,” I said, calmly.

She spoke in a clipped, biting whisper. “I wasn't expecting you to. I think you already have someone special for that. But that's your f***ing problem! But have this drawn out—I, Camille Loeka, would never be your slave. Not yours, not anyone's.”

She turned, slamming the door behind her as she left.

I knew she was referring to Ariella when she spoke, but I wasn't going to explain anything to her.

Beta Demuel was at the door.

“Need me to help put out the fire?” he teased.

“No.”

He raised both hands in the air. “I think she's really upset. I mean, you could have just called her your mate.”

“I can't.”

“But you can't claim her as your mate if you don't mark her, and that places you at the same spot as—” He cleared his throat. He didn't want to say it, but I knew what he had wanted to say.

I kept silent for a while, looked up at Demuel from where I sat. “I don't think I have it in me to mark anyone else a second time.”

He understood. He knew.

“Sigewuf would be back for her.”

“I'd have found a way by then,” I said, closing my eyes as I laid back on the chair. I needed some rest.