No Turning Back

Camille’s POV

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

“A different marriage contract? To whom?” I asked, giving Skyla a cynical look.

Vikron, debonair as I already noticed him to be, sat in the same position, this time with his feet apart as he gently rubbed his chin, then tucked his hand into his pocket, maintaining eye contact with me for only a few seconds. “To me.”

I laughed humorlessly. “Oh, that’s where you’re mistaken!” I said, directing my most menacing look at him. “What is this? Some sort of joke to you?” I asked, allowing my anger to surface fully.

“First off, you had me drugged, dragged here, and subjected me to distressing questioning, trying to convince me that you had some kind of vision of me, only to end by asking me to marry you?” My nostrils flared as I felt the fiery annoyance rise within me. “You’re both crazy!” I sneered. “You know what? I’m actually leaving.” I darted toward the door, pulled the knob, and stepped outside.

I couldn't believe my ears. I wanted to go back and smash that wry smile off his lips. What the *fvck* did people really take me for?

For once, I hated to admit there had to be something that made people think I could be a pushover—someone to pass the order to, and she would shove it down. Father. Conrad. Mother. Sigewuf. Vikron. They were all the same.

The picture of Vikron as he spoke was etched in my mind, infuriating me more than I wanted. His audacity was loud. The *fvck*! I cussed into the air, wishing I had said it to his face instead.

If Sigewuf was annoying, Vikron was outrightly obnoxious!

I had no idea where I was, but I didn’t care. I bent down, fumbling with the lace of my boot when I heard the growl. Three large wolves emerged.

They couldn’t trick me into signing shit, now they choose to attack? I spat on the floor. Crazy freaks.

I pulled my hair roughly into a band. None of them looked like the wolf from last night, but I refused to think these wolves just appeared or that Vikron wasn’t one of them. The damn rogue would always be a rogue, alpha blood or not.

“You want the hard no, huh?” I screamed, hoping for no reason that one of them was Vikron, as I gave them a look that conveyed the full range of my anger, veins propped on my arm. “Come on,” I sneered, reaching into my pocket for my hand, but the dagger wasn’t there. Damn. I muttered curses under my breath.

“Looking for this?” Dr. Skyla’s voice came from behind.

I turned to see her holding up the dagger.

“Go on, boys; she’s with us,” she yelled out to the wolves. They turned, retreated into the woods, and vanished.

“I could have handled that myself,” I said, my hands shaking uncontrollably, feeling disappointed and more rageful that Vikron wasn’t one of the wolves.

“Of course, we could see that,” Alpha Vikron replied with a nonchalant half-shrug as he appeared from behind Skyla.

"Well, screw you and whatever you see,” I shot back, bending down to finish tying my lace.

“Let’s help you, Camille,” Dr. Skyla said smoothly.

My eyes flashed. “Fvck off. I don't need your help.”

“Your anger is a powerful tool, you know,” it was Vikron's voice. He had a contented smile on his face.

At Aston-Lakenheath, things didn’t get me this worked up or angry, but this man had a way of making my emotions climb over their limits. “Screw you,” I shot back, disdain dripping from my voice.

“I think you're having suppressed anger moments. You’ve bottled so much, haven’t you?” he mused, but there was something in his voice—an understanding of this kind of shared anger.

I had no idea when my arm left the lace of my shoe, missing Vikron's face by only an inch. My breathing was huffed.

“I’m not going to fight you,” he said, his arms crossed as a smile crooked his face.

It annoyed me.

I lurched again; my left leg gained contact with his side. I was about to throw the next punch when his arms, full of strength, pulled me by the neck, my back to his chest.

“I love this anger. But you don’t need it for me. Channel it to Sigewuf and your father. I’m not one to enslave anyone.”

A strange warmth, mixed with his scent, was beginning to douse the anger I was feeling. How could one person trigger me so badly and still weaken my defenses at the same time? I pulled away from his grip, but I had a feeling he also wanted to let me go.

I stood facing both of them.

“How does signing a marriage contract with you change anything?”

“It’s clear you didn’t say the mate oath with Sigewuf. That’s the difference. You’ll have to say it with me, and when all of this is over, we can break the mate bond.”

I knew this was stupid. Things could go south and then it might just be me, alone. But I stood there, held their gaze. “When do we sign the contract?”

Skyla smiled. “We could have the ceremony tonight.”

“Let’s get on with it,” I replied, walking past both of them back to the cottage.

“You’ll have to move in to the pack house,” Vikron called out.

I stopped in my tracks, half-turning to face them.

“Then why are you both behind me?” I croaked.

Alpha Vikron said nothing. He stood watching me, his head cocked slightly like he was in deep thought. Skyla smiled the way she had that morning, taking the lead as she held my hand.

“Welcome to the pack,” Vikron said, his voice almost a whisper, but I had heard him.

Turning back, he was gone. Like the wind, leaving behind only Vikron’s scent mixed with the smell of the woods behind.

I turned around, my hands clasped in Skyla’s. I had no idea what path of my life I was walking toward, but I was certain of one thing: there was no going back.