Cowardice

Camille’s POV

I stared at him for a long time. Was he dripping low on sense, or had his senses gone livid? What was he saying? You know what, up until today, I had always thought somehow, you were different. But no, you're a complete arse, and you sound more stupid than I ever gave you credit for,” I spat.

What a shame he spewed out such nonsense from those lips I thought held beautiful hopes and promises.

It wasn't him this time. It was the wavy, short-haired tagalong who strode toward me with fury in his handsome blue eyes. The slap was hard, forced—almost shutting up my airways.

“Shut the fuck up!” he yelled into my face before backing away to stand with the others, his hands tugged gallantly behind him.

I gave a painful smile, showing my blood-stained teeth and gums. “Does this make you happy?”

But it wasn't a question I intended to wait for an answer to. “How did you become this monster? This soulless, ugly monster building a wall around your innocence?”

He turned away. “There's nothing to say to you, Camille. You do not understand how ugly a soul can be until you look into yours.”

“Am I any different from you? You chose to run away first, chasing your ambitions. You hid the scholarship. You didn't want anyone to find out, now did you?” His eyes were hard.

“You became callous, and to avenge yourself, you ran away from your marriage to marry someone else. Aren't we all soulless after all?” he grinned slyly, his brow raised.

I was speechless. It felt like the air had been knocked out of my lungs.

“I'm burning them,” he said, raising the documents.

“That's very cruel!” I yelled.

He shook his head. “That's very cruel to me—the choices you've made, your unwillingness to see me the way I see you. Yes, that's very cruel. But I think we can come to a truce,” he added silently, before dropping the documents on the chair where he had sat.

“Cowardice,” I thought bitterly. I didn't say the words.

“Vikron won't find this game of yours funny, you know that, right?” I glared at him. “Just quit whatever game you've got stewing. I promise not to say a thing about what happened here, just let…”

“Just shut the fuck up,” he snarled, gripping my face with so much strength, like he was trying to control his rage; otherwise, he'd squeeze the life out of me.

He looked scarier than I’d ever seen.

Pulling away, he said, “You are like them, you know. You don't see my potential. You don't think I'm fit enough. You don't think I'm capable. But you're wrong!”

His shoulders stiffened. His eyes had a different color—full of anger and pain. “And even Vikron would see it.”

I sighed as he shuffled away, unable to calm my mind that was moving like a roller coaster—gliding up and down, zigzagging, but without the thrills.

“Cover her back up,” he ordered, his voice sending cold chills down my spine.

“We can talk this through,” I yelled, as he turned, walking back the way he came. I tried pulling my hands free, but nothing. I was probably going to die here, and no one else would know.

My mind wandered to Skyla. What would she think? What if they thought I had run away? Changed my mind and finally found a way to leave without being noticed.

Vikron. What did he think of me right now? Would they come for me? Would he come? A part of me hoped he would, wished he would, believed he would. But what if he didn't?

I pushed the thought aside. If there was anything I could do now, it was to wait—to hope. Hope that Vikron would show up.

Grateful I had signed the marriage contract with him. Even if Vikron had second thoughts about searching for me, probably the sense of duty to me would make him come.

I just had to wait. Wait and hope.