Finding Camilla Manga 소설 & 이야기

she questioned, a bit disoriented. "The bracelet…I said, do you like it?" Charles repeated, and Camilla hesitated for a few seconds. Her mind drifted back seven years ago to Tokyo, where she had gone to secure a business deal. •~•~•~•~•~ Flashback •~•~•~•~•~ Camilla wore a vibrant red romper, her blond hair flowing freely, and she looked stunning with her light and natural makeup. She sat at a round table in the hotel bar, accompanied by her supposed client, a wealthy businessman named Austin Rivers.

"The real home. Not this one, not the other one. Our house." Camila glanced at me before answering, and I understood the question underneath the question. Was it safe. Was thirty days enough runway to relax even a little. "Soon, baby," Camila said. "A little longer, okay? We're almost there." Cora accepted that with the easy trust of a kid who'd learned, too young, not to push back on things her mother said carefully. It broke something in me every time I watched that particular kind of resignation cross her face.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm just so excited. My mate is close!" "What?" Camilla asked in disbelief. "My mate is close. I can feel him." Camilla could feel her claws extend as she tightly gripped Amari's comforter. Of course, Amari would find her mate before she did, Camilla thought. She continued to stew in her hatred and devised a plan to steal Amari's mate right from under her. "That's excellent news," Camilla said as she approached Amari's closet. "What are you doing?" Amari asked curiously.

The truth was going to change my life forever; hell, I wasn't even ready to be a father yet. Without thinking, I headed to Camilla's room, the same room Vespa occupied. She lay on her side, fast asleep, with her red hair sprawled over the pillow. I hated myself for feeling emotionally drained and guilty, wishing I could turn back the hands of time and double-strap my fucking condom. Camilla was born an Omega and wasn't an original member of this pack. She was shipped here by Madame and Olly, the notorious owners of the whorehouse, and her gigolo.

Camilla POV I consider lying but decide against it. “ Yes.” Diego nods slowly, processing. Then he reaches out and takes my hands, pulling me closer. "Camilla," he says seriously, looking directly into my eyes. "I don't care if you are a werewolf. I don't care if you're a devil from hell itself. If that's where you are, then I will crawl to hell with you." The words hit me like a physical force and tears spring to my eyes.

"He fuckin' drained Jo to the point of death, Cam. I doubt I'll be able to save her this time. She will be a vampire, and I didn't want that for her yet. Not yet." Camilla stood up, and within seconds, she'd pierced her wrist and shoved it to my mouth before I could protest. I tried to push her away, but she pinned me to the couch, forcing me to drink her blood. "Stop… you're hungry and not thinking clearly," she said. Finally, I relented and grabbed her arm, feeding on her aggressively. After I was done, I sat up and buried my face in my hands. Camilla returned to her desk and sat down. "Now tell me what happened calmly, so we can figure out what to do."

he gently reprimanded her. I bit my lip, trying so hard not to be affected by his husky voice. Damn it, Camilla! I wanted to smack myself for being so weak when it comes to him. "Aww," Mira pouted, waking me back to the present. "You can have more blueberries, though," I said to cheer her up. "And strawberries?" she asked innocently. "Of course," I nodded, glancing at Ares to see his reaction, but he was already sipping his coffee.

Tubes where connected into her body, tears welled up in her eyes as she held herself from letting them fall. She leaned in and whispered into Kayla’s ear, thinking that it was the only way Kayla could hear her. “Kayla, it’s me. Camilla. I just want to tell you to wake up soon, i miss you so much.”Camilla whispered into Kayla’s ear. She smiled as she leaned back, on her chair. “Brought a basket of fruits for you, will give it to the nurse’s.”Camilla said. THE MORRIS HOUSE.

CAMILLA Camilla stood just outside the room, watching the quiet unraveling. She had seen marriages die slower — with more screaming, more denial. But this? This was the quiet death. The kind that happened when love turned into landmines. She pulled a folder from her coat pocket and muttered to no one: "It gets worse." LIA The photograph Camilla handed her was grainy, old. A little girl — no older than six — strapped to a metal bed. Electrodes on her temples. Tubes in her arms. She looked like Iris. The file read: