CAMILLE'S POV

Neal's grip on my wrist was iron, a lifeline, and a shackle all at once. "Camille, this isn't you," he said. His eyes pleading and earnest while they searched mine for the woman he once knew.

My heart wavered, a storm of emotions threatening to tear me apart. "Exactly, Camille doesn't hurt people. But I will," I spat, trying to shake him off. His grip only tightened.

"Please, Neal, stop trying to stop me," I hissed, my voice cracking. The wolf inside snarled, eager to break free ...