CAMILLE'S POV

My hands had become pure light. The pain in my body was slowly subsiding and I watched in awe as the bone sticking out of me retracted in place and the hole in my chest sealed up.

New strength enveloped me and, amidst the chaos, a flicker of determination ignited within me. With every ounce of my new strength, I forced myself to my feet, refusing to let despair consume me completely.

Crawling, stumbling, and gasping for air, I inched myself toward Neal's unconscious form once more. Blood from a pool of crimson surrounding him stained my hands, which were still glowing and an idea clicked in my mind.

When I reached him, I clutched his blood-soaked clothing, my trembling hands fumbling with desperation to find a pulse. My fingers pressed against his neck, searching for any sign of life amid the chaos. And there it was, faint yet undeniable—the faint thud of his heartbeat.

Relief washed over me, albeit fleetingly, as I realized he was still clinging to life. But time was slipping away, and every passing moment was crucial. With an iron will and renewed hope, I put my hand over his body and prayed that whatever miracle had happened to me ran over. I whispered a prayer to the goddess and closed my eyes, hoping for the best.

I needed the best right now.

When I opened my eyes, I noticed the gash on his head was closing up. As if the hands of time were spinning backwards to return what was lost.

At first, it filled me with joy. I was saving a life. Then the grim truth settled in. I was a healer. Just like my grandmother.

My state of mind must have also realized what that meant for us because the light in my hands started to dim.

"No," I whispered, horrified as the beautiful blue glow began to die before extinguishing completely.

I shut my eyes, trying to bring it back. But nothing was happening. The gash on Neal's skull hadn't completely closed up. But touching his pulse assured me that he was better than before.

So I proceeded to tear a loose piece of my shirt. Using the torn fabric, I fashioned a makeshift bandage to apply pressure to the small gash on his forehead, attempting to stem the bleeding. My powers had eluded me but, I couldn't allow that to hinder me from doing everything in my power to save Neal.

Every second felt like an eternity as I tried to stabilize him, attempting to buy precious moments that could be the difference between life and death. Despite the mental torture threatening to engulf me now that it was confirmed that I was a healer, I kept pushing forward, fueled by sheer determination and the flickering desire to save a good man's life.

Suddenly, a voice pierced through the chaos, barely audible amidst the devastation.

It was a rescue team of sentinels, their distant shouts deadened my resolve. I knew I couldn't stay. Neal would live. The rescue team sounded close. So they would find him first.

My life would be more than hell if my father realized I was indeed a healer like he had suspected. King Dimitri also wanted me for the same reason. There was also the issue of the mate bond and my... I put my hand to my stomach. If I stayed, my life was only going to get even more complicated.

I could picture the bloodshed and I would be right in the middle of it.

I looked around. Dust and smoke from the explosion still clouded the entire room.

With the last reserves of my strength, I managed to drag myself towards an exit the explosion had made.

No one saw me. If they did, I doubted they cared.

I stumbled towards the exit, my body ached with exhaustion and pain. The chaos and screams echoed in the distance as I fought to escape, my every step fueled by sheer determination. The weight of my secret, the burden of my abilities, and the danger that surrounded me weighed heavy on my conscience.

Realizing that time was of the essence, I pushed forward, my heart pounding in my chest. The pack territory stretched out before me, ominous, familiar and alien.

The trees and air whispered to my burning ear as I weaved through the thick underbrush, my senses on high alert.

The scent of blood and fear still clung to my body, mingling with the acrid smoke that billowed from the remnants of the explosion.

Every rustle of leaves had me on edge, my instincts urging me to keep moving, to find sanctuary in the depths of the forest.

I sprinted with all the speed I could muster, my legs burning with exertion. The pain in my abdomen intensified, a reminder of the life dependent on my choices. Thoughts of leaving my mate, the one I was supposed to have a deeply personal connection with, tightened the knot of fear within me. Was he safe? Should I go back?

A thousand thoughts ran in my head and I contemplated the possible outcomes if I dared to stay.

Betrayal, bloodshed, and the unrelenting pressure to fulfil my destined role as a healer consumed my thoughts. But what of my own desires? Did I dare turn my back on the life I had fortunately been born into for the one who sought to control and manipulate me?

Reaching the outskirts of the territory, I cast one last glance back, the flickering flames painting a macabre scene of destruction. Realizing that there was no turning back, I took a deep breath and plunged into the dense forest, my footsteps swallowed by the hushed stillness.

The dense canopy above shielded me from prying eyes, giving me a semblance of cover. As I ran deeper into the woods, my pace slowed, allowing me to catch my breath. The adrenaline slowly ebbed away, leaving me with all the emotions I had buried while I focused on running.

I dropped to my knees and tears bleed out of my eyes, blurring my vision and sending my hands to the earth.

I was free. I, Camille Du... No. I wasn't a Dumont. I was a Gallagher. I Camile Gallagher was free and I missed my family.

The one that actually loved me.

***

My legs ached as I stumbled onto the road. I must have looked a sight. My hair, a dishevelled mop, tangled and stained with blood. Ash and dust clung to my battered body, while torn clothing and bloodied jeans adorned me as if I'd emerged from a battlefield. Tears streamed down my face as I weakly waved down a passing truck.

"Are you alright, miss?" the driver asked, concern evident in his tone as he pulled over the truck.

I wiped my tears away and gave a weak nod, trying my best to compose myself. "I am alright," I finally managed to croak, my voice filled with exhaustion. "I am alright now. What route are you going?"

The driver's brows furrowed as he took in my dishevelled appearance. "Are you sure you don't need help? Are you hurt?" he continued to probe. It was out of genuine worry. I could see it etched on his face. But what I needed was a ride and not a kind samaritan.

"I fell while hiking. I am better now."

"Where do you want to go?" He asked.

"Marblefay," I replied.

"I'll be passing that route. Get on."

"Thanks," I whispered, immediately climbing into the passenger seat.

Now that I was free. I was going to see my family. I was going to beg them to stay. It had been more than cruel the last time. My months at the Dumont house had made me understand why my adopted father had pushed me away. To keep his family safe. Somehow I had ended up in his arms and he had chosen to protect me. He didn't deserve to be punished for his act of kindness.

I settled into the passenger seat, with all these warm thoughts. The warmth of the truck also offered a sense of comfort against the chilling evening air. The driver glanced at me once more, concern evident in his eyes, before he started the engine and manoeuvred the car back onto the road.

We embarked on our journey in silence, the only sound being the soft hum of the engine and the occasional whir of passing headlights. I could feel the weight of exhaustion pulling at my eyelids, but I resisted the urge to close them. There was a lingering heaviness in my heart that I couldn't shake off.

I wondered if going right to them was smart or safe too. When my father realized I was missing, the Gallagher house would probably be the first place that he would visit.

Thinking about it made me shudder. I considered stopping the driver. Perhaps I should forget my family and everything and start afresh. I still had money the Gallaghers prepared for my college stashed somewhere. I could start a small simple life with it far away.

As the miles passed by, the driver glanced at me. I noticed him staring so I turned to face him

"Marblefay, huh?" he finally spoke, breaking the silence.

I nodded, my gaze returning to the darkening road ahead. "Yeah, it's where my grandmother lives. Haven't visited her in a long time," I lied, the question seemed unnecessary and I needed to play it safe.

Unlike most werewolf shifters, I wasn't blessed by the goddess. At least not until earlier today. I stared at my hands, remembering how they had glowed in the midst of all that blood, rubble and flames. I was convinced I had been born an omega as I couldn't regenerate or shift into my wolf. But healing was what I had. If my good Samaritan on the wheels turned out to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, I had no means to defend myself.

The training my adoptive father gave me wouldn't help either. The last thing I wanted was an accident.

The driver's eyes softened, "It's always important to stay connected with family," he said gently. "I'm sure your grandmother will be glad to see you."

A lump formed in my throat as memories of my life spent in Marblefay flooded my mind. The scent of freshly baked cookies in my adoptive mother's cosy kitchen, the warmth of my adoptive father's embrace when I returned home, and the sound of our laughter, which annoyed our neighbours by the way, echoing through the old, creaky house I called home. It felt like another lifetime, another world. I yearned to go back, to find peace in the familiar.

"I hope they are," I whispered, more to myself than the man.

After what felt like an eternity, we finally approached the outskirts of Marblefay. The driver slowed down and pulled up to the side of the road. "This is as far as I can go," he said, turning to face me.

I mustered a weak smile, my voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you, really. I appreciate your kindness."

He nodded, returning the smile. "Take care of yourself, alright? And next time you go hiking, take someone with you. The trails there are no joke."

I thanked him once more and stepped out of the truck, waving at him as he turned his truck around and soon disappeared from my sight.

It was dark but I wasn't too far from home. I resumed my journey in solitary, my steps guided by the clouded light of the moon.

The goddess was with me.

Soon a familiar structure emerged in the distance and a smile crept up my mouth. My tired legs got strength and I broke into a small run.

From a jog, I broke into a sprint and soon enough, I was at the door of my home and pounding on the door relentlessly. It was the only sound that pierced through the night, drowning the cries of toads and crickets.

Mom! Dad! It's me, Camille!" I yelled, tears clouding my eyes because I hoped they would come up and answer me.

I hoped they hadn't forgotten about me. I hoped they still...loved me.

Eventually, I heard something. Footsteps. I heard someone approach the door, and I heard the latch being undone. Hope surged within me as the doorknob twisted and the door slowly creaked open.

But my smile faded instantly when, instead of my parents, my uncle and his wife stood before me.

My uncle held a bat in his hand, his expression told me he was going to swing it and that expression still stood in place even when he realized who I was.

"What do you want Camille?" my uncle demanded, his fist grabbing onto the bat so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

"Where is... Where are they?" I asked, pushing past him and not caring if he swung his bat in my face.

I wasn't close to the man. For all I cared, he was just family. He came with the package.

"Camille," his wife on the other hand was kinder. I didn't really know her. She was introverted and made no effort to come to family gatherings more than it was necessary. "I think you should sit down."

"No," I wanted to scream at her but I didn't have the strength to do so. So the words just glided out of my mouth softly as I avoided her touch. "I just want to know where they are. Why aren't they here?"

"Because they are dead!" My uncle's words echoed through the house.

I looked at him, silent as death for the longest second. It was just hard to process what he was saying. It surely couldn't be the truth. It had only been three months.

"You're lying," I whispered back because if I didn't refuse what he was telling me, it felt like the universe would make it happen. "You're lying," I repeated for good measure. If I said it enough, perhaps it wouldn't be true. "I left here barely four months ago and you are telling me that they are—"

"My brother and his wife were killed like animals because of you. Now get out!"

"Sweetheart!" His wife retorted, horrified by her husband's bluntness.

But it didn't matter. Whatever hope I had was dead already and all I had in its place was a numbing emptiness. I replayed the moment I left the Gallagher house. I remembered how cold my 'father' had been.

Then I had thought it was to protect his true family. He and his wife. But had it really been for my sake? My knees buckled just thinking about it and I collapsed to the floor.

"Why were they killed?" I asked even if I didn't want to hear his response. Something told me he wasn't like his wife though. He detested my presence and rightfully so. He would tell me the truth even if it burned.

"After you were found, the Luna of the Lily of the Valley pack paid my brother a visit."