Camille's POV

Wincing as I pulled the scarf over my head and tied the knot securely beneath my chin, I deliberately averted my gaze from the mirror, unwilling to confront the brutal reality of my reflection after the fall— all thanks to father.

I exhaled sharply, dropping the small blue box onto the bed. I started with the sturdy dresser.

"Oh, Camille, my dear," Rosalind’s shrill, high-pitched voice broke from behind as she made her way into the room, arms outstretched for a comforting hug.

"Don't you dare touch me!" I snapped, my tone thick with anger. I continued packing, not bothering to turn and face her.

Rosalind Loeka stood there, visibly stunned.

As if gathering her courage, she quickened her pace. "Oh, goodness, you poor thing! I know you're hurt, but shouldn’t you know better than to question your father's decisions?”

"Enough!" I yelled, my voice sharp enough to send shivers down her spine.

"That's no way to speak to your mother, young lady!" Her rebuke sounded weak and feeble.

“Yeah, right,” I scoffed. "You know what? I have nothing more to say. You can leave now. I have some packing to finish."

Rosalind stubbornly sat on the bed, placing both hands on her skirt. "There are rules, and all you have to do is follow them. But you always choose to..."

"What rules, mother? Tell me!" I snapped, my eyes burning with hot tears that stung at the corners as I turned to face her.

“That’s your problem. You’re always moving too fast,” she replied.

"Am I? Where are these rules when it’s about the boys? Do they only exist when it’s about me?” I shook her shoulder firmly.

“Where was this rule when Devon failed the Council’s requirements for all young alphas? Yet father bought his way into the academy?”

“And even now, where is this rule to hold Conrad responsible for killing a member of the Darkstar pack two nights ago? But I have to be the one offered like a sheep to be slaughtered on his behalf!”

A crease appeared on my forehead. “Or for the pack member Conrad killed years ago when he shifted and couldn’t control his rage?”

“Where were the rules, mother?" I snarled, biting my lower lip to hold back the tears threatening to spill over.

"You... you don’t understand. You can’t expect the same things because…” she stuttered miserably.

" I’m a girl," I finished the sentence for her, tears streaming down my face. "That’s what you were going to say, right?"

She said nothing. Her silence betrayed her.

"And what if I expect the same things as they do? What’s wrong with that, mother!? Why is it so terrible for a daughter to expect the same things as the sons in a home? Tell me!"

I grabbed her arms before she could turn away, her face mirroring mine—soiled with tears, broken emotions.

“Camille, this is different,” she said, turning her back. “You can’t understand it.”

“Then make me understand! Make all of this make sense,” I pleaded, gripping her arms tightly, hoping, praying this could be her chance to set things right between us.

“Don’t you care, mother? Don’t you see how much I’m hurting?” I asked, staring into her gentle, light hazel eyes.

For as long as I could remember, I had never had a good relationship with Rosalind. We were always at odds, considering how she favored the boys over me.

“Oh, I do, my love,” she replied softly, reaching her hands toward my cheeks.

“Then fight for me. Let father know I need to go to the Academy.” I pulled her hands away from my face, clutching them tightly, hoping; hoping she could see it. She could see me.

“It’s not the same, and I don’t know how to make you understand it, Camille,” she said, pulling away as if she had suddenly seen a ghost.

The knot in my chest tightened painfully.

Dabbing tears from her face, she said, “Your marriage to Alpha Sigewuf is final. Your father has decided, and it’s in your best interest.”

And there it was—dead hopes. Another precious dream shattered. My hand slipped from hers, like dead leaves falling from a tree during autumn.

I had hoped she would fix this. Fix us. But that hope was never going to come true.

Without another word, I turned toward my box, tossing what I had left into it. I left the room.

I didn’t say another word to her. I left her in the silence of what would no longer be my room, to grapple with her dead conscience.

No words. No hugs. No goodbyes. No bonds. Just shattered hopes.

************

Two guards appeared immediately as I stepped through the grand doors of the mansion. One took the box from my hands, while the other led me to one of the sleek cars lined up in front of the estate.

Tires screeched as each vehicle sped away from the mansion, leaving behind what had once been my entire dream and now, my painful past.