The Lycan King's Affection

EIGHT

CAMILLE'S POV

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."

Adele? She didn't seem to give a rat's ass about my existence and now she was paying people I knew a visit. Flashes of what the assassin said to me before played in the back of my mind. Had my gut feeling been right?

"They killed him for hiding your existence. But I know the truth. I know he was killed to cover up the past. But I am done talking about this with you. Unlike my brother, I cherish my blood. My true blood." He held the bat again in a position that signalled that he was going to attack me. "Now get out!"

I didn't fight him. I couldn't. It was my fault he was this way and if my presence here was going to bring harm to them then was it not better if I left them?

So I listened. I walked out of the house with this cruel weight of guilt and sorrow.

My steps were heavy and slow. The earth was cold to the touch too but it did not matter. This was the suffering that I deserved.

I was lost in my thoughts as I aimlessly wandered the streets, unsure of where to go or what to do next.

It felt as though my entire world was crumbling around me. I had no home. I had nobody.

I wondered why I was alive. I wondered what had stopped me from visiting them sooner. Because if I had been there at the right time, I... The words formed a lump in my throat. I couldn't even think of it. But my heart knew. I might have been able to save them.

I was going to continue wandering till my body or mind, whichever one died first, gave out but then I heard someone call my name.

"Camille!" The voice called again with a raspy breath.

Startled, I turned to see my aunt frantically running towards me. Her worried face pleaded with me to stop, to listen.

So I stopped walking and waited for her.

Soon, she caught up to me, gasping for breath.

"What is it?" I asked.

I watched her reach into her pocket and pull out a folded piece of paper. She handed it to me with comforting hands, taking a moment to gauge my expression before speaking.

"I found this while cleaning the house," my aunt explained. "It was addressed to you so I kept it. I figured you would come... eventually. If you can bear it, read it."

I looked at the paper and turned it to the other side. She was right. It was addressed to me. The handwriting was my father's.

I looked back at her and tried to force a smile. "Thank you," I croaked.

She nodded and went on her way.

It was either I continued walking to certain doom or I opened the note to read and though the former seemed to comfort me the most, I found myself unfolding the paper.

I was hesitant but my curiosity was stronger as I smoothened the paper to read under the moonlight.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw my own name at the top of the page. It was a letter, addressed to me.

"Dear Cammie," I read.

I write this letter to you in the hopes that one day you will read it and understand the truth.

If this letter found you, it must mean that I am already dead. I do not want you to blame yourself. The fate that befell me has been long overdue for what I put you through.

There is something I should tell you, Camille. Something about how you made it to the Gallagher house.

You were not adopted like I had made you believe. I was there at your birth. While I still swore my oath as pack sentinel to the Lily of the Valley pack.

When your mother, Luna Bo died from childbirth, I was present. I worked under Luna Adele at the time and I was ordered to replace you with another child at the maternity centre and then kill you. Which I proceeded to obey. But I couldn't bring myself to kill you, Camille. So I kept you.

In the months to come, I came to realize why Adele wanted to be rid of you. You possess a power that is both beautiful and dangerous, a power that your maternal bloodline has held for generations. So I quit my job as Sentinel and renounced my allegiance to protect you.

It might have worked for years but I didn't put into consideration the risk that seers posed.

So I failed you.

I know you feel responsible for what has happened, but you must find it in your heart to forgive yourself. Only then can you move forward.

Know what you were loved, Camille Gallagher. Even as I and your mother breathed our last.

I hope you have a beautiful life, Cammie. You've been deprived of it for long enough.

With love,

Dad."

Tears welled up in my eyes as I read the last letter written on the page. Not just because it hurt but because those were words that I needed to hear.

I was loved and I deserved a beautiful life.

So I had to keep living.