The Lycan King's Affection

SEVEN

DIMITRI'S POV

"Do well to remember that vile as she is, my daughter is the granddaughter of Abigail De'crescent..." Yes. That was what I had heard the Alpha of the Lily of the Valley pack say before his sentinels opened the doors to the council room.

The girl I had been looking for since my father's passing existed. Exposing myself to the werewolves and causing them to question why an enemy was doing a peace visit was worth it after all.

I had been buried in my thoughts and in the wine in my goblets as I thought about my next move. I had instructed Neal to keep watch on the girl as I figured out a surefire way to manipulate the Alpha to hand me his most 'prized asset'. The same asset that was in the dungeons for my sake.

The chicken on my plate proved it. I called a servant over to refill my cup. Their wine was the only thing I could stomach. As a true Lycan, I could only stomach a predominantly meat dish. However, because of my condition, pheasants were the only thing I could keep in my stomach.

It would be a show of weakness to consume the chicken on my plate and throw it all up in a matter of minutes. It would shatter the reputation my grandfather had created for our kind.

"Is the food not to your liking, King Dimitri?" The Alpha asked me.

I took a look at the food. It looked good. It looked like someone put an effort into making it. But with me, that didn't matter. I returned my gaze to the man and smiled, tipping my cup in his direction. "I like the wine better."

"Oh, okay."

What followed was silence. But I knew the werewolf had questions. Lots of it. I wasn't going to be breaking the ice so I was going to push him too.

"You can ask your question." I finally broke the silence, downing the red stinging liquid down my throat.

"I hope you do not take this as rude. But it comes as a surprise to many of us that you are here. We don't know why and it–"

"Have you asked the other packs?" I cut in.

I watched the Alpha and his Beta exchange looks. The Menards and the Dumonts were no fools. Of course, they did. I was however curious about the results they got.

"We did actually," The pack's Beta spoke. He was a rugged man. Tall as an oak and perhaps just as wise. "But they gave us no response. Which makes your presence even more, permit me to use this for the lack of a better word, unsettling."

"I came to offer peace," I replied. "I ascended my late father's throne two years ago and I have made it my responsibility to access how those before me ruled. The one thing I did not like was the fact that they made enemies with the werewolf species. I want to change that. That is why I am here. To call a truce. No war among our species for the next hundred years."

They shared a look with each other again. I downed more of the wine and assessed the situation. The dominoes were cascading in line. I just wanted them to dig their own grave.

"No war sounds good," Alpha Lucian spoke, even though his Beta was clearly against it. "But why?"

Like I thought, the Beta was smart. But being smart wasn't enough for a deal as captivating as mine. Of course, they would dig their own grave.

"Why?" I repeated like it was the most ridiculous word I had heard in a while. "Do you not want peace?"

"We do want peace. But I know Lycans. They aren't pacifist. Neither are they kind. There is something you want. An exchange. So for both of our sakes, I suggest you just spill it." Lucian's Beta retorted.

I liked him. He wasn't the type to beat around the bush even if he didn't quite know his place in this world. There was no need for blood since I came to preach peace. So to calm my aggravated nerves, I downed the last droplets of wine in my cup before slamming it down. "You're right, Mr. Menard, Lycans do not offer free favors."

"So what do you want?" Alpha Lucien asked.

As if fate had willed it, the door of the dining room creaked open and in walked Camille Dumont, the girl I was looking for and my subordinate, Neal.

The sights of everyone on the dinner table turned to the opened door and I proceeded to point my finger towards the girl covered in crimson.

Her." I declared. "I want her."

The room fell into a tense silence as all eyes shifted towards Camille Dumont. The young woman stood there, her face pale and streaked with blood, her body trembling from the events that probably just transpired.

Neal stood by her side. With a smile on his face. I knew my subordinate and Beta. Only killing and winning brought that manic side out of him. The drying blood on his hand proved my point.

Alpha Lucien's piercing gaze turned back in my direction and never left me. It was clear that my request had come as a shock, and perhaps even a betrayal. But I wasn't going to back down.

"What do you think? Isn't that the perfect exchange?"

"No, anything but that."

"Why?" I demanded. "Isn't she a traitor that deserves to be punished? Rather than waste the life of a runt like her, give her to me, let me put her to good use "

"She is my daughter!" Lucian shrieked at me and the entire room fell silent again.

***

CAMILLE'S POV

When the doors to the dining room had opened and my tired legs had shuffled forward, I didn't know what to expect.

I especially did not expect my second chance mate to point his finger in my direction and tell the whole world that he wanted me.

But it was my father's response to his demand that shocked me the most. His outburst was the first fatherly thing the man had ever done to me since I arrived in the Lily of the Valley pack. But it hurt more because I knew the outburst did not come from a righteous place but because of my bloodline.

"Is that what it is about?" I was the one to break the silence. "Is it because I am your daughter or because I am the granddaughter of some obscure healer?"

"I suggest you shut up–" he tried to say but I cut him off immediately.

"I will not shut up and you will hear me out."

I stood my ground, my voice steady despite the tremble in my heart. I refused to be silenced any longer, even if it meant challenging my father.

"You've never cared about me as your daughter, only as a means to uphold your legacy," I continued, my words laced with insidious rage. "You've never asked about my hopes, my dreams, or even bothered getting to know who I am beyond my mother's bloodline."

My father's face contorted in a mix of disbelief and frustration. His jaw clenched, but I refused to back down. I had been a pawn in his game for far too long, and I was tired of it.

"You've always been so focused on the power and status that my lineage represents," I pressed on, my voice quivering with pent-up emotion. "But what about me? What about my happiness? Am I just a tool for you to use at your convenience?"

Silence hung heavily in the air as my words sank in. The tension between us was palpable, the weight of our strained relationship reaching its breaking point. The room seemed to hold its breath as my father finally found his words.

"You have no idea what your lineage means, Camille," he responded, his tone filled with a mix of frustration and regret. "I've spent my entire life building and protecting our legacy. Everything I've done has been for the sake of our pack, for our people."

I took a step closer to him, my eyes locked with his. "It has never been ours. Just yours." I challenged. "What happens when the trial happens and I fail? What happens after? Do you finally toss me aside like the useless child that I am? After all the sacrifices I've made, the battles I've fought within myself to conform to your expectations?"

His gaze faltered for a moment, but I did not sense a flicker of remorse in his eyes. It was like fighting a lost cause.

"What battles have you fought? What sacrifices have you made?"

Tears welled up in my eyes as months of frustration and pain washed over me. I had hoped for validation, for understanding, but it would never erase the scars that had formed over time.

"You uprooted me from my life. Took everyone and everything I knew and gave me nothing in return. As for sacrifices," I turned to my stepmother, Adele. I clearly remembered what the assassin had said. How Adele was the one who sent him. It was probably a reach but I figured she was the one who made me disappear I'm the first place. "I am still making sacrifices."

"Camille, I suggest you keep your mouth shut or else–" my father tried again to silence me.

But I was done. I took Neal's hand and looked at my father.

"I am my own person, Alpha Lucian Dumont," I finally summoned the courage to mutter. "I am going with King Dimitri and that is it."

"Your daughter wants to leave this place," King Dimitri continued. "Is not a free woman? Is she your slave?"

My father never got to reply. In fact, nothing else mattered at that moment because a deafening boom reverberated through the air.

I felt the ground shake beneath me, sending tremors of panic up my spine. Instinctively, my eyes widened and my heart raced, knowing that could only be an explosion and we were right in the middle of it.

In the blink of an eye, the world around me morphed into a swirling vortex of flames and flying debris.

The once-grand dining hall lay in ruins, with shattered remnants of furniture and shattered glass strewn across the floor.

A second explosion hurled me backwards, flinging me through the air like a ragdoll.

Panic gripped me as I braced for impact, my body crashing against unforgiving concrete.

The pain shot through me, searing every nerve with its unrelenting intensity.

I could see a bone that should be on my body sticking out of my chest. There was blood everywhere too. Not just mine. But Neal too.

He was unconscious and bleeding out.

I ignored my own wounds and crawled towards him.

He was unconscious and judging from the bleeding gash on his forehead, he was not going to make it.

"No," I managed to whimper. "You promised to get me out of here. I will not be able to help you if you don't help me."

Fear and desperation surged through my veins and with trembling hands, I began to hit him, hoping it would help.

It didn't help and all I could do was cry as nu own body began to fail me. I was bleeding out too.

All the strength was drained out of me and I laid down next to Neal as the third explosion followed.

Death was coming.

As the chaos of the third explosion consumed the surroundings, a sense of finality washed over me. The deafening roar of destruction seemed to grow louder with each passing second, drowning out any remaining shred of hope. I closed my eyes, preparing for the inevitable.

"Not yet, Camille." a quiet voice promised.

When I opened my eyes, the world before me exploded into a brilliant blue light.

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.