But these were important.Life-changing. If she was very, very lucky, they might even be life-saving.
Grimacing, she forced herself back under the water. The ice was melting fast, and she had no desire to fetch another bucket from her freezer. The notifications could wait a few minutes longer. Freeing herself of her involuntary bond to a shifter that didn’t want her would always come first.
Three dips later, she finally allowed herself to unplug the drain and stand. The shivers didn’t hit her until, with a raw, scouring pain, the lukewarm water of the shower sprayed down her back. Like always, she took it with gritted teeth and pure, spiteful will.
Her mother wouldn’t have approved of her staying in the city. She would never have allowed her contact with Viktor in the first place. But she was dead. Two long years of suffering were finally at an end. Marian never even knew that her daughter had come into contact with her wayward consort at the Summit. She wasn’t lucid enough to understand it even if Camille bothered to tell her.
She felt foolish for her misstep, but how could Camille have known her cousin would personally invite the shifter to the Summit? It was supposed to be safe. No one but elves attended the yearly gathering. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine Theodore might break all the rules the moment he became Sovereign and actuallyinvitehim.
She tried to swallow down a familiar swell of bitterness at the thought of her cousin and his newfound happiness. A king in his own right, Theodore worked himself to the bone to be in a position where he could not be challenged — and where he could finally claim his consort.
Camille was happy for him, truly, and she might have liked Margot Goode well enough, if only their bliss didn’t put her in danger of losing her mind.
Now that elves were free to mingle with the general population, every step outside was a risk. No Solbourne function was safe. Viktor was Theodore’s childhood friend and newly minted political ally. If she agreed to show up for a family dinner, would she find him waiting at the table? If she stepped out for a trip downtown, would she stumble upon him at a table in her favorite cafe?
Gods help me, I need to get the fuck out of this town.
She couldn’t blame everything on Theodore, though. Yes, he’d made a mess of her life, but she made things so much worse by allowing Viktor to corner her, to touch her. Perhaps her symptoms would have already begun to fade if she hadn’t allowed him so much skin contact.
A moment of weakness cost her months of agony.
And yet… And yet she still did not regret it. Not completely. The fleeting moment of peace she’d taken with him lingered with her. When the grief of her mother’s death became too much, rolling as it did in dark, brackish waves, she sank into the bliss of the memory. It wasn’t healthy, not when she needed toforget,but she couldn’t be forced to stop, either.
Camille shook out her long limbs, stubbornly willing away the last of her shivers, before she scrubbed her skin and hair with whatever products her staff stocked the shower with. She didn’t care what they were or how much they cost, so long as they helped get Viktor’s pheromones out of her pores and washed the memory of his touch away.
That done, she rinsed with quick efficiency and exited the shower. She never feltbetter,per se, after her ritual, but a little more in control. The beast inside of her quieted, and the craving became a smoldering ember rather than an inferno.
Drying off with a plush white towel, she padded over to where her tablet lay on the counter. A quick touch brought it to life. Camille’s grip on the towel tightened as she read the notifications scrolling across the top of the clear screen.
A message from her brother, who had finally joined his own consort in Paris and looked to be living it up on a tour of France’s finest vineyards, lit up the screen. He attached a photo of them both looking blissfully happy as they sat in little wicker chairs beneath a green canopy, wine glasses in hand.
A tight ball of anxiety momentarily loosened.Good,she thought, ghosting her fingertips over the image of Cameron’s dear, usually somber face.You deserve your happiness.
Their mother was dead, after all. Though they both loved her, Camille didn’t begrudge Cameron for ignoring the official mourning period to run off with his consort. Her brother finally felt free tolive.She wanted that for him more than anything else in the world.
Reluctantly swiping his message away, the other notifications followed in a cascade: official documents about potentially selling her shares in their family vineyard to Cameron, client inquiries about shipments of wine, and, most importantly, responses from the families she and her mother had sent proposals to. Negotiations halted when her mother became too ill to function, but now, a month after her death, Camille decided it was time to pick things up again.
Apparently, the families agreed.
Wrapping her towel around her torso, she picked up the tablet and walked out of the bathroom. Marble floors gave way to soft carpet as she made her way to her bed. She perched on the edge and, ignoring the water droplets that slid down her neck, opened the first of several replies she’d received.
Miss Solbourne,
I am delighted to hear from you again. We would love to continue our discussion about a possible union between yourself and my son Cyrus. For your convenience, I have attached my schedule. Please let me know what day would be best for a meeting.
Regards,
Arabella Noor
Head of the Noor Family and Noor Foods Inc.
Camille’s throat constricted as she scanned the rest of the messages. All but one response to her query was positive. Despite the fact that elves were now free to pursue romantic relationships with Others, the prominent families she reached out to hadn’t changed their minds about negotiating a union with her.
Theodore threw open the door to the world, but people didn’t change overnight. Not everyone was willing to leave things up to fate, after all. Contracted unions were mostly safe and politically expedient. In her case, they were even life-saving.
She let out a shaky breath and set her tablet aside. Relief mingled with queasiness. It appeared that her bid to find a spouse was still viable. That was a good thing, even if every instinct said otherwise.
Her mother’s plan to get her safely ensconced in another powerful family’s embrace would be a success. It had to be. Camille wasn’t sure she could survive much more torture.
