Truly, the main stumbling block came the day she woke up to the sound of someone letting themselves into their den.
Viktor was sprawled on his back, one arm thrown over his eyes and the other limp next to her, his fingers half-curled like he had begun to reach for her in sleep but couldn’t quite make it. He didn’t stir when the front doorwhushedopen, but Camille did.
She was jolted out of her light doze by a deep sense of unease.Intruders,her instincts roared.Threats!
Her ears twitched at the sound of feet moving over the bamboo floor of their entry way. Adrenaline rushing and still waking up, Camille felt the sickly terror of the night on the beach return with a vengeance.
Had Andreas sent someone to kill Viktor in his sleep? Another packmate? Or was it some fool after the bounty?
The driving need to protect her consort was a loud drumbeat in her mind, drowning out everything else. Gliding silently out from between their sheets, Camille snatched up the robe hooked on the bedpost and shoved her arms through. Cinching it tightly around her waist, she prowled toward their bedroom door on bare feet.
She picked up hushed voices from somewhere in the living room as she silently eased the door open and slid through the gap.
Movement caught her eye. Without waiting for someone to pull out a bolt gun or shift, Camille darted down the short hallway and burst into the living room, a vicious snarl tearing its way out of her throat.
For a taut moment, the two toddlers and one very surprised teenager that were making themselves at home on her couch only stared at her. Then, as if the fear took a second to properly register, both little ones gasped and immediately broke out into huge, wracking sobs. They scrambled away from her to cling to the teenager, who had gone starkly pale.
“I’m sorry, Camille!” He croaked, hauling the wailing children into his thin arms as he quickly backed away. “I didn’t mean to intrude! Vik usually watches Fiona and Thomas while Aunt Cherry checks on the elders. I was just dropping them off. I— I didn’t think—”
Camille was mortified. She recognized the teenager as one of Mia’s children, as well as the two toddlers, who were both about three years old, dressed in smart outfits and tiny sandals, and bawling uncontrollably. Now that she had some sense knocked into her, she realized how ridiculous it was to assume that they were intruders.
They had tight security on their home, with biometric scanning as well as warding. Only packmates would have the ability to enter, and even if someonedidget past all that, they certainly wouldn’t do so at eight in the morning.
Holding up her hands, Camille tried to make herself look as non-threatening as possible. “No, no! I’m so sorry, Johnnie! I didn’t know it was you.” She took a quick step toward the children, but stopped when they took one look at her and cried harder. Camille paled. “Oh, babies, I’m— Oh no, please, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it.”
“Whoa, whoa. What is goin’ on?” Viktor’s sleep-roughened voice came from behind her. “Johnnie? Why are the cubs upset?”
Camille turned a panic look on her consort and gestured helplessly to the shaken teenager and wailing toddlers. “I thought— I didn’t know who they were and I… scared them.”
Gods, she felt like a monster, too.
She’d gone out of her way to make sure she didn’t appear threatening to the children she met, and then she went and undid all of that by scaring the daylights out of the trio in her living room.
“Ah, shit. I forgot that it was Cherry’s day with the elders. I should have warned you they’d be coming over.” Viktor was shirtless and tousled, but his eyes were keen when he strode across the room to swing both toddlers into his arms. “Shh. You’re okay. I know you were surprised, but Cam didn’t mean anything by it.”
“No, I didn’t. I—”
The toddlers, who had begun to calm down some, wailed again. Johnnie looked abashed and Viktor wore a pinched, resigned expression as he attempted to soothe the children clinging to his bare shoulders.
Camille shrank back into the hallway. Speaking low and fast, she said, “I’ll just— I’ll just go into the bedroom. Sorry.”
Viktor made a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Cam, it’s okay, just—”
She didn’t listen. Camille hurried back down the hall and dashed into the bedroom. Standing in the center of the room, she clenched her hands into fists and fought the wobbling of her chin.
I scared them so much they can’t even look at me,she thought, agonized by guilt. She wanted to fit inso badly.It cut her to the quick to know she blundered so terribly. What would the pack think of her now? Would Johnnie run off to tell his mother that she bared her fangs at the children? Would they accuse her of threatening their young?
Feeling sick, Camille looked for something to do to calm herself down. There was no way she was stepping outside of the bedroom until after the children left. She’d rather sequester herself all day than have them look at her like she planned to eat them one more time.
She decided on a shower. There was little else to do, and it only made her feel worse to stand there and hear the muted sounds of Viktor attempting to soothe the children across the house.
Grabbing her clothing, she fled into the bathroom and locked the door. Maybe after she got ready, she could sneak out the bedroom window? It wasn’t dignified, but leaving the house while Viktor took care of the children sounded like a better plan than waiting around. Eventually he would try to coax her out. Best that she removed herself from the situation entirely.
Camille showered and dressed quickly. When she ducked her head out of the bathroom, she was relieved to hear that the muffled crying had stopped. It sounded like they were on the other side of the house — probably the kitchen.
Good,she thought, insides twisting with guilt. Viktor was probably making them breakfast. She would have loved to be a part of that, but she knew that her presence would only upset them more.Best that I retreat for now.
Maybe it was running away, but she couldn’t feel too bad about it. There was a unique kind of hurt that came with the knowledge that a child thought you meant them harm. It grated against something foundational in her to think that she’d terrified them so badly.
