“You’re right, Fi, only pretty elves are purple.” Viktor gave Camille a gentle shove toward the table. “Are you okay with Cam helping us make breakfast?”
Fiona and Thomas shared a wide-eyed look. “No growling?”
Camille hovered by the table, afraid to come closer. “No growling,” she promised, hands open. “I’m sorry I growled earlier. I didn’t know it was you, or I wouldn’t have. You just… scared me.”
Fiona took a thoughtful bite of her crushed apple slice, while Thomas slunk under the chair he had attempted to climb. He peered out from under the seat and let out a low, inquisitive whine.
“S’okay,” Fiona finally replied. “Everybody growlssomedays.”
Viktor beamed. “That’s right. Even I growl sometimes, don’t I?”
Both children gave their alpha identical looks of baffled amusement before Fiona argued, “Nuh. Alpha doesn’tever.”
Bending down, Viktor scooped up Fiona and held her up to his face. Growling playfully, he pretended to nip at her snubbed nose several times until she burst into a fit of giggles and dropped her mauled apple slices onto the floor.
The tight ball of anxiety unwound in Camille’s chest. Everything was fine. The children were fine. It was allfine.
Feeling almost too relieved to stand, she sank into the nearest chair — which happened to be the one Thomas hid under.
Soft fur brushed her bare foot. Camille jumped.
Bending at the waist, she peered under her seat to find Thomas crouched, his backside in the air and his tail wagging. Smiling tentatively, she asked, “Little one, what are you—”
The attack came with sharp baby teeth, a sloppy tongue, and dull claws. Camille yelped, more surprised than anything, as Thomas wrestled with her bare foot. His tail thumped wildly when she attempted to lift it away, only for him to go after the ankle of her pants with a wild, playful growl.
“Seemsrealworried you’re gonna eat him, doesn’t he?” Viktor teased.
Camille glanced up to find him by the cabinets, Fiona on his hip and a purple mixing bowl in one hand. She flushed dark purple. “Shush!”
Leveling a stern look at the cub currently attempting to maul her toes, he said, “Don’t you go hurting my mate, Thomas. She might just climb out a window and never come back.”
Outraged, Camille stooped down, swiped an apple slice from one of the bowls on the floor, and sent it sailing across the kitchen to smack him in the head. Fiona squealed with laughter, while Thomas released her foot long enough to dance in a circle, yipping like it was the best thing he’d ever seen.
“Hey! No throwing food! That’s a bad example for the cu—” She got him again, this time on his nose. He went momentarily cross-eyed. “Guh! Stop that!”
The cubs dissolved into hysterics as Viktor sputtered with mock offense, and Camille felt fear loosen its grip on her heart just a little.
Everything is okay. For now.
ChapterThirty-Four
Camille gotsix days with the pack before the fragile peace was shattered.
She knew it was coming. Sickly fear had churned in her gut all morning — her unnaturally keen intuition warning her that their time was up.
She was on her phone with her brother when the message came through. Cameron was desperate to hear the whole, sordid story and rightfully horrified when she got to the part about the shooter, but as soon as Viktor looked up from his phone with that hard expression, she knew it was time.
“I’m sorry, I have to go.” Her brother protested, but she didn’t hear him. Camille hit theend callbutton and lowered her phone to stare at her consort.
He stood in the doorway of their bedroom, his brows drawn down over his cornflower blue eyes and his shoulders stiff.
Her throat was dry when she croaked, “When?”
“Tomorrow.”
Camille closed her eyes and forced herself to breathe, to remember that her consort was strong, in his prime, and had too much to live for to die under the claws ofRuben Andreas.
But didn’t her father have all those things, too? Having everything to live for, being strong and determined to fight for what was right, didn’t savehim.
