Chapter 3: She Stole My Scent
1178 Words
Camilla's pov
How long has it been? Four? Five days? days of floating aimlessly, of screaming at the top of my lungs, of trying to get someone, anyone, to notice me. But nothing worked.
I was trapped in this limbo, invisible to the world, a ghost in my own life.
At first, I couldn't believe it. I thought it was just a dream—a horrible, twisted nightmare that I would eventually wake up from. But the days stretched on, and I remained stuck, hovering between the living and the dead. I didn't know who had poisoned me, why they had done it, or how to fix it. The uncertainty gnawed at me, but the helplessness was even worse.
Hilda came to my room every single day, crying, begging, pleading for me to wake up.
It was torture watching her like that. I wanted to reach out, to tell her I was still here, that I could see her. But I couldn’t touch her. She couldn't hear me. No one could.
And what hurt the most?
Malakai never came.
Not once.
I waited, hoping, praying that he would at least pretend to care. That he would sit by my bedside, that he would demand answers, that he would fight for me.
But he didn’t.
Instead, he moved on.
While I remained in this cursed state, he was planning his marriage to Hilda.
I overheard the servants whispering about it—how he had already made the announcement, how preparations were being made, how he seemed unaffected, as if I had never existed.
I felt sick.
I was beyond angry. Rage boiled in my veins, threatening to consume me. Was that all I had ever been to him? A temporary distraction? A burden he was eager to get rid of?
Had he ever even loved me at all?
I had no answers—only pain.
---
That night, the palace was strangely quiet. Unusually quiet.
I sat beside my body, staring at it for what felt like the thousandth time. The pale, lifeless shell of myself. It felt wrong—like I had been split in two, like a piece of me was missing.
With a deep breath, I stood up.
I had tried this over and over again, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying one more time.
I walked toward the bed, toward my own lifeless form, and willed myself to step back inside. I closed my eyes, pushed with all my might, imagining my soul sinking back into my flesh, my body waking up—
Nothing.
I clenched my fists, furious.
“Damn it!” I screamed. “What the hell is happening to me? Why can’t I go back? Who did this to me?!”
The silence was deafening.
I let out a bitter laugh. "Of course. No answers. Nothing new."
But then—footsteps.
I froze.
The sound was faint but distinct, echoing through the quiet halls of the palace. It wasn’t a guard’s usual, heavy stride. It was softer, quieter—like someone sneaking.
Curiosity sparked in me, piercing through my frustration.
I followed the sound, moving swiftly through the corridors.
It led me outside, past the palace gates, toward the dark, looming forest. My confusion deepened as I watched the cloaked figure ahead, slipping into the shadows like a thief in the night.
Something wasn’t right.
I moved closer, gliding soundlessly through the trees, and as the moonlight touched their face, my breath caught.
Hilda.
My mind reeled.
What the hell was she doing out here alone in the middle of the night?
She moved cautiously, glancing over her shoulder as if she expected to be followed. I frowned. Why was she acting so… secretive?
I kept following.
The deeper we went, the heavier the air became. Something about this place felt off.
Finally, she stopped in a clearing.
I hovered at the edge of the trees, watching as she pulled out a dagger and—sliced her palm open.
I gasped.
What the hell?
She muttered something under her breath—words I couldn’t quite make out.
Then, the ground trembled.
A thick, black smoke rose from the earth, swirling and twisting until it formed a figure.
An old woman.
Her presence sent an unnatural chill through the air, making my skin prickle with unease. Who was she?
Hilda bowed deeply. "It didn’t work like planned," she said urgently.
The old woman’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”
Hilda clenched her fists. “Yes, I successfully stole Camilla’s scent. I got Malakai to believe that I was his mate instead of her. But—”
I staggered back.
My breath caught in my throat, my mind spinning so fast I felt dizzy.
What did she just say?
I stared at her, my chest tightening with every word that spilled from her mouth.
She stole my scent? She made Malakai believe she was his mate?
No. No, that wasn’t possible. It couldn’t be.
But then, suddenly, everything made sense.
The way Malakai had changed overnight. The way he had started treating me like a mistake.
The whispers. The coldness.
The rejection.
He had never rejected me.
He was never even meant to be with Hilda.
I clutched my head, struggling to breathe.
All this time, I had been suffering, questioning my worth, wondering what I had done wrong—when it was all a lie.
A goddamn lie.
I felt sick.
The old woman’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade.
“What do you want, then?”
Hilda’s eyes darkened. “I can’t risk Camilla being alive. There’s always a chance she could ruin everything. I took matters into my own hands and tried to kill her myself. Then why is she still alive? You promised to help me this!” she demanded.
The old woman’s expression twisted in irritation. “Watch your tone, girl.”
Hilda gasped as she suddenly began choking, her body lifting off the ground as if an invisible hand had seized her throat.
“Do not forget who you are speaking to,” the old woman hissed.
Hilda’s face turned red, her hands clawing at her neck. “P—please,” she wheezed. “Help me!”
The old woman narrowed her eyes but finally released her, letting her drop to the ground. Hilda coughed violently, gasping for air.
“You are lucky I am still willing to help you,” the woman said coldly. “But we have another problem.”
Hilda looked up, still catching her breath. “What?”
The old woman turned—and her gaze locked directly onto me.
I froze.
My blood turned to ice.
She could see me.
She could see me.
It was impossible. No one had been able to see me before.
The old woman smirked, raising a hand. Then, with a singl
e breath, she blew air in my direction.
The world tilted.
A crushing dizziness took hold of me, my vision blurring, distorting.
No, no, no—
Everything faded to black.
- Writer
