Chapter 4: Buried Alive
1257 Words
Camilla's pov
I gasped loudly, my eyes flying open in shock.
I was back.
Back in the room where my body was still lying.
My heart raced, and I breathed fast, feeling panicked as memories flooded back to me like a fierce storm. The ritual. The old woman. Hilda’s confession.
She had taken my scent. She had tricked Malakai. She had tried to kill me.
I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing for my thoughts to slow down, but the truth tore at me like a wild animal. Malakai was my mate. All along, he was the one meant for me, but she had stolen that right from me. She had taken everything.
I took a shaky breath to calm myself.
I needed proof.
I had to see it for myself.
Without thinking twice, I rushed out of the room, and I moved faster than I had anticipated. I barely felt my feet touch the ground, but I didn’t stop to wonder why.
I made it to the room that Hilda and I used to share, the place where we grew up together. It had all been a lie.
I approached her wardrobe, determined to find anything that could back up what I had just learned. But as soon as I tried to open the doors, my hands passed right through.
A cry of frustration escaped me.
I tried again, but my fingers touched nothing but empty air. Damn it!
In a surge of anger, I swung my hand wildly, and to my surprise, everything shifted in response.
The wardrobe doors swung open, and clothes tumbled down onto the floor.
I froze in shock.
What… was that?
As I tested my ability once more, I swung my arm in the opposite direction, and suddenly, I heard a loud cracking noise. The vanity mirror shattered, making a sharp *snap that echoed throughout the room.
My eyes went wide in shock at what had just happened.
I realized I could touch things, but not in the usual way. It was strange, yet there was a sense of power in it.
A slow and dangerous smile began to spread across my lips. This is good, I thought to myself.
With renewed determination, I turned back to the wardrobe and began searching through her belongings. I was desperate, tossing clothes aside in a whirlwind, looking for anything that might help me.
Then, under a stack of neatly folded garments, my eyes landed on something interesting—a leather-bound book tucked away in the corner.
I gasped, my breath catching in my throat.
It looked like it might be a journal.
With trembling fingers, I carefully opened it, without really knowing what I would find inside. As I scanned the pages, every word felt like a sharp knife stabbing into my heart.
What I read hit me hard. She hated me.
For a long time, she had held resentment toward me. I remembered all the times Malakai's gaze lingered on me, and how I was always just a step ahead of her. She had been jealous of me long before she even knew he was my mate.
And when she discovered the truth about us?
She had gone to find a witch.
This witch had helped her perform a forbidden ritual—one that had managed to steal my scent and give it to her. That explained why Malakai had believed that she was his mate all along.
I clutched the book tightly in my hands, and my vision started to blur with tears.
She had done this to me. She had ruined my life.
I could no longer keep reading; it was too painful.
In a fit of rage, I threw the journal across the room, watching it crash into the wall. The anger inside me was boiling over, and I knew I needed to take action. Now.
I turned to storm out, but as soon as I stepped into the hallway, I suddenly stopped in my tracks.
A group of guards was passing by, and I noticed Hilda behind them, crying.
My eyes drifted to her arms-
She was holding my body.
A cold wave of horror hit me like a punch in the gut.
What in the world was she doing?!
I ran toward them, yelling, “Where are you taking me?!”
But they didn’t even turn to look at me.
They couldn’t hear my voice.
Panic gripped my chest tightly as I hurried after them down the long hallway.
Then, I spotted him.
Malakai.
He stood at the entrance of the palace, arms crossed, looking at me with a face I couldn’t read.
As the guards drew closer, he raised an eyebrow and asked, “Where are you taking her?”
Hilda, acting all dramatic, sniffled and replied, “She’s dead.” Her voice was heavy with fake grief. “We’re taking her to be buried.”
I stood still, waiting.
I waited for him to break.
For him to shout at them to stop, to demand that I not be taken away.
But instead, he simply scoffed.
My stomach twisted in disbelief.
“She doesn’t deserve to be buried in the pack cemetery,” he said coldly. “Take her to the forest. Bury her there.”
No.
I stumbled back, a sharp pain flaring through me.
I looked at his face, searching for any hint of doubt, for any sign he might care.
But there was nothing.
He had really let me go.
Hilda nodded slightly, and as the guards turned to leave, I caught it.
A smile.
It was faint, almost too small to see, but it was there.
A slow, satisfied smirk appeared on her lips before she quickly wiped it away, returning to her act of mourning.
The betrayal was complete.
The guards carried my body deep into the forest.
I followed, my heart racing wildly, screaming at them, begging them to stop.
But they didn’t listen.
They reached a clearing and began digging a hole.
No, no, no…
They lowered my body into the ground, and the sight was so horrifying, so wrong, that I felt sick.
I ran to the edge of the hole, my screams growing louder and more desperate.
They couldn’t hear me.
They started shoveling dirt over me.
The first pile landed on my chest. A cold, suffocating terror gripped me.
They were burying me alive.
I felt the earth shift beneath me, and suddenly I was on my knees, clawing at the ground in a desperate plea for mercy.
Each scream tore from my throat, raw and desperate, echoing into the void.
But they didn’t hear me.
Dirt began to envelop me, rising like a tide, obscuring my arms, my legs, my face—a heavy blanket of earth that stole my breath away.
The weight of it was unbearable, pressing down as if the very world was determined to crush me.
Darkness began to creep in, like a shadow swallowing the light. My vision blurred, and I could feel the panic rising within me.
Was this really how it would end?
Tears streamed down my cheeks, carrying with them a silent prayer.
"Moon Goddess, if you’re out there… hear me. Please… I don’t want to fade away like this. I want to be remembered. Just one more chance is all I ask."
The world ar
ound me spun in disarray, a whirlwind of emotion and fear.
The darkness tugged at me, pulling me under, wrapping me in its cold embrace.
And then—silence. Everything stilled.
- Writer
