Camille
Camille stood quietly behind the pack hall, hands clasped before her, pretending to simply watch Vikron speak, but inside, her mind churned. He’d thrown her old phone away so casually, so decisively, as though he had every right to sever her from the rest of the world.
And the terrifying part?
A small, traitorous corner of her chest… felt relieved.
Safe.
Stop it. Don’t start depending on anyone again.
Yet watching him command his pack—seeing the way hundreds bowed their heads without hesitation, she couldn’t deny the truth: Vikron’s authority wasn’t loud. It was carved into the air. Solid. Grounded. Unshakeable.
Everything Sigewuf had pretended to be.
A tap hit her shoulder, hard enough to send a flare of annoyance up her spine.
She turned.
Skyla.
Camille straightened in
