Her freedom
1249 Words
Chapter 6: Her freedom
Malakai's POV
I returned to the room with a tray of cornflakes and everything needed to eat it, only to find Camilla already curled up on the bed, fast asleep. Again.
I hadn’t even wasted time downstairs.
She was clearly too exhausted. It made an ache stir right in my chest.
I hovered by the bed, torn between waking her and letting her continue. In the end, I settled for the latter.
Placing the tray down on a side table, I made a mental note to stock my suite with groceries so she could easily access them next time. Then I climbed back into bed, keeping to the very edge again, careful not to startle her.
I watched her face. It was cute, but still looked distressed. Reaching for her left hand, I gently examined the wrist with the bracelet I'd noticed earlier.
A frown pulled on my face. It wasn’t just any bracelet—it was a suppressant. Used to control violent wolves, the kind who were dangerous. Like rogues. To weaken them and stop their shifts. In fact, it takes away most of their abilities.
Why the hell was Camilla wearing one?
She didn’t strike me as dangerous.
Was this part of Arthur's handiwork? I’d find out by morning, when she woke.
She stirred, and I carefully dropped the hand beside her. But I couldn't stop thinking about everything she must've been through.
She didn’t relax even after that. Her movements grew more restless until she started thrashing and whimpering in her sleep.
Panic shot straight to my chest.
"Camilla." I tried to hold her still.
"Pleas... Ah...!"
"It's a dream. You have to wake up." I gathered her into my arms, shaking her gently, tapping lightly on her cheeks.
She was starting to sweat. Oh f**k.
"Camilla, wake up. You're safe now."
Her eyes flew open. She screamed when she saw my face, kicking and fighting to break free.
Her scream pierced straight through me. Not because of the sound, but because I knew that fear wasn’t for me. It was for someone who used to hurt her. Someone who wasn’t here anymore, yet still had power over her.
"Hey, you're safe. You're safe," I kept whispering, holding her firmly.
Eventually, she relaxed. Her breathing began to steady.
I slowly raised my hand to her long, curly hair, but the moment I touched it, she jerked up. Like she suddenly realized she was on my lap, she scurried away and sat upright on the bed.
I looked at my hand and sighed. She was too scared of contact, and I was really curious to know why. But I wasn’t going to bombard her with questions now.
"You were shaking a lot. I had to hold you to calm you down. Was it a nightmare?"
Camilla nodded. "Yeah. I'm really sorry I disturbed your sleep again," she murmured.
"I wasn't sleeping."
She turned to me, curiosity flickering softly in her tired hazel eyes.
"Were you doing something?"
"When I got back with your cornflakes, I found you..."
"Oh shit." She buried her face in her palm for a moment before looking back at me. "I'm so sorry."
"It's okay. If you still want, it's right here." I pointed where I kept the tray.
She nodded, and I brought the whole thing to the bed, making some for her.
"Want to tell me what you were dreaming about?" I asked once she began eating.
She tensed, pausing. Then, after a few seconds, she continued.
"You don't have to if..."
"Arthur," she interrupted, voice barely above a whisper. "He caught me… and punished me."
Her hand trembled slightly as she scooped a spoonful of milk into her mouth.
My jaw clenched. This was the second time she mentioned punishment.
"I would never let that happen. You're never going back there... to him."
She paused, meeting my gaze briefly, as if trying to confirm I wasn’t joking. I meant every word.
"You bought me... from him," she stated. Her voice was so shaky, it caused a pang in my chest. "What do you plan to do with me?"
I stared at her, admiring the natural rose tint on a part of her face. It made her look like she was blushing, even though she clearly wasn’t.
"I can't afford you," I said simply.
She looked up at me, confused.
"I bought your freedom, Camilla. Not you," I clarified. "Never think anyone can afford to buy you. You're a person. Not a thing to be bought or sold."
She blinked slowly.
"Then why did you buy me... my freedom?"
"I told you that already. Aside from being my mate, I want you to live. Not like a prisoner. Not like someone scraping through existence. I want you to really live... for you."
Her eyes brimmed with tears.
"Why?" she asked, voice cracking with emotion.
"Because everyone deserves that at least, Camilla," I said gently. "And you, my mate... you need every bit of it."
A sob broke from her throat. She stopped eating and buried her face between her knees.
I frowned, wondering if I’d just made things worse.
I didn’t know what to do. She clearly didn’t like to be touched, but sitting there while she cried made me feel completely useless.
I ran a hand through my hair.
"Camilla." I reached toward her slowly. "Can I at least hold you? I don’t know what else to do."
She sniffled but didn’t accept or refuse.
I took that as a cue to proceed.
Gently, I placed my hand on the small of her back. She tensed at first, then slowly began to relax.
I let out a quiet breath and shifted closer, trying with my other hand. When she didn’t push me away, I stayed like that.
It was a very awkward hug—if it could even be called a hug—but it was better than nothing. It was progress.
We stayed like that for a while, with me just listening to the sound of her heartbeat. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but if it soothed her pain even a little, then I had no reason not to love it.
"If this is a dream..." she whispered at last, her voice drowsy. I wondered if she was falling asleep again. "I don’t want to wake up."
Her breathing gradually became steady. She had indeed fallen asleep.
She was still in my arms, her head tucked between her knees.
I carefully lowered her onto the bed, adjusting her into a more comfortable position. I wiped her tear-streaked face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.
"Goodnight again, Camilla," I whispered.
Or rather, good morning—because when I checked my phone, it was almost 5:30 a.m.
I hadn’t really slept. It had felt better to watch her sleep almost all night. Maybe I’d get some rest during the day... if Arthur didn’t bring war to my doorstep first.
A slow smirk tilted my lips when I thought of how confused he’d feel once his head cleared.
I didn’t compel him to forget. I wanted him to remember everything. How he bargained the price for her freedom, how he led me to the house to get her… everything. I wanted him to feel like a fool when he tried to explain it, because no one would believe he didn’t willingly sell her to me.
Everything was on paper. Signed.
And fortunately, papers don’t lie.
- Writer
