Camille's POV:
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I had only been mere hours away from Aston-Lakenheath, the safe haven i once knew, yet it felt like countless months.
No, this wasn't a feeling of yearning for my father's presence. I didn't miss him. I simply missed the profound serenity of my life before that fateful night Father had made his startling announcement and Sigewuf's unexpected arrival.
Heaving a deep sigh, I surveyed the space in the room. It was the same size as my old room, but it felt vast, empty.
I desperately needed to shake this unsettling feeling. There was no use dwelling on the past when it most likely would no longer be my reality.
Looking at the empty table beside the bed, the plates had been efficiently cleared away. I had no idea how truly starved I had been until all three plates were completely wiped clean.
The door of the room was propped open, revealing Doctor Skyla. She had brought me to this room and sent some fresh change of clothes, explaining she had pressing matters at the lab and would return later.
She had changed into something considerably more relaxing: blue satin trousers with loose ends.
Gazing at the clock hanging above the bed, it was well past 6.
Dropping onto the bed beside me, "I got you something," her voice was low and gentle.
I wrapped my legs around each other, my hands nestled protectively in front of my chest, determined not to let the burgeoning glee in my chest show on my face.
"Here. I think this belongs to you," she said, my familiar brown leather diary held carefully in her hand.
A small gasp escaped my mouth before I could even stop it, clutching the diary with both hands. How had I lost it without any recollection?
I wanted to express my gratitude, but the words simply couldn't make their way out of my mouth.
"We found it the night you encountered the rogue, after you were sedated. I guessed it was yours and picked it up."
It probably must have fallen off when I was desperately struggling to find the dagger.
"I have one too," she added, before pulling out a striking red diary with a distinct crest on it.
"It's where I write down my visions," she said, her smile broadening with genuine warmth.
Speaking of visions,I pulled away from my sitting position, adjusting myself so that I could face her directly. "Your visions..." I cleared my throat, a slight tremor in my voice. "Have you always experienced these visions?"
She smiled as if it were the easiest thing imaginable. For her, perhaps it was.
She shrugged, "It started when I was 9, but had stopped just before I shifted at 16, but it came back when I arrived here."
"Wow" I managed to say,
"So how many visions of me have you had then?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
She looked at me, her eyes remarkably soft. "Just two."
"The first was two weeks ago, after the pack training. The second, the morning of the very day we found you."
I looked her straight in the eye, fully prepared to ask the question I'd been desperately wanting to ask since I first saw her.
"Then you know I can't shift, right?"
She nodded slowly, as if it would douse the weight I had to carry
"I come from a bloodline of strong warriors. I'm the first to be a deviant" I said, looking up "Everyone thinks it's a curse. That I'm cursed" a sad smile on my lips
"Nobody deserves to hear that, its awful" She said,
"No one deserves to be wolfless" I said, facing her
"I don't deserve it."
"You're not wolfless, Camille" she tried to sound reassuring
"Then tell me, why can't I shift?" I moved farther away from her
"If you've seen something, then you probably might know why I can't shift."
"You're special," she said, gently taking my hands in hers.
"You said that before," I said, pulling away from her, my face expressionless.
"If you're a hybrid and you can shift, why can't I?" I asked, the thought causing me considerable chagrin.
Hybrids held a higher rank and possessed greater power compared to werewolves. In fact, some hybrids shifted at sixteen. I had seen this information in the morphology text on wolves in my father's study.
"I don't have all the answers you need, Camille, but I can feel it strongly, the same way you do, that you're different from all of us," she said imploringly, her voice full of conviction.
"Look at me," she said, her hand reaching for my face. I couldn't manage to pull my mask on, to conceal the palpable fear I felt, so I bit my lower lip so hard I tasted blood, allowing her to hold my gaze.
"I'm ready to stay with you and help you however I possibly can."
I nodded, completely unable to articulate anything.
I urgently needed to discover what I was and who I was. But how? This was going to involve a multitude of journeys. If I were to head to Aston-Lakenheath to find answers, that would be deliberately placing myself in significant harm's way.
"I need some time to clear my head," I said, standing up to leave the room.
"I think that's a great idea. I'll have Samm..."
"No. No... I just want to be completely alone. You don't have to send anyone to follow me, and I'll be absolutely sure to remain within the pack boundaries," my voice cracking just a little.
She eyed me thoughtfully, and smoothed her hair. "Okay," she said before leaving.
Walking through the pathway leading to the east wing, a sharp pain struck, like a pin being driven through my skull, forcing my eyes to involuntarily close shut. I pulled my hand to my head, rubbing at my temple. "Are you okay?" I could distinctly hear someone saying before I heard Skyla, but her voice sounded strangely like an echo, as if she were a million miles away. I wanted to look up, but the pain intensified dramatically, forcing my eyes open with such an inexplicable force and i could feel my eyes were bloodshot red; every face was blurring out of focus. I couldn't hear Skyla anymore, but I could see some figures running by, and then someone—I couldn't even make out her face—was on the floor.
I made a move to go to her, but my legs seemed as though they were glued firmly to the spot.
"Hello, can you hear me?" I called out, but it felt like the pain in my head kicked in even harder again, forcing my eyes shut once more; when they opened again, everywhere was considerably darker and less blurry; something felt profoundly weird, and then I smelt it: blood.
Rushing to the front of the pack house, there were numerous dead bodies scattered around, some were still alive but deeply wounded. I couldn't find Skyla anywhere.
A powerful feeling of deja vu settled uncomfortably in my chest.
I made to run into the pack house when I saw the pair of golden yellow eyes peering intently at me, lurking ominously behind the shadows. My heart stopped for a few terrifying seconds, then began beating with a strange strength I knew felt even stranger. It was the exact same beast from my nightmare.
I turned, scurrying frantically back the way I came, when it let out a fierce, guttural growl. Long canines appeared as it advanced swiftly towards me.
Where was Skyla when I so desperately needed her? I ran, watching it follow relentlessly behind me from my peripheral vision.
Then I saw her, standing directly in front of the door with those ancient, intricate markings on them. As if I could suddenly read their meaning, I ran even faster.
My legs propelled me forward, and when I bent to look at them, the sheer shock made me stumble and tumble over. Furs covered everything. Long limbs. Strong. Thick.
How had I shifted without even knowing? Even though it was only a partial shift. I had thought shifting came with the agonizing cracking of bones, and…
Then I spotted the mark at the back of my palm, pulling it closer to my face; the pain shot through my head again with blinding intensity, shutting my eyes.
By the time I opened my eyes, it was Skyla's distinct sea blue eyes peering gently into mine, strange pairs of other eyes looking down at me. I tried to sit up, but Skyla firmly held me down.
"What's going on? Is this the room the door led us to?" I asked, my breathing rapid and shallow. I needed to get away, to run.
There were things, monitors, attached to my hands, causing alarm to rise sharply in my throat. "The mark?"
I turned my hand. It wasn't there. "What the fuck is going on?" A solitary tear escaped my eyes. "What was happening to me?"
"She's clearly having a panic attack," Skyla said to someone standing beside her, a middle-aged person from his appearance, with deep grey curls neatly tucked behind a scarf. Skyla's fingers were resting on a TV with many buttons.
I made to move my legs; at least they felt stronger now, but they also felt strangely light. I looked down; the denim from the clothes Skyla had given me was what I was still wearing, forcing me to scream like a banshee, the fear utterly evident in my eyes.
Where were my legs? The furs, the long limbs, the sharp claws. I wanted them back desperately.
Skyla was moving closer to me, something held in her hand. "I shifted, you saw me, right?" The tears continued flowing even though I desperately wanted them to stop.
"Shhh. You'll be fine, honey. You need some rest," Skyla said, putting the needle into my neck.
I wanted to fiercely kick her away, but my legs were strapped securely to the table and my hands were also bound.
The same overwhelming feeling from that night was taking over my body again. Shutting everything down far more quickly than I could have possibly imagined.
"I think she just had a vision," I heard Skyla's voice say to someone before the darkness completely invaded me, sending my mind to another world entirely.