Chapter Two Hundred And Fifteen

Chapter Two Hundred And Fifteen
Miles’ POV

The first shot cracked through the hall like thunder.

For a second, even I couldn’t hear myself think. Just the sound of it. The recoil punching my arm, the sharp burn of smoke in my nose, the echo bouncing off crystal chandeliers and marble walls.

People screamed. Chairs scraped. Someone dropped a glass; it shattered like a second gunshot. The orchestra stopped mid-note and the music died as if I’d shot it too.

The bullet had gone into the ceiling. I’d done that on purpose.

I wanted their attention.

“Everybody sit down!” I shouted, voice cutting through the noise. “Sit. Down. Now. Or the next one doesn’t miss.”

It took a heartbeat.

Then another.

Then the whole hall moved at once, like a flock of scared birds trying to fold their wings. Guests stumbled back into their seats or dropped to the floor. Women clutched their pearls and veils. Men tried to shield their families with shaking hands but not one of them tried to be a hero.

Cowards. All of them. Money, titles, power… but the second they heard a shot, they collapsed like paper.

My hand tightened on the gun.

Only one person wasn’t cowering.

Camille.

She stood at the center of it all in her wedding dress, white and bright under the chandeliers, veil falling around her like something from a dream I used to have. Her bouquet trembled in her hands but her chin didn’t drop.

For a moment, the noise blurred. The crowd, the hall, the flowers, the music… everything fell away until it was just her and me, like it used to be before all of this.

Before the lies.

Before Sonia.

Before Theo.

“Camille,” I said, and her name tasted like blood and sugar on my tongue.

Her eyes found mine.

There it was. Fear. Anger. Pain. And underneath it all, that same stubborn fire that drew me to her in the first place. The fire that made me think, once, that we could burn the world and build our own.

Instead, she burned me.

I lifted the gun and pointed it at the crowd, not at her. Yet.

“Listen carefully,” I said, voice steady now. “Nobody moves. Nobody runs. Nobody screams. Camille comes with me…” I let the words hang for a second “…or I start shooting for real. And I won’t be picky.”

Someone whimpered in the front row. I didn’t bother looking.

“I love you, Camille,” I said, eyes locked on her. “I always have. You were supposed to choose me.”

A bitter laugh wanted to climb out of my throat, but I swallowed it.

“You were supposed to be my wife forever,” I went on. “My queen. My partner. And yet here you are, dressed up for him.”

Her fingers tightened around the flowers. The bridesmaids flanked her, instinctively moving closer, trying to pull her back. One of them whispered her name like a prayer.

“Let her go,” I snapped. “Move away from her. Now.”

They hesitated.

I fired a second shot into an empty section of wall. Marble dust rained down. A woman screamed. Someone shouted my name. Everyone ducked lower.

“I said move,” I repeated, softer but deadlier.

Slowly, the bridesmaids stepped aside. They didn’t like it. Their hands shook, their faces were pale. But they moved. In the end, fear will always answer faster than loyalty.

Now it was just Camille standing in the center of the aisle.

“Walk to me,” I told her. “Come here.”

She didn’t move.

For a heartbeat, I thought she would. My mind tried to drag up a memory, an old version of her who trusted me, laughed with me, dreamed with me. I almost saw that girl lift her dress and take one step toward me.

But that girl was gone.

This woman stared at me like I was a stranger who’d broken into her home.

“Miles,” she said quietly, her voice carrying through the hall more clearly than any scream. “Put the gun down.”

I almost laughed.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do,” I replied. “Not today. Not after everything.”

Her gaze flicked to the gun, then back to my face. “You’re ruining your life,” she said. “Again.”

“You already ruined it,” I shot back. “You and her.”

The room buzzed with confusion. Her? They didn’t know about Sonia. They didn’t know half of what had been done in the shadows so they could sit here in pretty clothes and talk about love.

All they knew was this moment.

“Walk to me,” I repeated. “You don’t marry him. You belong with me.”

She shook her head, slow and sure. “I don’t belong to you, Miles,” she said. “Not anymore. Not ever again.”

Something cracked in my chest. It hurts to breathe.

“You promised me,” I said. “Do you remember? You said we would face everything together. You said I was your home.”

“And you destroyed that home yourself,” Camille answered, eyes shining but not breaking. “You chose lies. You chose her. You chose hate. Not me.”

Behind her, at the far end of the aisle, movement flickered.

Theo.

He stepped forward, calm, in a dark suit that probably cost more than most of these guests’ cars. No crown, but he didn’t need one. Power sat on him like a second skin. His wolf was close; I could feel it in the way his eyes watched me, patient and cold.

He moved until he stood in front of Camille, blocking my view of her.

I saw red.

“Move,” I snarled. “Step aside.”

“No,” he said simply.

The word hit harder than a punch. No hesitation, no fear. Just no.

I lifted the gun higher. “If you don’t move, I swear to God I’ll…”

“You’ll what?” Theo cut in, voice low but sharp enough to slice the air. “Shoot the man who’s the only thing standing between you and a pack of Lycans ready to tear you apart? Look around you, Miles. You’re not walking out of here with her.”

“You think I’m afraid to die?” I asked, and for the first time, I realized the answer myself.

I wasn’t.

Maybe I should’ve been. Maybe a sane man would be.

But sanity wasn’t something I owned anymore.

“No,” Theo said, studying me like he was reading my thoughts. “I don’t think you’re afraid to die. I think you’re afraid to accept your loss. You lost Camille. You lost your father. You lost your power. And now you’re here trying to steal what you threw away.”

Something ugly twisted in my stomach.

“What do you know about loss?” I spat. “You have everything. The company. The crown. The respect. Her.”

“Yes,” he said. “I have her. Not because I stole her… but because you broke her and walked away.”

Camille’s hand appeared briefly on his arm, a gentle touch, as if she was both calming and holding him.

I hated that.

“Give her to me,” I said, my voice breaking despite me. “Just… let her come. We can talk. We can fix this.”

“She doesn’t want you,” Theo answered, and there was no cruelty in it. That made it worse. “You drugged her. You believed lies about her. You watched her fall and did nothing. You don’t get a second chance at the woman you helped destroy.”

My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my teeth.

“Camille,” I said, ignoring him, focusing only on her. “Tell him. Tell him you still feel something. Tell him this isn’t real. It can’t be real.”