SEVENTY NINE

SEVENTY NINE
CAMILLE'S POV

"What?" Was Ophelia's reply. "Camille does not sound alright. She needs us."

I couldn't move a muscle.

Who was the other party? What was the merging? What was this about?

"Don't make me laugh." The other voice retorted. "You speak as if you're her family, as if you care for her. Yet, you're merely spying on her for favors."

Hearing that damning sentence caused my blood to run cold. Why would Ophelia be spying on me for favors? I was the one who found her. Our meeting was fated. Except... Except it wasn't.

"I'm not claiming to be superior. But Camille seems to be going through hell, all because of your vengeful vendetta. If you hadn't brought that forsaken child back to life, Camille wouldn't be enduring this torment."

Forsaken child? What was going on? The shouting outside my window became even louder, coupled with knots that were forming in my head. Eva was the reason for my torment. Was that who Ophelia was referring to? Why was she implying that Eva was brought to life? Who was the mystery woman, and why was I tied in her vendetta?

"Vengeful vendetta?" The other person scoffed. The voice was starting to sound familiar. I had heard it before. "The mother—"

She did not get to finish. I did not get to hear what she had to say. The call got cut.

I sat there for a minute, wondering what was happening. Ophelia was a friend. A good friend. Whatever conversation she was having with this other party hinted that she wasn't. That she came close to me for some favor. Was the story about leaving the Begonia coven a lie? But it also sounded like she was angry at this person, for my sake.

I wasn't sure what to think. But I was going to have a conversation with Ophelia as soon as I could.

The noise outside got heated, but this time, it was followed by a gunshot.

My heart lurched at the sound of the gunshot. Panic flooded my senses, and instinctively, I rushed to the window, throwing it open to peer outside.

Chaos engulfed below. The screaming man was latching to his arm, which was now bleeding profusely, as he glared at a sentinel who had his gun cocked at the man.

The sentinel was probably the culprit of the injury. I watched the man's eyes turn dark. Even from a distance, I recognized what was about to happen. The rippling of muscles and the strange shift in his face as bones and skins contorted like melting rubber implied that the man was about to shift, which was unheard of for a Lycan.

The full moon wasn't upon us.

"This is bad," I muttered to myself just as my door slammed open.

Neal rushed in with the kids and the babysitter.

Neal's eyes darted around the room as he led the kids in. I could see Sophia and Collins looked terrified.

They rushed to my side immediately.

"Mom, we heard... gunshots." Collins stammered.

I pulled them close and patted their back. "It is nothing," I assured them before turning to face Neal. "What is happening?"

"Milana's father is here. He is angry, and it looks like he is about to take rash actions. It could get bloody. So I suggest you stay here with the kids. For your safety."

"Stay here?" I scoffed. "Where is Dimitri?"

"He is not close, which is good. I will diffuse this as his Beta. There is no need to worry him."

"Just stay here until I come back," he instructed them firmly, his voice steady despite the underlying tension.

The children nodded, wide-eyed and trembling, clinging to each other for comfort.

The babysitter, though clearly frightened, nodded in agreement, her hands clasped tightly around the children's shoulders.

As Neal turned to leave, his gaze met mine, and for a fleeting moment, I saw the worry etched in his expression. But he masked it quickly, his demeanor shifting to one of resolve.

"I'll be back soon," he promised, his voice barely above a whisper.

When Neal left, the babysitter proceeded to shut the door behind him and gather the children to a corner.

I, on the other hand, couldn't just sit idly by. I gazed out the window and caught sight of Neal approaching the man in my line of sight.

"Mr. Legrand," Neal regarded. "Put yourself together, or my men would be forced to put you down."

"Give me Dimitri, or there will be blood."

I watched Neal stalk closer, and my heart started to race. I took a second to look at my kids, who were being pacified in the corner by the werewolf babysitter. They seemed so afraid.

This was the life I had tried to keep them out of. But fate was cruel enough to show me that what I wanted was useless.

"You are outnumbered, Dorian Legrand. Whose blood do you think will flow?"

"Yours. If you keep on protecting that murderer." And as if to prove a point, Legrand let go of the hand he had been latching on to from the gun wound from before. I knew the Sentinels used a pellet made out of a potent mix of both werewolf and Lycan toxins. So, seeing the man's hand heal fine in a span of minutes was a cause for great concern.

That would also explain how he had attempted to shift on his own accord in broad daylight.

Neal's expression hardened, his jaw set in determination as he assessed the situation before him. "Dorian, you know I can't do that," he replied evenly, his voice betraying none of the grief I knew he must feel for doing this.

Dorian's lips curled into a sneer, and his eyes narrowed with disdain. "Then you leave me no choice," he spat, his tone dripping with venom. "I'll have to take matters into my own hands. I'll kill you all if that is what it takes to get to him."

Faster than my eyes could follow, Dorian lunged forward, his movements swift and calculated as he targeted a Sentinel.

Instinct, however, kicked in for Neal.

Neal was faster. With a speed that belied a Cheetah, he moved to block Dorian's path in a defensive stance.

"Dorian, don't do this," Neal pleaded, his voice tinged with sadness. "I know you are hurting. But think about what you're doing. Following your grief and rage mindlessly is treason. There's still time to make things right."

But Dorian was beyond reason. His eyes blazed with fury as he launched himself at Neal, a snarl of rage twisting his features.

His face twisted again, and this time, canines the size of nine-inch nails protruded out of his mouth.

He intended to sink them into Neal's face. My eyes widened in horror as I watched the unfolding scene before me.

Time seemed to slow as Dorian's monstrous face transformation reached its climax.

A pump of adrenaline traveled through my bloodstream as a guttural scream propelled by a desperate instinct to protect Neal from the impending threat forced its way out of my throat.

My children must have been terrified because Sophia started to cry. But before Milana's father's fangs could sink into Neal, another figure stepped into the fray.

It was Dimitri.

In a blur of motion, he intercepted Dorian, his movements fluid and precise.

With unrivaled strength, he easily deflected Mr. Legrand's attack, sending the man crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.

"Dorian, stop!" He commanded, his voice trembling with authority. "This ends now."