SEVENTY SEVEN

SEVENTY SEVEN
CAMILLE'S POV

She was the one who gave me my name. I reached for her face, hoping to comfort hers. But my hands wouldn't bend to my will.

As quickly as it came, the sight in front of me began to dim.

"No... No..."

I watched helplessly as the memory of my mother's gentle face and her loving words faded into most.

The sense of disorientation that washed over me while it happened was the worst.

The comforting warmth of the past dissolved into the cold reality of the present.

I was blinking back tears while lingering traces of the vision vanished.

The light covering my body slowly dimmed, and slowly, the familiar surroundings of my bedroom came back into focus.

I lay there for a while. Coping. Whatever my wolf hoped to achieve by showing me that memory, it was working.

I did feel better. It was nice not to feel so alone.

"You've always been with me?" I asked my wolf, knowing very well she could as well bury herself in my subconscious again.

"Always." She replied. "The dark cannot exist without the light. There cannot be a summer without an autumn. You and I are one and the same. When the time is right, we will be joined."

"Why were you always silent, never present?"

"I was always here, waiting in the shadows of your soul," my wolf replied, her voice resonating with a sense of ancient wisdom. "But there are times when silence is necessary, when the journey must be walked alone. I have watched over you, guiding you from afar, waiting for the moment when you would be ready to embrace the full extent of what you are to become."

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I absorbed the weight of my wolf's words. It was both comforting and unsettling to know that my constant companion had been there from the very beginning, silently watching and waiting for the right moment to reveal herself.

"But why now?" I asked. "You only show up in times of danger. Do you think I am in danger?"

My wolf's response was a soft growl that I felt in the crevices of my soul.

"You feel it, too. The strangeness in the air. I only speak of what is to come from fighting a rabid bitch. I cannot have you succumbing to guilt that doesn't belong to you in our greatest battle yet. Rely on me from now on, and I will do the same. For our sake, our children, and our mate."

I felt her presence diminish as she finished the words. It made me realize that she had receded.

With a more stable mind, I sat up and reached for the phone. I looked at the call list and realized that I had gotten numerous calls from Ophelia.

My fingers hovered over the screen, hesitating for a moment before I finally pressed the call button. The phone rang once, twice, before Ophelia's voice filled the line.

"Camille? Thank the stars. You're okay," she exclaimed, her tone laced with relief. "I've been trying to reach you all morning. I got the horrible news. Are you alright?"

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my racing heart. Bad news did tend to spread like wildfire.

"I'm fine, Ophelia. Just had... a lot on my mind."

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Ophelia spoke again, her voice softening with concern. "Is there anything I can do? Anything you need?"

I smiled faintly, touched by her sincerity. "Just your friendship, Ophelia. That's all I need right now."

"Of course, Camille," Ophelia replied, her voice warm and reassuring as always. "I'll be here for you. What do you want to talk about?"

"I don't know. My thoughts are just everywhere. What do you think of destiny, Ophelia? Is it a made concept, or are situations just out of our control?"

"I am only a witch who knows her brews. The universe is a broad concept on its own. I do believe destiny is a situation out of our control. Why do you ask? Do you blame yourself for Milana's suicide?"

"It wasn't a suicide," I informed. "Milana was murdered. She was killed by Eva."

"Your sister?"

"Don't call her that. That woman is not my sister. She is a murderer. I know her atrocities. Crimes that are beyond forgivable. I hate her so much. But yet, I can't get the thought that she is only a creature of my creation out of my head."

"Why would you think that?" Ophelia's voice softened.

My throat became tight and dry. "It's like a nightmare I can't wake up from. If I weren't found out, all these suffering wouldn't have happened. Things would be normal. The druids discovering me is what brought this hell in the first place. It is like I am the cog that made Eva what she is today. "

"You cannot be blaming yourself," Ophelia interjected. "You are not the reason a monster is born. Eva is responsible for her own choices and actions. You cannot shoulder the burden of her sins."

"I know," I replied, though the weight of guilt still hung heavy on my shoulders. "But I can't shake the feeling that I could have done something to stop her, to prevent this tragedy from happening."

"Camille, you might be a healer, but you can't fix everything that is broken," Ophelia reassured me. "You are not a god."

Her words offered some comfort, but the guilt still gnawed at me. I could feel my wolf rioting inside of me.

"I just wish things were different," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I wish I could turn back time and undo the pain and suffering that Eva has caused. I
Not even for her sake. I just want that simple life back."

"Unfortunately, we cannot change the past," Ophelia replied gently. "But you can shape the future. So stop dreaming about the past, little Luna. It is set in stone."

I chuckled. "My wolf told me that too."

"She talks to you now?"

"Yes. She even showed me a memory. I saw my mother."

"Luna Bo?" Ophelia's voice was filled with surprise.

But something happened when she mentioned my mother's name. The way she said the words sounded so familiar. I couldn't even understand why it bothered me so much. But it did.

"Yes," I finally responded. "I did not think we even met. But we did. I used to think my adoptive father gave me my name. But it was her. My mother."

"What was it like?" Ophelia asked, her interest piqued.

"It was like stepping into a different world," I replied, recalling the vivid images that had flooded my mind during the vision. "I saw her holding me as a baby, whispering words of love and protection. It was bittersweet, knowing that she was gone and all, but it was also comforting to feel her presence."

"That was it?" Ophelia asked. The way she said it implied that there had to be more. "Did you see anything else?"

"There was someone else in the room," I replied. "A midwife or nurse, I believe. She was worried about my mother. It turns out the cause of her death was a hemorrhage..." The words trailed off.

I realized why I had gotten that feeling when Ophelia had mentioned my mother's name. It sounded the same way that mystery woman had said it.

Before Ophelia could respond, a commotion that seemed to be happening outside caught my attention.

A man's anguished cries pierced the otherwise serene afternoon.

"Take me to your king! Let me see that murderer!" The man demanded.

"What is happening?" Ophelia asked.

"I have no idea," I replied, approaching a window cautiously.

Peering outside, I saw the situation unfolding.

Sentinels were holding a man back—some with sharp-ended spears in his face and others with guns. But the man didn't seem even to care.

His face was contorted with rage and despair. His cries echoed through the afternoon. They sounded like what could only come from grief.

I realized immediately who he was.

"Camille?"

My attention returned to my phone. "Milana's father is here. I'll call you later," I murmured, my voice barely audible over the chaos outside.

"Okay, Camille," Ophelia replied. "Take care of yourself."

I nodded, already moving to end the call. But before I could do so, I heard a voice emanating from my phone, startling me with its suddenness.

"Sounds like her wolf is already ripening," the voice said, their words sending a chill down my spine.

Because the voice wasn't Ophelia.

"The merging is near. If the stillborn is the reason for this, I will allow her breath for now."