Authors: Lexi Lewis
Camilla couldn’t breathe. The familiar smell of the pride house was thick in her nose, though the cold dampness of the cellar and the musty smell of mildew and mold was layered over that. Her heart was racing so fast she could taste her pulse and she couldn’t sit still. She had been so close. So damned close. All she’d had to do was get on the train and she would have been home free. But Paul had anticipated her method of leaving, and now she was right back in his clutches.
She still hadn’t seen him yet, either. Adam and Thomas had dragged her to their car at the train station and then put her in the back seat, locking the doors and driving her back to the pride house. Before she could so much as think of getting away from them, they’d each grabbed one of her arms in a tight grip and tossed her into the cellar. “Paul will be back soon,” Adam had said before he’d slammed the door closed. “He’s handling some business.” The lock turning had been loud in the otherwise silent cellar, and Camilla’s stomach had dropped. Paul hated handling business without her, and she could only imagine the kind of mood he was going to be in when he got back.
They’d neglected to take her bag from her, so she still had her money, the flashlight she’d tucked in there when she’d run away, a change of clothes, and the sandwiches from Karic.
Karic.
It had broken her heart a little bit to make him watch as she was led away, knowing there was nothing he could do to save her. It was better this way if the only other option was for him to get hurt. She wouldn’t have been able to live with herself if something had happened to him because of her.
“Alright, Camilla,” she said to herself, trying to calm down. “You don’t have to panic. You can figure a way out of this.” She dug in her bag and found the flashlight, shining it around to get a better view of her prison. In all of her time living in the house, she had never set foot in the cellar, knowing the kind of things that Paul used it for.
The floor was hard, cold earth, and the walls were damp and moldy. There was a little window in the door that led to the outside, but she knew that it was useless. It was too high up for her to get the door unlocked if she broke it and much too small for her to try to climb through. There were no other openings anywhere in the small room, and she sighed. Apparently the only way she was getting out was through the door, and that wasn’t going to happen until Paul showed up. A confrontation was inevitable.
Good. It was time for one. She might not have been away from him for very long, but she had learned a thing or two about herself in the time she had been gone. She was tired of being a pawn, a tool. This was going to end, one way or another.
First the bastard just had to show up.
Hours passed, and Camilla could tell it was dark outside from the way the cellar went from being gloomy to being pitch black. She could feel the darkness pressing in around her, and she had to remind herself several times that there was nothing in it that could hurt her. All the enemies were outside, and really, in here was the safest place for her to be.
Her skin felt itchy and too small, so after taking a few deep breaths and making sure she couldn’t hear anything outside, she began to strip out of her clothes. Camilla didn’t know if not being human for this would be an advantage, but it was better than being defenseless. Instead of trying to calm down, she focused on the anxiety and tangle of emotions inside of her, letting it build and stretch until she felt like it was going to burst out of her. She channeled the wildness that rode in her blood and closed her eyes, willing her body to remake itself.
Her bones changed shape, and she gritted her teeth against the grinding pain of it, focusing on the balance and power of her animal, calling the lioness to her and willing it into being. As the animal pushed past the human in her, golden fur spread and the cellar got clearer as her highly superior night vision kicked in. Camilla folded down onto all fours, paws and claws taking the place of her hands and fingers, feet and toes, and she stretched, flicking her tail and grinning to bare her teeth. Already she felt more powerful, more in control. Paul could come and do his worst; she wasn’t afraid of him like this.
Being penned in made things worse because she wanted to roam and most of all to
hunt
. She wanted to sink her teeth into her prey and rip and tear until it was no longer an issue. But enough of Camilla’s mind remained that she kept herself still and quiet. If she played this right, she could catch them by surprise when they opened the door. This could be her chance. It would take them at least a few minutes to change and chase after her, and she could put plenty of distance between them in that time.
Pacing the room wasn’t going to help anything, so Camilla settled down with her head on her paws, facing the door. Anything or anyone that opened it would have to deal with her, and she contented herself with forming plans in her mind, ways to escape and get help. Maybe if she went to the police they could do something to help. And then once Paul and his people were out of the way, she could stay in the town with Karic and be happy. It would be fine. All she had to do was…
What was that? Her ears perked up at the sound of footsteps outside the door. She couldn’t smell anything with all the damp and mold in the cellar, but she could tell that there was someone out there, so she got to her feet warily flexing her claws and getting ready to pounce. The sound of a key being turned in the lock sent a jolt of anxiety through her, but she pushed it down. That wasn’t going to help either. Nothing happened for several seconds, and then the door was pulled open and a brilliant light blinded her instantly.
After being in the dark for so long, she couldn’t see in the light, and she shrank back, shaking her head to try and clear the spots from her vision. Dammit, there went her plan.
A cruel laugh cut through her disorientation, and Camilla’s heart sank. As long as she lived, she would never forget that laugh, having heard it too many times to count already. Paul. He always had been too clever for his own good, and this was just proof that nothing had changed. He still knew how to keep her at a disadvantage.
“Well, well,” he said, and Camilla could hear the smirk in his voice. “My little flower is home again. Did you think you were going to get away from me that easily, Camilla, my pet? Did you think that I wouldn’t find you?”
She growled low in her throat, snapping her teeth at him. The light dimmed, and her vision cleared enough that she could see him standing there. On either side of him were Adam and Thomas, both shifted into their lion forms and standing guard. She was outnumbered and cornered, and she was starting to panic all over again.
“What did you think you were going to accomplish by shifting, my dear?” he asked her. “Were you going to overpower me? Tear my throat out and escape into the night?” He laughed again. “I really don’t think so. Let me tell you what is going to happen. I am going to outfit this cellar with a lovely pallet and perhaps a blanket or two and I will lock you in here every night if I have to. When you come in the house, you will be at my side at all times. I even have a nice new collar and lead to make sure that you can’t run away from me.”
There was no doubt in her mind that he would do what he was threatening to, either. He had to be upset with her for being gone. Even just three days without her was enough to make him lose business more than likely, and if there was one thing Paul hated, it was losing business. He was terrible at reading people without her help, and it didn’t help matters that there were enough rumors about what went on in this place that people didn’t really trust him. And who could blame them, really? Paul was a crook through and through. He didn’t even do his own dirty work, just pulled the strings from his chair and made other people handle the things he was too weak to handle. Sure, he had a stunning capacity for cruelty, but if they all banded against him, he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.
But that wouldn’t happen. People were too afraid of him. Even if Thomas and Adam were the ones who usually ended up handling the people Paul wanted to disappear, the credit went to their leader.
Camilla dropped her head, mind racing as she tried to think of some way out of this. She had to get out of the cellar first and foremost. It would be much easier to get out of the house than the cellar, and she was sure that Paul wanted to flaunt the fact that he had her back. Her heart clenched at the thought of giving up the only thing that seemed to be an advantage, but she didn’t know what else to do. Swallowing hard, she concentrated on willing herself back into her human skin, shifting everything in reverse until she was huddled on the cold ground, arms wrapped around herself.
“There’s a good girl,” Paul praised in a sickly sweet voice. “I knew you would see reason eventually. I really am the only one who can care for you properly, you know. Even your own parents went off and left you. Any friends you might have made when you ran off from me like a bad girl would have found out how much blood is on your hands and run from you, too. You belong here, isn’t that right?”
It wasn’t the first time he had said things like that to her, and usually a pit opened up in her stomach because she’d always assumed that he was right. But now…now she knew that he wasn’t. It wasn’t her fault what had happened to those people. True, she had helped, but Paul would have found a way to hurt them with or without her because that’s the way he was. She knew that there were people out there who would accept her, and an image of Karic’s face, those bright green eyes gleaming as he smiled at her flashed in her head. He knew better. He knew that she wasn’t a tool or a monster or a killer. And that was enough to keep her going and help her through this.
“I…I’m sorry I ran away,” she said, keeping her voice low and shaky. Most of the fear was real, but there was surely no harm in playing it up just a bit. Paul wouldn’t be able to detect a lie if she did this right. “I was just…I only wanted to…”
“There, there,” Paul said, and he snapped his fingers and turned back to the door. “One of you got get a robe or something for her cover up in.” The sound of retreating paws distracted them both for a moment, and then Paul was crouching down next to her. “You’re a very bad girl, and you will have to be punished for defying me, but you home now, and that’s what matters.”
Camilla just nodded, working hard not to let her disgust show on her face. He had always talked to her like this, like she was no better than a child and a stupid one at that, and she was sick of it. The anger building in her made her want to shift again, but she kept it down. Not yet. She had to bide her time.
One of the other women in the pride, Shelly, came in holding a silky robe. “Oh, you poor thing,” she said, covering her mouth with one hand when she saw Camilla. Shelly had always been kind to her, and Camilla had a moment to feel terrible about the fact that even if she left there would still be good people who were stuck with Paul. He made it so that they couldn’t see any other way to live, and then they stayed with him, even though he was awful.
“She’s fine,” Paul snapped, taking the robe and holding it out to Camilla. “Cover up and then we will go inside. I have a few people lined up to speak with. Some of them want to get protection from the pride, and I’m not sure I can trust their motives. You’ll help me, won’t you, my pet?”
Shelly cringed and looked away, and Camilla didn’t blame her. She had to swallow down the urge to vomit, but she nodded. “Yes. I’ll help.”
“Good girl. I knew you could be good if you wanted to be. Come. Let’s get you out of this nasty cellar for right now.” He turned away to walk back to the door, grabbing Shelly by the arm and towing her out as well. When it was relatively private, Camilla uncurled herself and wrapped the robe around her, tying it tight. Paul had never shown any interest in her body or anything other than her power and what he could use it for, but she didn’t want to give him any ideas. No matter how sweet he was talking to her now, she knew that there was something nasty being planned as a punishment.
When she was as decent as she was going to get, she stepped out, coming to stand at Paul’s side. He’d released Shelly, and his hand bit into her arm when he grabbed it. There was no way she was going to get free from him as they walked back to the house, so she didn’t even try. Instead she just let him haul her back to the house that had been her prison for her entire life. It felt like such a step backwards, being dragged back there, but she comforted herself with the knowledge that this would be the last time. She was going to make sure of it.