KAMILA'S POV
I feel a painful tugging in my soul as I put the finishing touches on my blood-red nail polish, carefully filling out the edges with the liquid.
It hits hard and fast, ripping my heart out, shredding a part of me to pieces like shockwaves reverberating through my body.
Clutching my chest, I scream in agony, tumbling off my bed onto the hard floor, stunned.
My wolf, feeling it as acutely as I do, wails and shrinks into a ball on the inside.
I've felt this before-every single time he gave a piece of himself to Sharon from art class or Rebecca from cultural history class.
But this time it's different, more painful, as if the energy is being sucked out of me. I lie on the hard floor in cold sweat until the pain finally seizes.
Breathing again, I can faintly sense our bond, as thin as a thread tying him and me together.
Once it lets up, I remain on the floor, staring at the ceiling, silently piecing everything together.
He's with the human girl.
I just know it; I can feel it in my bones.
He's returned to her, choosing her again after everything she did, after her betrayal. He pushed me away without a second thought.
It hurts. I can't remember the last time I cried over this, but I recall it was at the beginning, when I realized our bond was flawed.
Since then, I swore not to let it affect me. I refuse to shed a tear even when faced with the harsh reality.
The pain stings, as if I'm being seared in a fire, all alone with no one to douse the flames.
I'm exhausted, tired of being the strong and resilient one, the only one invested in maintaining order.
In moments like these, I should be able to lean on him or someone, at least to lift some of the burden off my shoulders.
Yet here I am, in an empty room, alone with nothing but silence and furniture for company.
They say friends are a godsend in times of emotional turmoil, but sadly, I don't have that privilege.
My own boyfriend can't be trusted, and the people around me are nothing but opportunistic mongrels, seeing me as a golden ticket.
I have no one to turn to.
I have no friends.
My father always said only the weak needed companions, yet I crave human connection.
Even though it seems pointless to focus on anything other than my pain, I know I must reconvene and plan my next steps.
Guided by a moment of vulnerability, I rise to my feet and leave my room. Before I know it, I'm standing just outside Ace's room.
Since his fallout with Artemis, he's been stripped of all the privileges he had before. They shipped him to a new room-smaller, with two other roommates.
I knock three times, standing right in front of his door, second-guessing my decision to come here in the first place.
Of all the people in the world to seek out, why would I ever look for a bumbling idiot like Ace? He ruined the only good thing in his life because of uncontrollable emotions.
That's right; I made a big mistake.
I make the move to leave when the door opens.
"Kamila?" His voice comes out soft and confused.
I turn back to look at him, and he's a mess standing in the doorway-tired eyes with bags hanging under them, a messy head of hair that doesn't look like it's been washed in weeks, and baggy clothes with stains on them.
He looks nothing like his previous self, and I'm immediately disappointed and appalled by the sight.
But who am I to point fingers?
The only reason I'm here is that I have no one else. This deadbeat idiot is the only person who possibly doesn't want anything but his stupid feelings being reciprocated.
"What are you doing here?" he asks.
"I just... I came here to see how you're doing. I heard you haven't been attending classes," I say.
He remains silent, watching me.
I clear my throat. "Despite the fact that your social standing has crumbled, neglecting your studies would be a foolish next choice of action," I add, avoiding his eyes.
He still says nothing, looking me over and making me feel uncomfortable in the process. He's the only one who knows how to really look at me and unravel the knots carefully put in place to conceal my true feelings.
And I hate it so much.
"Kamila," he finally says.
"Hmm?"
"We both know that's not why you're here. You don't make random visits to anyone, not even Artemis," he figures me out easily. I gulp and strike a pose to defend myself.
"Why else would I be here, then?"
He sighs, stepping aside and giving me space to enter his room. His unspoken words and actions invite me in, and after seconds of reluctance, I walk in.
His room is surprisingly tidy, compared to his disheveled appearance, and he guides me to his bed where I sit. I stare at the space for a while, unable to fathom how three beds could fit in this small room, or how the other two roommates could manage with someone who has his temperament.
He must have bullied the other two fools into complacency by now, I imagine.
"So, tell me why you're really here," he says, sitting right in front of me with a serious look.
I watch him for a moment, confused by his easy reception and the lack of contempt in his eyes. Everyone I know looks at me with contempt, even my own mother.
That human girl, whom I thought to be different, eventually did too when things got too real for her.
Why doesn't he hate me yet?
"You're looking at me like you're genuinely interested in my impromptu visit," I note.
He shrugs casually. "I am; you've never reached out first," he points out.
"Shouldn't you be a mass of fury right now? The only reason you're in such a pathetic state is because of me. You acted foolishly, unable to contain my rejection, and now you've lost your friends and you're alone."
Like me.
He seems solemn now, unable to meet my eyes again. But amidst that sadness, there's no resentment, no hate-every negative emotion he has is targeted only at himself.
"Don't you despise me?" I ask.
He smiles at me, a tired and sad smile.
"I wanted to, but I don't think I can. You're conniving, wicked, heartless. You care for nothing other than yourself, and you don't mind using everyone around you."
"And yet...?"
"And yet I can't hate you. I hoped every day that one day you'd think of me, and here you are."
I frown.
"You're stupid and pitiful," I snap suddenly.
For some reason, his logic-if there's even a shred of it-angers me. I stand to my feet, accepting that I made a mistake coming here.
"You had everything and you threw it away for someone who cares very little about whether you'd drop dead any second. With so much ease, you can spit that nonsense of hoping I'd think of you for a second? How little do you think of yourself?"
"Not very much, I realize," he says, his voice timid.
There's so much acceptance in his tone, like he's already lost the fight inside, like he's given up.
My own anger grows simply from watching him. The fire in his eyes that was once there is now burnt out. He's a shell of himself, and I hate it.
"This isn't the Ace I know. You were proud; you were better. You had so much power, and now you're nothing," I spit bitterly in his face.
Yet strangely, my own chest hurts and my lips tremble.
I feel all the emotion washing over me as I speak, desperately wanting him to stand up and fight again.
Worry etches on his features instead-a worry that's directed at me for some reason.
It's only now that I feel it, the hot liquid dripping from my eyes, my hands shaking with every insult and accusation I throw at him.
"Kamila, are you okay?" He looks at me, rushing to his feet and drawing closer.
His eyes seem to pity me. I've grown so useless that now I'm being pitied by someone like him.
I look away, attempting to stop the tears.
"Talk to me." His hands touch me and I lose every ounce of control I have over myself, over this foreign emotion in my chest.
"No! Don't touch me, you pathetic ingrate of a wolf," I shrug his arm off me roughly, bursting into more tears that pour out uncontrollably.
"You're nothing!" I yell, so he knows it, so he feels my pain-the pain I feel realizing that Artemis isn't with me, that I have no one.
That I am useless.
"I'm nothing," I whisper harshly, breaking apart and realizing the truth I've fought for many years-the relevance I've fought to have for myself but never received.
The reality hits too hard, and tears I've held back for years come pouring out in torrents.
Suddenly, I've become this useless little girl again, begging for love.
Begging to be acknowledged for something, begging for someone to just look at her and see more than a tool that can be easily disposed of, I find myself locked in a mental battle.
Ace holds me tight instantly, and instinctively, I fight back.
Though I could easily shove him off-being an Alpha wolf, stronger than he is-I strangely find myself unable to fully push him away.
I struggle until I don't.
He fights until he can hold me tightly against his chest, engulfing me in the warmth of his body, in this absurdly bear-tight hug.
He's not Artemis; he doesn't feel as good as my mate does. My wolf doesn't pine for him, doesn't want him any further.
But my heart-my empty, broken heart that's never been filled with love-craves something more.
I meet his eyes amidst my tears, and he looks at me. It's as if he's telling me how much love he has for me with just that one look.
And then, almost impulsively but with a gravity that feels inevitable, I kiss him.