CAMILLA'S POV.
I moved alongside him, each of his steps unsteady as he staggered with every few paces. I did my best to support him, holding him up to keep him from collapsing, but my mind was in a whirlwind. The aftermath of the fight had left me deeply unsettled.
Not only had he hit me, but he had also pushed me away, and now, seeing him in such a state; drunk and disoriented, was disconcerting.
He managed to make his way to the bed and sank down onto it with a tired, almost defeated sigh.
As he mumbled incoherently in a few hushed tones, I strained to understand his words, but they remained unclear and jumbled.
I watched him closely, trying to piece together what was happening.
The phrase “I want my Astrid back!” echoed repeatedly in my mind. It was as if his drunken state was only amplifying his desperation, but it didn't make sense to me.
What did being drunk have to do with his desire to reclaim her? What was going on inside his head? His actions and words were frustrating, and I couldn’t help but feel a growing sense of unease as I struggled to make sense of the situation.
“Where have you been?” I demanded, my voice trembling with anger.
“You piss me off by showing up like this, returning with your pathetic self after everything that happened.” My emotions were in chaos.
I knew deep down that maintaining this aggressive front might not be helpful, but I couldn't shake the frustration.
I turned towards the door, questioning the point of continuing this conversation with someone so clearly drunk.
Just as I was about to leave, he suddenly blurted out, “You know, I went to see Astrid today.” His words captured my full attention. I pivoted back to face him, my anger flaring even more.
“I want my Astrid back,” he continued, his voice slurred but filled with distress.
“I went to see her, but Dane kicked me out! He wouldn’t let me see her. I was thrown out and tossed to the floor.” Hearing this made me gasp, a mix of disbelief and astonishment washing over me.
It was hard to believe he would go to such lengths just to see her.
It was evident he was deeply troubled, but the fact that he was going through so much effort for Astrid, while disregarding my own situation, stung deeply.
“Why are you so obsessed with her?” I demanded, feeling a surge of hurt and frustration.
“Are you really willing to go this far, just to humiliate me? Is that what this is about?” The realisation hit me hard; he truly seemed cold to my feelings and problems recently, focusing instead on his own obsession with Astrid.
It was clear now that he didn’t care about me at all and she caused it.
He erupted into loud, mocking laughter at my words, and the sound pierced through me like a knife. The sight of him so consumed by thoughts of Astrid made my pain feel even more unbearable.
If it had been any other woman, perhaps I could have overlooked it, but why did it have to be Astrid? The idea that she always seemed to get what I wanted made me seethe with rage, and I felt a visceral urge to strangle the life out of her.
I clenched my teeth, channelling all my anger and resentment toward her. I couldn’t hold back any longer.
Turning sharply on my heel, I was about to walk away from Halfdan. I had heard enough of his self-pitying drama and pointless nonsense.
But just as I thought I could escape, his grip tightened painfully around my wrist, sending a shiver down my spine.
“Please, wait. Don’t go,” he pleaded, his voice desperate and laced with regret. As I turned back, a smile involuntarily crept onto my lips.
His desperation was almost pitiful. He pulled me closer, and I stumbled into his embrace, our bodies pressed tightly together. I bit my lower lip, trying to process the situation.
“Finally, you’ve come to your senses,” I said softly, trying to hide the bitterness in my voice. He nodded slowly, his expression a mix of relief and vulnerability.
“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice filled with remorse.
“I won’t ever reject you again. I want you back, Astrid. Please don’t leave me.”
“What? Astrid?” I exclaimed in shock.
As I heard his words, a sinking feeling of disgust and embarrassment hit me. I knew now that my presence and his apology were not what mattered to him right now.
He seemed to be so lost in his drunken state that he was addressing me as if I were Astrid.
It was clear he didn’t recognize me for who I was, nor did he show any respect for my own feelings.
The reality hit hard; I didn’t matter to him at that moment, and maybe it was time to deal with this entire mess even more. We had both had enough of this embarrassing and painful situation.
I swallowed hard, feeling a lump in my throat, as I pushed myself away from him.
Anger surged through me, and I sprang to my feet, my frustration propelling me toward the door. I stormed out of the house, driven by a fierce, uncontrollable rage.
Once outside, I made my way to the open field, the expansive space reflecting my turmoil.
There, I screamed at the top of my lungs, the raw, guttural sound echoing through the night as my irritation shook me to my core.
He loved her. He wanted her back. He regretted rejecting her. The realisation was like a slap in the face.
That son of a bitch! That bloody bastard was acting as if the world would fall apart if Astrid didn’t take him back. The more I thought about it, the more infuriated I became.
Seeing how deeply he was tied to her made it painfully clear that if Astrid ever took him back, I would be left in the dust.
It was obvious now that he intended to screw me over from the start, to use me as a mere stepping stone.
Like a fool, I had fallen for it, made into a puppet in his grand scheme. It was time to change things, to take control and rectify this mess.
I had to find a way to get rid of her for good. It seemed like no matter what happened, she always came out unharmed.
It was as if she was protected by some invisible force, favoured by the moon goddess herself.
Not even death seemed able to touch her, and that thought only fueled my determination.
The thought that not even death seemed able to touch her only intensified my resolve. I stopped in my tracks, frustration boiling over.
I ran my hands through my dishevelled hair and gazed up at the dark sky, exhaling a long, heavy breath.
The nature of the situation made it clear that this wasn’t going to be easy, but I had to give it my all. I couldn’t afford to back down now.
I had invested everything I had into this, and losing this last chance was not an option.
Determined, I pulled out my phone and dialled a number, the call connecting almost immediately.
“Come meet me at the field, right now,” I snapped into the phone, my voice taut with anger.
I hung up and paced back and forth, my emotions a volatile mix of frustration and anticipation, waiting for him to arrive.
When he finally showed up, he approached with a respectful bow, bending on one knee. “Luna Camilla, you asked for me,” he said, his posture humble and his expression attentive.
“Yes, I did,” I replied sharply, maintaining a stern demeanour.
“The situation is quite straightforward. There’s been a lot of commotion, and you owe me a favour, remember?” I emphasised the last part, watching as Beta Drake nodded vigorously in agreement. A sneer on my lips.
“You owe me for when I saved you from the rogues and other dangers years ago,” I continued, ensuring he understood the gravity of my words.
“Do you remember that?” I asked pointedly, wanting to be certain he was still appreciative of the debt he owed me and willing to fulfil his end of the bargain.
“Yes, Luna Camilla, I do remember. I recall thanking you and swearing by the moon goddess to repay you one day,” he replied earnestly.
His acknowledgment of the debt brought a sense of relief. At least he was aware of his obligation to me.
“Now, I need Astrid dead, and I need it done tonight,” I commanded with unwavering authority. His eyes widened in shock as he met my gaze, clearly taken aback by the sudden harshness of my request.
“But… Alpha Halfdan still wants her,” Beta Drake stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
“If he finds out about this, he would kill me without hesitation.” His concern was evident, but a cold smile spread across my lips.
“Exactly why you must be discreet,” I replied coolly.
“No one would suspect you. Make sure the job is done swiftly and cleanly. I want her dead by tonight, and I expect you to bring her blood to me as proof.” My tone left no room for argument, and I turned sharply, heading back inside the house, leaving only Beta Drake to himself and his confusion.
Halfdan was now sprawled across the bed, deeply asleep and still in his clothes from earlier.
I approached him quietly, feeling a mix of bitterness and anger. Hovering above him, I reached out and gently touched his face, my fingers brushing against his skin with a touch both tender and cold.
“And now,” I murmured softly, my voice carrying a blend of hurt and revenge.
“I hope you get exactly what you deserve... I hope he betrays you just as you betrayed my love for you, Halfdan.”