Something nibbled on her hair. Camila opened her eyes. Spoon, the family's pet corgi, promptly licked her nose.

"Oh- Spoon! Stop!" Camila shoved him away. The corgi settled for sticking her nose in Camila's ear and panting happily. Camila considered moving, but her brain felt like it'd been run through a blender and she was neck-deep in blankets, cuddled atop her king-size mattress. Despite Spoon's deathly cold nose, there were worse places to be.

Serena sat on a red armchair next to the bed. Her eyes were closed, her head tilted back to rest against a pillow, and a book lay open across her lap. Although she technically worked for Camila's family, Serena was more Camila's aunt than her servant.

Camila frowned. There was something she should be worried about.

She remembered the mating bond snapping into place between her and that prisoner. Working with her parents to save his life. The kiss. The betrayal. And then- Had he knocked her out?

"Serena!"

"Hmmm?" Serena stirred. She opened a single eye. "Oh! Camila. You're awake. We were worried."

"What happened? Is Alex okay? Did they catch Dec- the Vindicator?"

Serena ran a hand through her hair. As always, she looked like she'd just stepped off the set of a shampoo ad, strands of morning sunlight glittering on her smooth, chestnut hair. "Shhh. Everything's fine. You've had a difficult night."

"But Alex-"

"Is fine. We've got men out searching for the Vindicator."

So he'd gotten away. Camila wasn't sure to be grateful he was alive—the idea of her mate dying sparked sudden, irrational tears in her eyes—or angry that he'd escaped. He'd threatened her life and taken advantage of their bond.

"How are you feeling?"

Camila gingerly touched the back of her skull and winced. "Fine. What are we going to do about the suitors?"

"Feed them, get them drunk, keep them busy. You'll have the day off. Camila-" She closed the book and set it on the bedside table. "Camila, why did you go see the prisoner?"

Camila closed her eyes. Because he was her mate and she was curious? But honestly, the best thing for the country—and for Camila—would be if he simply vanished. Maybe now that he was gone, it would be easier to pretend he'd never existed.

"I don't know. It was a mistake."

Serena nodded. "Okay. I'll let you rest now. Alex is just outside the door if you need anything. C'mon Spoon." The corgi, traitor that she was, clambered over Camila's blanketed body and jumped to the floor.

The room felt strangely quiet without them.

Camila tried to go back to sleep, but she couldn't stop thinking about Declan. How dare he? Aside from a kidnapping attempt when she was five, no one had ever laid a hand on her. And her mate? Her Goddess-approved soulmate? He'd held her prisoner and knocked her out.

And how come she ended up with a criminal for a mate? What did that say about her? Camila rolled over in her bed, trying to get comfortable. Maybe the bond wasn't as big a deal as everyone made it out to be. Her parents weren't technically mated and they were happy. Mating bonds were rare. Maybe that was why it was supposed to be some huge, special thing to find your mate, but really—Camila remembered his hands wrapping around her neck—the mating bond was just chemicals. It was lust, no more, no less.

She tried to stop thinking about him, but it was like using gasoline to extinguish a fire.

His lips had been rough, chapped, and raw. He'd tasted like blood and desire. She thought of the bars pressing into her skin as she fought to get closer to him and the hard planes of muscle in his chest. 

Her first kiss, she realized. Some more traditional packs expected women to be completely pure, untouched, when they married. To keep her options open, Camila had refused any attention she'd received since puberty. Five minutes in a room with her mate and all that waiting was ruined.

Not that anyone would ever know.

Camila pulled herself into a seated position and debated leaving her room. She could get a book from the library or some food from the kitchens.

Her phone, resting quietly on her bedside table, buzzed. Camila grabbed it. There was a new email in her inbox.

She opened it.

Hey Camila. It's Declan. I wanted to say I'm sorry about how our first meeting went down. I imagine you want me to disappear, but just like you, I'm working towards a goal and disappearing isn't an option. When I see you again, I'm going to ask you to join me. You weren't meant to be a trophy wife, handed off to the highest bidder like cattle regardless of your own desires. You're tough, resourceful, and worth more than your title.

You also might want to consider changing bodyguards. The one you've got is hiding something.

Declan

Camila set the phone down, frowning. The letter was simultaneously sweet, insulting--he really thought she'd turn her back on her family and country?--and confusing.

Alex was good at his job and achingly polite, but he wasn't the laughing, caring boy he'd been before he spent a year on the northern border. Camila knew something changed out there, but every time she asked him about it, he shut her down.

"You have your burdens, I have mine," he'd said one day, his blue eyes fixed steadily on the wall to her left. "It's not something I talk about. Just let me do my job." He hadn't sounded angry. If anything, he'd sounded empty, like a man with nothing left.

Worried if she kept pushing he'd break, Camila had backed off. Over the past four years they'd settled into a new relationship, built on politeness and trust, but she missed the raucous friendship they used to have.

Declan was probably messing with her head. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

"Alex?" Camila called out.

The door slammed open and hit the wall hard enough to leave a dent. 

Alex ran in, gun raised, finger ready at the trigger. He stopped when he saw Camila resting calmly on the bed.

"Goddess," He cursed, shoving the gun into the holster and running a tired hand through his hair. "Sorry, I- Sorry. I'm a little on edge. Was there something you needed?"

"I can tell. Could you shut the door?"

Very, very gently, Alex closed the door.

Camila passed him her phone, still open to Declan's email. "Want to tell me about this?"

He held the phone delicately in his large hand. Alex was built like a tank, tall enough that Camila worried about his head whenever he walks through a doorway. She watched as he read the email, but his face, like always, was expressionless.

Finally, he asked, "Is Declan the prisoner?"

Camila nodded.

"Why is he emailing you?"

"What does he mean, that I should think about a different bodyguard? Should I be worried?"

With clinical precision, Alex set the phone on the bedside table. He sighed, glanced briefly at the door, then back towards her. Finally, he said, "Look. Your parents know. They would never let any harm come to you. I'm not a danger to you and the guy who sent you this email certainly is. I'd... really prefer to keep it to myself."

Deep down, Camila knew that, if Alex was being honest, his secret was none of her business. But the memory of the blind trust she'd given Declan and the kiss that, very quickly, turned nightmarish weighed heavy at the forefront of her mind. "Tell me." Camila crossed her arms over her chest. "Or I'll get a new guard."

"Fine." Alex lowered himself into the chair. He gripped the armrests violently, hard enough to wrench the fabric away, but his voice was calm. "I'm a vampire."

"What?"

"Yep. Raised here by two werewolves. Grew up keeping it a secret. Five years ago, your mother did a thorough background check on me and found out about it. I got shipped off to Canada to fight my relatives and ended up killing my biological parents, which your parents took to mean I'm really fucking committed to this pack and to your family." He took a deep breath. "Happy?"

Alex reminded Camila of a taut rubber band, ready to snap. His pale blue eyes look empty. Of course he looks empty, she thought to herself, he killed his parents. Out loud, she asked, "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Committed to this family?"

He was silent for a long time. Camila felt her heart pick up speed and she wondered if maybe he wouldn't answer at all.

His voice was soft, barely above a whisper, when he said it.

"I'm committed to you."

Alex stood. He nodded, awkwardly. Then he left, taking up his post outside the door. 

What's your favorite food? I'm currently craving chocolate, which is pretty much my normal state!

As always, thank you for reading!

-Harley