Camila jogged down the hallway, head down. Her hair had been carefully arranged to conceal the newly-formed mark on her neck. She'd stuck two band-aids on top of it and draped a blanket over her shoulders like a cloak.

If anyone asked, she could always say she was cold.

She passed a window looking out over Manaus. The buildings arched their metal backs, stabbing up at the sky above. Behind them, Camila caught a glimpse of the rich blue water of the Amazon river. It stretched its waters like an ocean and she could only catch a faint glimpse of blurry green land on the other side.

She reached room 703. The hallway was empty, desolate. It was before seven in the morning and they were set to leave at noon. Camila imagined the Vindicators were squeezing in a few extra hours of sleep or savoring their last bit of solitude.

Before she could knock, the door swung open.

Zora blinked, scowled, and started to close the door in her face.

"Wait!" Her voice was too loud. Camila's eyes darted around, but she didn't see anyone. "Wait. Zora, I need help."

"It is six am and you're awake. Yes, you do need help."

"Please. Let me come inside and I'll explain."

The witch sighed. She wore a pair of athletic shorts and a rumpled T-shirt. Her bronze hair was frazzled, with one tuft sticking straight up into the air like a unicorn's horn, and every time she blinked, her eyes stayed closed just a split second longer than they should.

"Fine," Zora growled. "You're making me breakfast."

Camila winced, remembering the brigadeiros she and Alex had attempted to make. If it weren't for Alex's steadfast determination to succeed, she doubted the brigadeiros would've been safe to eat. "Maybe I can watch Game of Thrones with you instead?"

"I don't want to watch Game of Thrones at fucking six am. I want to sleep."

"I'm sorry. I swear this is important."

When Zora didn't argue, Camila stepped inside. She found a French press coffee maker in the kitchen and, flashing Zora an apologetic smile, brewed a pot of coffee.

"You know Alex?" Camila asked.

"Coffee first. Talk second." Zora flopped down on the bed. She didn't get back up until Camila had poured a cup of black coffee and brought it over to her.

Zora took a sip and scowled. "You didn't let it brew long enough."

"I'll brew you another pot if you want, but first, I need your help."

"Fine. Get on with it. Tell me this problem that couldn't have waited another hour."

Camila set the blanket down. She peeled the band-aids off, one by one, their sticky residue clinging to her skin.

Zora groaned and buried her face in her hands. "Did you seriously wake me up to tell me you and Declan did the deed?"

"Yeah, that's the thing," Camila sighed. "The mark's not Declan's."

Zora's head snapped up. "Excuse me?"

"It's not Declan's."

"Well. Fuck." Zora groaned. She winced, screwing her face up like she'd just eaten something sour. "Are you trying to break this alliance or just idiotic?"

"In my defense, it was an accident."

Zora sighed and took a sip of her coffee. "I assume it's that fellow Alex? Unless you've got another beau hiding around the corner?"

"Actually, it's Finn's."

"What?!"

Camila rolled her eyes. "Of course it's Alex. He's a vampire. I'm a werewolf. A mating mark shouldn't have been possible. And I was just so worried and I wasn't thinking straight..."

Camila wanted to trust Declan. She wanted to believe that he was set on doing better and she wanted to believe that their alliance wouldn't fall to pieces because she accidentally ended up with a mating mark. But it had been—she frowned, searching her memory—only a day since he had beaten Alex within an inch of his life.

And that was because he was angry and he didn't like the way she and Alex talked to each other. What would he do if he found out about the mark?

"Okay, Cami. I suppose I can give you a hand."

Camila frowned. "I thought you worked for Declan?"

"Please tell me that was a joke. I work for an ideal. For a future." Zora sighed. "Although yeah, that generally means following Declan's orders."

"Thank you."

Zora shrugged and waved her hand like it barely mattered. "Don't worry about it. So, tell me about this Alex fellow. Are you two a thing?" A tall mahogany wardrobe sat across from the bed, so tall that it brushed the ceiling. Zora pulled open a small cupboard at the base and removed five delicate glass vials.

Camila laughed. "No! Of course not. That'd be ridiculous. He's just a friend who's known me my whole life and is always there for me when I'm down and he says the nicest things and- Oh fuck."

"What?"

"I mean it's just-" She dug her fingers into her hair, thinking. "I used to be obsessed with him. Like, when I was younger, thirteen I think, I found out that he could only train at five in the morning. I woke up at four thirty every day for a year so we could train together. I even asked him to the Winter Ball."

"Did he say yes?" Zora set a clay mixing bowl on her lap. She poured one vial after another into the bowl. Camila caught a glimpse of a metallic dust—gold, she guessed, although it could've been bronze—a pasty green mush, and what looked suspiciously like an eyeball.

She decided not to look.

"Well?" Zora snapped. "Did Alex say yes? You're leaving me hanging here."

Camila blushed. Even six years later, she still remembered the brash confidence of her younger self and her utter certainty that she and Alex were meant to be. When she asked him to the ball, she'd worn her best dress and done her own makeup: smearing her eyeliner and putting on three too many layers of foundation. Alex had gently informed her that he was going with Ana, a pretty girl who worked in the kitchens. He'd hugged her, reassured her that she was still very important to him, and said something along the lines of: "you're like a sister to me."

She sighed, laughing a little at her younger self. "Well, he was seventeen at the time, so it was a hard no. My mother made me go to the dance anyway, and, when this noble boy from the north started flirting with me, I screamed something about how he wasn't my mate and stormed out."

Zora dabbed something cold and moist onto Camila's neck. Camila made the mistake of inhaling and caught the scent of something that reminded her faintly of roadkill.

"You know he's in love with you, right?"

"Alex? You're joking."

Zora's slate grey eyes bore into her skull. "The guy's in love with you. He's here, despite the fact that Declan's probably going to kill him, so he can protect you. He literally told you, and I quote," She lowered her voice in a surprisingly good imitation of Alex's smooth baritone. "I can't lose you Camila. You're the best thing in my life."

Camila frowned. "How do know that?"

"I eavesdropped a bit before busting in. And let's not forget the way he looks at you. It's like you're..." She waved her hand over Camila's shoulder. "It's like you're a cup of coffee and he's tired. Or you're water and he's dying of thirst. Or-"

"Zora. You're insane."

"Only clinically. I'm still right though." Zora shrugged. "Anyhow. The mark is invisible now. You're welcome. Plus, I did some fancy magic stuff so no one should be able to detect the change in your scent."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, I know. I'm fantastic." Zora looked down at her bare feet. The tips of her ears were cherry red and Camila wondered how often the Vindicators thanked her. She wondered what kind of life Zora had lived.

She couldn't imagine it had been an easy one.

"Want me to make you another cup of coffee?" She offered. "I'll brew it properly this time."

She did. Zora approved.

This is definitely a filler, but it was kind of fun to write at the same time! Thank you for reading!

Do you trust Zora's magic skills? What's your favorite coffee (or tea) drink? Is Alex in love with her?

-Harley