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From Camilla's View
I rolled over and gasped for air. My heart felt like it was trying to escape. The grass under me was cold and wet, and my hands grabbed at it. The air smelt like pine and dirt, and there was a thick fog around the trees. I was no longer in that awful fire. I was not on fire. But the memory of seeing flames on my skin, hearing screams, and seeing him walk away stuck with me like a bad dream that would not go away.
I am no longer Camilla. Not to them. It is a name I chose to hide who I am. It feels weird that my new face does not belong to me. I rubbed my lips, cheeks, and nose. Though they are not the same and are softer, my eyes are still mine. They are green and sharp, and they still hold all the pain from before.
I got up and brushed the dirt off of my clothes. As I walked towards the place I swore I would never go back, my boots dug into the muddy ground. The only sounds in the forest were the leaves rustling and the howl of a wolf far away. My old house. The pack. The place where they lied to me. Where the man I loved, Lucien, let them burn me alive.
When I thought about him, my chest got tight. I had to get even with him because of what he did. That is why I came back. To fix things. To make him feel the same pain I did. But my legs started to shake as I got closer to the pack's territory. What if he saw me? What if he still recognised me even though I had changed my face?
When the trees split, I could see the pack's land's wooden gates. Those old, wolf-head-shaped stones looked right at me like they knew my secret. Two guards stood there, the wind making their fur cloaks flap. One of them was tall, had a beard, and held a spear. The other was almost as young as a boy, and his eyes were darting around nervously.
The tall one asked in a rough voice, "Who are you?"
I took a deep breath and kept a straight face. "Hi, my name is Mira." "Just a tourist." "I need a place to rest."
The young guard gave me a strange look. "Where are you from?"
I pulled my cloak tighter and said, "Far away." "I have been walking for days." “Please, I just need a place to stay.”
The tall guard looked at me twice and then gave me a nod. "Okay. You do follow our rules, though. Not a problem.
My heart was racing as I nodded. They had no idea who I was. The woman they called cursed, Camilla, was not there. They burned the woman after tying her to a stake. My boots crunched on the gravel path as I slipped through the gates. The village spread out in front of me. There were wooden houses with smoke curling out of the chimneys, kids running through the dirt streets, and wolves lurking in the dark. It was different but the same. More sad. It seemed like everyone was hiding something because the air was heavy.
As I walked towards the middle of the village, I kept my head down. That is when I saw him. Lucien. He was next to the packhouse, which is a big wooden building with wide steps. His dark hair was all over the place and longer than I remembered. It fell over his eyes. He had his hands in his pockets and his shoulders slouched while he talked to a woman with grey hair. He looked... hurt. Alpha is not as strong as he used to be. Not the man who promised to love me forever and held my hand under the stars.
I could not breathe. I was ready to scream at him, run up to him, and ask why he let them hurt me. I hid behind a cart full of firewood and did not move. The wood broke under my nails as my fingers dug into it. It hurt that my heart still skipped a beat whenever I saw him. Though I did not want to hurt him, I did want to run to him and hold him.
The woman with grey hair rubbed his arm and then left. Lucien just stood there and looked at the ground. After that, he turned around and looked at me for a moment. I went cold. I could tell he was in a lot of pain because his eyes were so heavy. Did he understand? Could he tell it was me? Not at all. Not possible. My face looked different. My smell was different. But my heart was beating so fast that I thought he could hear it.
He turned his head away, rubbed his face, and went into the packhouse. I let out a breath that I had been holding. My hands were shaking. I had to keep my mind on it. Not to feel sorry for him, but to get back at him.
A little girl ran by me, and her braid moved. She stopped and turned her big brown eyes on me. Putting her head back, she asked, "You new?"
I forced a smile and said, "Yeah." My name is Mira.
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