Camilla stood frozen. Her shoulders trembled just a little.
She was always good at hiding what she felt. She wore a mask for every room. Not today. Today her mask was slipping. Badly.
I could not blame her.
Most wolves only guessed I had died. But Camilla knew. She had seen my body. She had taken the picture of me cold, bruised, motionless. She had proof.
Now she stood before me in a red coat. She looked at me like she had seen a ghost. The calm on her face felt thin.
I was not calm either. Inside, my wolf was a storm. Old memories burned hot. The salt of grief, the iron of rage.
For a month I watched from the edge of life. I floated between two worlds. I saw things no wolf should see. But nothing made my blood boil like Camilla.
The moment she raised her hand against my grandmother when she struck a matriarch that was the day justice slipped. I stopped wanting justice. I wanted revenge. Pure. Sharp. Personal.
If a ghost could not tear her down, flesh and bone would. I would make her fall with my own paws.
She was human enough to break. I looked at her neck. I wondered how easy it would be to snap it. I watched her hands tremble the same hands that had held a blade over my elder. The image made my fingers itch to crush them. I could see her lying, shaping pity with those lips. What would I do to that mouth? Nothing would be enough.
Still, a bright thrill climbed my ribs. This was the first move. The path had started.
I smoothed my face and smiled. The smile was pretty and cold. I let it shine like moonlight. "You must be Julian's mate," I said sweetly. "Elena, right? I have heard sweet things about you two. Childhood mates. Love that lasts. That kind of loyalty is rare. Julian must be a true wolf to stay so long."
My voice was warm. My words were sharp as teeth.
Camilla's stunned look blinked. Julian's face turned dark.
Vicky moved fast, all fluster and false calm. "You have the wrong idea, dear. This is not Elena. This is Camilla Morrigan. I told you about her. They are not bonded just kin."
I tilted my head like I did not know. "Oh?" I sounded surprised. "I just thought she stood so close to Julian. They looked like mates. But Camilla is your daughter, yes? I thought she was from the Morrigan pack."
Vicky's smile stiffened. "That is… complicated. She was separated when she was young. I took her in."
I nodded slow, like I believed it. "So not blood. Not really family."
"Of course not," Vicky snapped, small now.
I let my smile grow softer. "Then it would not be wrong if they were together, would it?"
That was all it took.
Julian's face burned. He snapped, sharp as a snapped bone. "Enough! Don't speak nonsense. You belong to this pack now, Riley. Things you say reflect on all of us."
I gave him a sweet, sorry look. "Oh no, I did not mean to offend. I did not know. I am sorry if I was wrong."
Inside, I smiled to myself.
Now he cared for the pack's name? Now he worried about honor?
Did he care when he and Camilla slipped around like pups? When they tore at the pack with lies? He did not care when I lay dying alone. He did not lift a paw. Now suddenly he was proper and proud. Pathetic.
I kept my face soft. I used the gentle eyes I had practiced. I looked like the woman he once loved. The line between me and Elena had blurred. The red mole on my brow was the only small mark that might give me away. Even that hardly hid the truth in my face.
Julian stared at me. His mouth hung open, like he was searching for a word that had been buried.
"El… Elena…?" he breathed. The name fell before he could stop it.
I only smiled.
Camilla blinked and came back to herself. She stared at me hard. Her eyes were cold and quick, like a snake waiting in the brush. I felt a chill in my bones.
She tried to hide it fast, but I saw the flicker of hate before she smoothed her face into a smile. It did not reach her eyes.
"Forgive me, Aunt Riley," she said, voice sweet but shaking a little. "You just look so much like my sister. I was surprised."
She bent down, picked up the bag she dropped, and handed it to me with a perfect smile. "It's good to meet you. This is a small gift. Please take it."
The act was clean. Anyone watching would think she was kind. But I knew what lay under that mask. I knew the woman who once raised her hand to my grandmother. I knew the blade, the picture, the lie.
Oh, Camilla. We have only begun.
Everything you did to my grandmother… to me… to my lost pup… I will make you pay. I did not want small justice. I wanted it raw and full. I wanted to break her the way she broke us.
I took the gift and smiled. My smile was warm. It hid teeth.
"Really? You think I look like your sister?" I said. "How sweet. I came in a rush today and I have nothing for you. I hope you do not mind."
"Of course not," she said quickly, voice still honey. "We are family now. No need."
I took her hand gently. I played the bright new mate. "I've just returned to the pack. I do not know many wolves. Camilla, I will count on you to show me the way."
Julian watched us the whole time. He did not take his eyes off me. I could see him thinking. Confusion moved across his face like a shadow.
This body I wore now was young. Twenty winters old. Younger than Camilla by a few years. Fresh fur and quick steps. I felt full of heat and light. I could see the realization on Julian's face like dawn breaking.
I remembered a small thing that made bile rise. Last year, I had heard Camilla cling to Julian, voice soft and greedy. "Elena is almost thirty," she had whined. "She is so serious. She reads numbers and speaks of work. She is dull. You are fun."
Julian had laughed then, tapping her nose. "You make me feel young," he had said.
What a lie. While I stayed up, building his plans and making the pack's future, they whispered and laughed. He took my work and wore my name. He left me to die.
Now I am young again. I am warm and bright. I wonder how that sits in him.
Camilla kept her false smile. "I'll show you around," she said. "If you like chatter, I'll talk your ear off."
I nodded, sweet and polite. "That would be nice. By the way have you heard of Lafayette Villa?"
Her smile slipped for a breath. I saw it. A small break. "Yes," she said carefully. "That was meant to be Julian's den."
I clapped like a child. "How perfect!"
She lifted her head, curious. "Why do you ask?"
"Father asked where Lewis and I might live after the bond," I said. "I saw Lafayette Villa and thought it pretty. Since Julian helped design it, maybe he can show me ideas. It would be helpful for Lewis and me."
Julian did not answer. I saw the tug in him. He did not want to say yes. That villa held their nights. It held their secrets. He knew that.
I stepped closer and smiled soft. "I'm hopeless with decor. You always had good taste, Julian. Please show me? Just the layout. It would mean a lot."
He stayed quiet. His silence said more than words.
Now it is only a matter of time.