“Whoa, whoa. What is goin’ on?” Viktor’s sleep-roughened voice came from behind her. “Johnnie? Why are the cubs upset?”
Camille turned a panic look on her consort and gestured helplessly to the shaken teenager and wailing toddlers. “I thought— I didn’t know who they were and I… scared them.”
Gods, she felt like a monster, too.
She’d gone out of her way to make sure she didn’t appear threatening to the children she met, and then she went and undid all of that by scaring the daylights out of the trio in her living room.
“Ah, shit. I forgot that it was Cherry’s day with the elders. I should have warned you they’d be coming over.” Viktor was shirtless and tousled, but his eyes were keen when he strode across the room to swing both toddlers into his arms. “Shh. You’re okay. I know you were surprised, but Cam didn’t mean anything by it.”
“No, I didn’t. I—”
The toddlers, who had begun to calm down some, wailed again. Johnnie looked abashed and Viktor wore a pinched, resigned expression as he attempted to soothe the children clinging to his bare shoulders.
Camille shrank back into the hallway. Speaking low and fast, she said, “I’ll just— I’ll just go into the bedroom. Sorry.”
Viktor made a soft sound in the back of his throat. “Cam, it’s okay, just—”
She didn’t listen. Camille hurried back down the hall and dashed into the bedroom. Standing in the center of the room, she clenched her hands into fists and fought the wobbling of her chin.
I scared them so much they can’t even look at me, she thought, agonized by guilt. She wanted to fit in so badly. It cut her to the quick to know she blundered so terribly. What would the pack think of her now? Would Johnnie run off to tell his mother that she bared her fangs at the children? Would they accuse her of threatening their young?
Feeling sick, Camille looked for something to do to calm herself down. There was no way she was stepping outside of the bedroom until after the children left. She’d rather sequester herself all day than have them look at her like she planned to eat them one more time.
She decided on a shower. There was little else to do, and it only made her feel worse to stand there and hear the muted sounds of Viktor attempting to soothe the children across the house.
Grabbing her clothing, she fled into the bathroom and locked the door. Maybe after she got ready, she could sneak out the bedroom window? It wasn’t dignified, but leaving the house while Viktor took care of the children sounded like a better plan than waiting around. Eventually he would try to coax her out. Best that she removed herself from the situation entirely.
Camille showered and dressed quickly. When she ducked her head out of the bathroom, she was relieved to hear that the muffled crying had stopped. It sounded like they were on the other side of the house — probably the kitchen.
Good, she thought, insides twisting with guilt. Viktor was probably making them breakfast. She would have loved to be a part of that, but she knew that her presence would only upset them more. Best that I retreat for now.
Maybe it was running away, but she couldn’t feel too bad about it. There was a unique kind of hurt that came with the knowledge that a child thought you meant them harm. It grated against something foundational in her to think that she’d terrified them so badly.
Would they always look at her like that? Would she slip up again with others? Gods, she hoped not.
Feeling hopelessly out of place, Camille grabbed her shoes with one hand and padded over to the large window that overlooked their wild backyard. It wouldn’t be hard to pop out the screen and slip out. She could text Viktor as soon as she left the territory and ask him to let her know when the children had gone.
In the meantime, she could take the m-lev downtown and maybe meet Linnea for lunch. Perhaps she’d have some tips on how to reverse the damage she’d done to the poor babies.
Camille paused, reconsidering that plan. The last time she visited her friend and came back to the pack’s territory, Benny wouldn’t stop asking where she got “that great new perfume”. Seeing as Camille was relatively certain he was picking up on her friend’s natural vanilla and spice scent, she stalwartly refused to tell him. There was no way she was sending someone like Benny sniffing around her sweet, naive friend.
But he was a shifter, so of course he pressed. They did love a game, after all. Too bad she was more stubborn than he was. He annoyed her so much that she ended up pushing him off the tiny dock by their house and into the lake. That ended the conversation well enough.
Maybe I’ll see if Margot has time for lunch instead.
She was prying open the window when the sound of the bedroom door opening made her jump.
“What are you doing?”
Camille snapped her head towards the door, her eyes wide. “Ah…”
Viktor stood in the doorway. His arms were crossed, his feet spread, and his eyes narrowed on her frozen form. “Do not tell me you were trying to sneak out of our den, Cam.”
She glanced at the shoes dangling from her hand. “...Okay, I won’t.”
He followed her gaze. A look of intense exasperation crossed his expressive face when he exclaimed, “For fuck’s sake, sweetheart, everyone startles cubs sometimes. They’re fine.”
Camille fidgeted with her shoes and refused to meet his gaze. “You didn’t see the way they looked at me when I…” She swallowed hard. “They think I’m a monster, Vik.”
His footsteps were little more than whispers over the bamboo floor. Warm hands skated down her upper arms. “They don’t think you’re a monster, Cam, I promise. Come have breakfast with us. I promise that if you give them ten minutes, they’ll be crawling all over you like a jungle gym.”
She shot a look at the window. “Or I could leave for the morning and—”
“Nope. You’re helping us make pancakes.” Viktor plucked her heels out of her hands and tossed them onto the floor. Ignoring her squawk of outrage, he grabbed her by the shoulders, spun her around, and began marching her toward the kitchen.
Speaking under her breath, she protested, “I don’t even eat pancakes! And if they’re uncomfortable, they won’t either! Hey! Do not push me, mutt!”
“You can have your own breakfast, but you will help me make pancakes,” he commanded, steering her down the hall and into the open living area. “Pack doesn’t run when they make a mistake. Pack stays to fix it, Cam. That’s how we build trust.”
“Easy for you to say! You grew up in a pack, remember? They trust you automatically. They looked like they were afraid I’d suck the marrow out of their bones.”
“And you’re a part of this pack now. You have to learn how to handle these things. I’m not going to let this shake your confidence.” He paused to chuckle. “That’s a good threat, though. Maybe we should use it when they misbehave?”
Camille seethed. “Don’t you dare.”
Laughing, he gave her shoulders a squeeze and steered her out of the hallway. The kitchen was to their right. Camille dug in her bare heels, but Viktor kept pushing her until they stood by the corner of the kitchen island.
The children were sitting on the floor by the kitchen table, two synthetic bowls of apple slices and sippy cups of what looked like water within reaching distance. At some point since she saw them last, Thomas had shifted and Fiona had lost her jaunty headband and her sandals. Johnnie was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he had run off to school.