Chapter 5 Whispers in the Night

Camilla's Point of View

My heart was beating so fast it hurt as I looked at the necklace shining in the dirt outside. It was the necklace Lucien gave me when we were happy and thought nothing could separate us. I thought the little wolf charm was calling me as it sparkled in the moonlight. But the person in the cloak who dropped it was gone, lost in the fog. I gripped the knife in my hand more tightly. Someone played with me and left hints about my past. I was not just Mira, someone knew.

My feet would not move, so I could not run outside and grab the necklace. What if it was a trick? Someone already wanted me to leave because of the wolf and the arrow last night. I leaned my face against the boarded-up window crack and peered through the fog. There was no movement. No shadows or eyes that glow. It was just the necklace, lying there like a heartfelt fragment.

I took a deep breath, unlocked the door, and got my knife ready. It was dark in the hallway, and the packhouse was quiet, except for the faint sound of a fire somewhere. I sneaked outside. The cold ground felt good under my boots. It felt like a cold hug when the fog wrapped around me. I got down on my knees next to the necklace and picked it up with a shaking hand. The wolf charm was cool, and its edges were worn from being held for years. When Lucien gave it to me, I could still feel his fingers on mine. His smile was still warm under the stars.

Behind me, a branch broke. I turned around with my knife drawn, but no one was there. There are only trees and fog. As my heart beat fast, I quickly put the necklace in my pocket and ran back to my room. Under my pillow, next to the knife, I locked the door and took a deep breath. It meant trouble, but I did not know who left it. Someone has seen me and knows too much about me.

It was grey and foggy when morning came. I barely slept, and getting dressed made my eyes hurt. The necklace stayed in my pocket, out of sight but heavy, as if it held all my old pain. My mind was racing as I went to the packhouse for breakfast. Who put it down? Who is Marta, with those sharp eyes? The guard who kept an eye on me, Torren? Or maybe someone else, someone who is hiding?

Elin was already sitting down at the table with her stuffed wolf by her side. She waved me over and said, "Mira!" "Again, you look tired." Shadow, did he help you dream?"

As I sat next to her, I forced a smile. I stroked her hair and said, "He helped a little." She gave me a piece of her bread and jam that were all over her plate. I took it, but I could not eat because my stomach hurt too much.

He sat at the head table with his eyes on his bowl and a pale face. He looked worse than the day before like he had a storm inside him. He owned the necklace, so I asked him about it and why someone would leave it for me. I tried but failed. I can not give myself away.

Marta came over with a pitcher of water in her hand. Her eyes locked on mine as she filled my cup. "Are you getting enough sleep, Mira?" she asked in a too calm voice.

I lied and tucked a calm necklace in my pocket with my fingers. "Yeah." "All right."

She smiled, but it did not reach her eyes as she nodded. She stopped, and as I watched her leave, my skin pricked up. Did she understand? Was she the one standing outside my window?

I walked around the village with my hood up after breakfast. A lot of things were going on: moving wood, fixing roofs, and feeding chickens. As I walked by the well, I saw the two women washing clothes again. They looked at me and whispered. When I heard the words "grave" and "Lucien" again, my chest got tight. To understand what they meant, I had to find that grave.

I went into the forest by following a path I knew from a long time ago. The pack buried their dead in a quiet place away from the village. The air was colder and there were more trees here. As I walked, my boots dug into the muddy ground, and the necklace in my pocket felt heavy. I had to see it even though I did not know what I would find.

The graveyard was small, and the stones had names and wolf prints carved into them. My heart was beating fast as I walked slowly and read each one. A small stone with my name on it, half-covered in moss, caught my eye. Camelia. There is no last name, only Camilla. It says "Beloved, Lost to Fire" below it. There was a dead flower on the ground. Its petals were grey and dry.

I fell to the ground with my fingers touching the stone as my knees gave out. It was true. They thought I was dead and buried here. But there was no body-just a sign that they went. I wiped my tears away because I was mad at myself for crying. I did not come here to feel sorry for myself; I came to get even.

I could hear footsteps behind me. I turned around and stood there with my hand on the knife in my sleeve. Frank was there. His eyes were wide as he stopped, like he did not expect to see her here. He asked, "Mira?" in a soft but confused voice. Ask yourself, "Why are you here?"

The cold made my heart race. My voice was shaking as I said, "I... heard about this place." "I had to see it."

He took a step towards the stone and looked at it. Feeling like he was in pain, his face turned funny. "This was a special person," he said in a whisper. "Someone I did not look out for."

It hurt my throat. I could have screamed that it was me and that I was standing here. I tried but failed. Not yet. I turned my head away and said, "I am sorry." "It must be painful."

He said "yes" and put his hands in his pockets. He said, "Every day." He got on his knees next to the rock and gently brushed the moss off with his fingers. "I come here at night." The talk got better. "That is all I remember of her."

My heart stopped. It was night when he came here. The women at the well were right. He did not forget about me. I did not like the thought; it hurt my chest. I chose not to feel this way. I did not care about it.

I turned away and said, "Let us go back." As I looked at my own grave and felt his pain mix with mine, I could not stay there.

The fog was thick around us as we walked back in silence. He stopped at the packhouse when we got to the village. He looked at my face and asked, "Are you okay, Mira?"

I lied and said, "Yeah." My hand touched the necklace in my pocket. "Just tired."

He said "yes," but his eyes kept on me, aYesf he knew I was lying. He told her, "Get some rest," and then he went inside.

I locked the door to my room when I got there. It felt like a heavy thing was in my pocket. I took it out and put it up to the light. The wolf charm moved and sparkled. Who took it? Why? I had to find answers, but every step I took felt like I was stepping into a trap.

I could not sleep that night. I sat on the bed with the necklace and the knife in each hand. Even though it was quiet in the packhouse, I could hear everything. Something outside made a noise that made me freeze. There were soft steps at my door. As I held the knife and waited, my heart was racing.

A small, folded piece of paper slid under the door. I crept over and grabbed it with shaking hands. As I unfolded it, my breath caught. Therwasre shakhandwritinggs that said, "I know handwriting Camilla." At midnight, meet me in the burned-out clearing. Come by yourself.