Chapter 113: Rivals Gift

Camilla handed over the necklace like it burned her skin.Her fingers lingered on the box for a second too long, knuckles white, jaw tight. The smile she forced onto her face didn’t reach her eyes. Every stiff movement screamed what she refused to say out loud.

Normally, I wouldn’t take something that belonged to someone else. Especially not something so small. Jewelry meant nothing to me.

But after everything she had done after the long, restless night she had dragged me through I didn’t stop the small smile that curved my lips as I accepted it from her.

"Thanks for the gift," I said lightly.

"You’re welcome," she replied, teeth clenched so hard it was almost painful to watch.

Her anger rolled off her in heavy waves. Sharp. Bitter. It crawled under my skin, stirring something deep and restless inside me. And instead of backing away from it, I welcomed it.

Lewis’s presence at my side was steady and warm. Quiet, but solid. With the necklace secured in my hand, we turned and walked out of the store.

As soon as we were a few steps away, he glanced at me, eyes soft but knowing. "Feeling better now?" he asked, a teasing edge in his voice.

I exhaled, a real laugh slipping out. "Much better."

He smiled. "Then why stop here? Let’s keep going. Who knows? You might feel even lighter."

I gave him a sideways look. "Don’t you have pack matters waiting? End-of-year meetings. People expecting you to be everywhere at once."

He shook his head easily, like none of it mattered. "There’s nothing more important than being with my mate."

My heart skipped. Heat rushed to my face before I could stop it. I looked away quickly, pretending to examine a shop window, then slipped into the nearest women’s boutique to hide my reaction.

Inside, the air felt calmer. Softer. I drifted between racks of dresses, brushing fabric between my fingers. I picked out a few simple, clean lines, nothing flashy. Holding them up, I turned to Lewis. "Which one?"

He leaned back slightly, studying them with quiet focus. "Honestly? You’d look good in all of them. But don’t rush it. Try them on. Let’s find the one that feels right."

And it made something in my chest loosen.

This felt nothing like my old life. No rushing through crowds in painful shoes. No phone buzzing nonstop. No being ignored by someone who’d already given his attention elsewhere.

I was just here. Present. Choosing clothes for myself while a man who truly saw me waited nearby.

I headed into the fitting room with a few dresses. One slipped on easily. Another hugged my waist just right. The last had a tiny zipper running down the back, stubborn and hard to reach.

After fumbling with it for a moment, I leaned out slightly. "Excuse me," I called. "Could someone help with the zipper?"

I turned back toward the mirror, facing the wall, my back exposed.

A hand touched the small of my back.

Cold.

Wrong.

"Thanks," I murmured without looking.

The zipper slid up smoothly.

Then a voice cut through the quiet.

"No need to thank me."

My blood went cold.

That voice wasn’t sweet. It wasn’t polite. It was low and sharp, stripped of its mask.

I spun around

Too late.

Camilla grabbed my wrist, twisted my arm behind me, and slammed me against the wall. The door rattled softly as it shut behind her. No staff. No witnesses.

Up close, the polished version of her disappeared. Her breath was hot against my ear, her grip tight and angry.

"Riley," she hissed. "You really think you’ve won? Walking around with his name like it belongs to you. What else do you want from me?"

Her voice shook, raw and ugly. This was her truth with nothing holding it back.

I clenched my jaw, heart pounding not with fear, but with something sharper.

"You lost everything the moment you decided to play dirty," I said quietly. "You destroyed yourself the moment you decided rules didn’t apply to you. If you didn’t want your secrets dragged into the light, you shouldn’t have buried them so deep."

She let out a sharp laugh. "What secrets?" she snapped. "Don’t play games with me."

But her eyes betrayed her.

Just for a second, something flickered there. A crack. A rush of fear she couldn’t hide fast enough. I felt it roll off her, thin and sour, and my instincts reacted before my mind caught up.

I twisted out of her grip.

The movement was fast, smooth, driven by something deeper than thought. In one motion, I spun us around and slammed her back into the wall, my hand closing around her throat. Not tight enough to choke just enough to remind her who stood in front of her.

"You know exactly what happened to Elena," I said, my voice low and even.

Her eyes went wide.

Not surprise. Terror.

"E-even the police couldn’t find anything," she stammered. "You’re imagining things. Her death was an accident. Bad luck."

A bitter laugh tore from my chest. "Accidents don’t follow patterns. They don’t leave shadows. Someone planned it. And you were there."

Her jaw hardened. "Why do you care so much?" she spat. "Elena meant nothing to you."

Something snapped.

"She means everything to me," I said, the words ripping out before I could soften them.

Camilla shoved my hand away and stumbled back, breathing hard. "Drop this," she warned. "Before you dig your own grave. Some things are better left buried."

I took a step toward her, eyes locked on hers. "Are you threatening me?"

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.

Then everything happened at once.

Camilla’s hand disappeared into her coat and came back with a knife. She moved fast too fast. She yanked my arm behind my back, pain shooting through my shoulder as the cold edge of the blade pressed against my neck, right where my pulse throbbed.

My breath hitched.

Her voice dropped to a whisper, calm and deadly. "You’re stepping into things you don’t understand, Riley. I didn’t come here to fight. I came to warn you."

Her breath brushed my ear. The blade barely pressed, but it didn’t need to. The threat was clear.

"Walk away," she said softly. "Stay out of my path, and I’ll stay out of yours. But if you keep digging... if you keep showing up where you’re not wanted "

I cut her off, forcing my voice to stay steady despite the fear crawling up my spine. "What will you do?"

She didn’t blink.

Her eyes locked onto mine, dark and burning.

"You’ll end up just like Elena," she whispered.

The words slammed into me, heavy and brutal, knocking the air from my lungs.

And in that moment, I knew.

This wasn’t a warning.

It was a promise.