Chapter 86
Camila POV
I pinched the sides and pulled them together. Yeah–definitely looser than it used to be. Had I lost weight? I hadn’t really been eating much lately, not with all the emotional whiplash going on. But still.
“Great,” I sighed, peeling it off carefully so I wouldn’t ruin it. “Now I’m emotionally unstable and shrinking.”
Tossing the dress gently over the back of my chair, I grabbed my towel and headed into the bathroom. My skin felt sticky, like it had absorbed every bit of tension in the last twenty–four hours.
The hot water was heaven.
It poured over me like a blanket, steaming up the mirror and rinsing off the day. I stood under the spray for a long while, just letting it run down my shoulders, washing away the weirdness, The weddings. The werewolves. The bonds. The Ethan. The Liam. The Mysterious agencies and all the bullshit that was part of my life at that moment.
I didn’t sign up for any of it, and yet here I was, scrubbing conditioner through my hair like that would wash off everything I’d been dragged into.
After I finally felt somewhat human again, I shut the water off and reached for my towel. I dried myself slowly, the plush fabric soaking up the last remnants of the day. Finally properly dried off, I wrapped myself in another towel, rubbing lotion on my arms as I padded back into my
room.
I needed pajamas.
Something oversized. Preferably with sleeves long enough to hide inside and a neckline that didn’t remind me I had responsibilities.
I tugged open my wardrobe and started flipping through the hangers. T–shirts, hoodies, old dresses I hadn’t worn in forever…
And then I paused.
My fingers brushed against something stiff.
I pulled the shirt out and blinked. There was this… white crusty patch near the bottom hem. It was dry, flaky. Kinda reminded me of dried glue. I rubbed at it absentmindedly, thinking maybe it was just toothpaste or something. But it didn’t budge.
“What the hell?” I muttered, holding it up to the light.
Another shirt. Same thing.
I checked a pair of pajama shorts. Again.
The hell?
I started pulling more clothes out, tossing them on the bed one by one. A weird pattern was forming–and not the fun, aesthetic kind. It was all the same strange whitejsh, chalky–looking stain. Rough in texture. Faintly discolored. Like something had… soaked in and dried completly.
I stepped back and stared at the pile, heart thudding faster with every second.
It didn’t look like lotion. Didn’t feel like lotion. And unless all my clothes had collectively decided to develop eczema, this was getting very concerning.
I kept going through everything. Shirt after shirt. Bottoms. Even one of my long cardigans had something smeared inside the sleeve.
Chapter 86
And then I noticed something else,
One of my favorite pajama sets the silky one I never let anyone touch?
Was gone..
Like… not just misplaced. Gone.
Not in the laundry basket. Not folded somewhere else. Not under the bed.
“Fuck,” I hissed, slamming the wardrobe doors shut.
With a groan, I turned around and stared at the pile of clothes on
my bed.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut: I had nothing clean to wear.
My mind raced, considering my options. Aunt Anya’s place was too far, and I couldn’t exactly stroll through the mansion in a towel. The thought of asking my mother crossed my mind, but as I stepped down the stairs and into the hallway, a sound stopped me
in
my tracks.
A soft moan.
I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. The sound came again, unmistakably from my mother’s room. Heat rushed to my cheeks as I realized what I was hearing.
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