FORTY FOUR

DIMITRI'S POV

Why was it so hard to be mad at her now that I was in front of her?

She looked... Beautiful. It was the first time I had seen her without her mask. Whatever doubt I carried about Cameryn ever being Camille was gone. Cameryn was Camille. Both women were one and the same. She looked just like she had done the first time I set my eyes on her in the councilroom.

But there was something else. It wasn't the madness pumping in my blood or the animal inside pleading to be set free. She had changed. She had grace.

I watched her eyes widen as I asked the question I still couldn't wrap my head around. "...how are your kids mine?"

We stood dangerously close. Skin touching and eyes pinned on one another—a bad idea. But I couldn't help myself.

"What are you going about?" She finally broke the silence. "My kids aren't yours."

"You're lying," I told her. I didn't need to listen to her heart to know she was. Her silence hadn't even been the admission of guilt. It was her eyes.

She pul