Page 27 of In the Shadows

“So you’re saying if Davenport wasn’t after her territory that you would hand her over because it would no longer benefit us?” I snap. I wish I could say I can’t believe what I’m hearing, but that would be a lie. I’ve watched my father drag us out of the gutter, pull us up through the ranks, and get us to the highest position we could possibly be without being actual royalty. There’s nothing he won’t do to come out on top.

He pauses, and his intense gaze settles on me. The mismatched blue and green is overwhelming sometimes, so intense that most people can’t stare him in the eye for long, but I’m immune to it. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I can’t say what I would do in that instance because I…I see what you and Kovu see in her. I see it, and it interests me in a way no one has in a long time.”

“The three of you have lost your fucking minds,” Kaos groans. “Even if having her here wasn’t a huge issue because of Charles, there’s the little fact that she’s eighteen and inexperienced. What makes you think she’s going to want the four of us? Don’t you think she would find the things we like disgusting and depraved? We haven’t given her all the facts, and allowing her to stay here and giving her the false hope that we have tonight is cruel, even for us.”

I stare at him for long moments because I can’t believe those words have come out of his mouth. Out of the four of us, he’s the most cruel. He never used to be. In fact, before we rose through the ranks, he was arguably the kindest of us, but she changed him. Her betrayal destroyed us in many ways, but none more than it did Kaos, and I’ve often wondered if we’ll ever see the kinder side of him again. But his soft spot for Camilla, whether he’s aware of it or not, is the first sign of the old Kaos we’ve seen.

“Just because she’s inexperienced doesn’t mean she won’t like what we do to her,” I say, but I hear how stupid I sound. It’s wishful thinking. The things we like are…dark, and everything I know about Camilla De Marco is light.

Maybe he’s right. Maybe tainting her with our darkness is sick and twisted. But maybe I just don’t care. My need for her is strong, and perhaps I’m just selfish enough to break her so we can build her back up to the perfect woman for us to share.

“The plan hasn’t changed,” Crew says. “She will remain here until she has healed. In that time, you may see if she would fit with us on a long-term basis. If she does, we will make an arrangement that is mutually beneficial for everyone involved. If not, we will set her up as head of the De Marco family, and we will leave her be just the same way we do all the other families. Either way, Camilla will be given her freedom once that cast comes off her arm.”

“But what if—” Kovu starts, but my father cuts him off.

“If it’s the latter option and Charles comes for her, there will be nothing we can do to save her. You are not to speak to her about these options. If we’re ever going to include another person in this family, we need to ensure they are a good fit, and that means her not having any inside influence. If Camilla is to become our queen, she needs to prove that she can hack it.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

CAMILLA

When Bishop and Kovu walk into the room after their chat with Crew, there’s a tension in the air I haven’t experienced with them before. We don’t spend much time talking normally, but we’ve come to live in a comfortable silence, and when we do speak, it’s natural.

But the way the two of them watch me with keen interest has me on edge. Kovu’s sitting beside me on the bed as he does so often, his body spread out and his thigh resting against mine. His warmth is almost overwhelming even through his jeans, but I try to keep my focus on the television in front of me.

Bishop’s sitting in the chair on my other side. His fingers tap against the armrests in a rhythmic motion that is as annoying as it is entrancing. The tension in his jaw seems to grow with each minute that passes, and the more time I spend sitting between the two of them, the more on edge I feel.

“What happened when you made me come back in here?” I finally ask when I can’t take the silence any longer. I’ve spent my entire life being underestimated by everyone except my father, and right now, that’s the last thing I need. They’ve just dropped a bomb on me. The knowledge that as soon as I’m well enough to protect myself, I’ll be sent back to lead my family legacy, and the men I’ve started to grow attached to will become the people who keep myself and my organization in line. I’m trying to tell myself that’s not what has me upset, that the idea of taking my father’s place and being at the mercy of his enemies is what’s weighing on me, but that’s just not the case. I’m upset that at some stage in the not-too-distant future, I won’t be spending the night with Kovu’s warm body beside me and without Bishop’s fingers brushing through my hair when he thinks I’m asleep. I’m getting attached, and even if I know how dangerous that is, I can’t stop myself.

“It doesn’t matter,” Bishop grinds out.

“Then why does your jaw look like it’s about to snap?” I challenge, crossing my arms across my chest defiantly.

His head snaps around to face me, and the heat in his eyes makes my stomach flutter with need. How does he do that? How does he set my body alight with just one look? “I’d watch that pretty mouth if I were you, love. You don’t know how much trouble it can get you in.”

“Don’t I?”

A chuckle beside me drags my attention away from Bishop, and I meet Kovu’s amused gaze. “You’re poking the bear, Little Lamb.”

“So? I don’t need you to walk on eggshells around me. If I’m going to lead the De Marco family, you’d hope my skin is thick enough to deal with you two assholes,” I snap. I shouldn’t goad them, but I’m doing it anyway, and the excitement that flares to life in my chest is foreign. My life has always been monotonous. Sure, it’s been a life of extravagance and glamour, but once you’ve lived a year of parties and social events, every year that comes afterward is more boring than the last.

Bishop stands slowly, his eyes dark with a mixture of emotions I can’t quite put my finger on, and I can’t help but press my legs together to relieve the ache in my core. No man has ever made me feel so much with so little, but I’m in no position to question my body’s reactions. “Come again, love?” He steps toward the edge of the bed, and it takes all I have not to recoil.

“You heard me.” I shrug. “If Crew thinks I should replace my dad, then he, and presumably you, think I’m strong, or at least that I can pretend to be, so why do you continue to treat me like I’m made of glass?”

He chuckles as he leans down, bringing his face down to my level until I’m staring into his green eyes. He’s never been this close to me, not even when he’s carried me to and from the bathroom. He always keeps distance between our faces as if he’s not sure he can control himself around me. “You’re not ready for the answer to that, love.”

The nickname I would normally find condescending, heats me from the inside out. How can this ruthless man, the one who shows the world his iron poker face, look at me with his emotions shining as clear as day?

I curse my hopeful heart because things with these men will never be what I crave, what I’ve never dared to let myself want as I was trained to be queen. I thought I’d be married off to a man who would stand strong at my side, and not one I chose for myself. Sure, I figured we might eventually develop feelings for one another, but realistically, he would be a public show of strength and someone to knock me up so I could produce heirs to eventually take my place when I inevitably met my maker.

But I never thought I’d have the chance to genuinely like someone. To have feelings beyond those of obligation.

“What makes you think you have a say over what I’m ready for?” I challenge, leaning forward until Bishop’s breath whispers across my cheeks, and his whiskey and cinnamon scent envelops me. It should be a sin for a man to smell like this. “Haven’t men made enough decisions on my behalf recently? When do I get to start making decisions about my own life?”

His eyes burn into mine, like he’s trying to read my mind, trying to work out how far he can push me after I’ve been through so much. It’s fair, I suppose. I have been through a lot in the last week, and my body is all the evidence he needs for that. I haven’t given myself the chance to feel through my emotions about the fact my father is dead. The only parent I had left. The man who taught me to be the queen I was always meant to be. But those emotions will come.

I guess I got good at pushing uncomfortable emotions down after my mother died. It wasn’t long after she took her final breath that Dad started preparing me for my role. It’s like her death made him realize how fragile life is and that he needed to have a plan in place, even if I was eight at the time.

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