Page 75 of From the Ashes

Blood pours from the wound as she falls to the ground, her vacant eyes wide as she holds her throat, but it’s useless.

She gasps for air, but it doesn’t matter how hard she tries, she can’t get a breath in, and I find a smile creeping onto my lips as I watch her struggle.

After all these years, after all the pain, watching her die is validating.

A heavy weight slams into my side, and the knife drops from my hand before I can right myself. Blood pours from Dad’s chest, but the anger in his eyes is just as vibrant as it was when he came into the room, if not more so.

“You little cunt!” he screams as he dives for the knife at the same time I do, but his blood loss is making him sluggish, so I get there first.

The handle feels at home in my hand a moment before he knocks me on my ass, but I keep the blade in front of me, and when he comes down on top of me, intent on hurting me, he impales himself on the blade, but I refuse to allow myself to believe it’s over so easily.

I shove his heavy weight off me, and he falls to the hard linoleum without any resistance.

Without hesitation, I climb on top of him and drive the knife into his chest again.

“You can’t hurt me anymore!” I shout as I tug the blade free and bury it deep again.

Over and over, I slam the knife into his chest, his neck, his stomach.

“Never again!”

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

CAMILLA

Despite how tired I was, I struggled to shut my eyes.

The bodies wrapped around mine did little to settle the anxiety rolling through my body, because while we won tonight, we might not be so lucky next time.

Crew slipped out of the room a little over an hour ago when he thought I was asleep, and I didn’t bother asking him to stay. He’s dealing with his own shit, and I can’t be selfish just because I almost lost them all tonight.

Kovu has slept fitfully since his head hit the pillow, and it’s so different from how he normally wraps himself around me like a boa constrictor around its next meal. Tonight was hard on all of us, but none more so than Kovu. I’m just glad I could end that asshole for him. I only wish he felt more pain. I wish he felt the same anguish Kovu has had to live with all these years.

He mumbles something, and his head whips to the side.

Bishop and Kaos are fast asleep on the opposite side of me, both on their backs, snoring with their arms thrown over their heads. We don’t fit in this bed in any way, but we’re making it work for tonight.

Maybe once all this is over, we can find a better solution.

I sigh, and my eyes drift closed. If I can’t fall asleep soon, I’m just going to get up. I need to check in with Luca and make sure everything was taken care of at the cemetery. I also want to ask Wyatt if he had any luck tracking the SUV Caleb and his men escaped in.

“You can’t hurt me anymore!” Kovu shouts, and my heart clenches for him. God, I would hate to think what he’s dreaming about, but there are just some things I can’t fix.

I’m about to roll to my side to coax him awake and reassure him when his eyes fly open. But the wild blue that stares back at me is different than normal.

Where Kovu usually looks at me like I’m the most precious thing in his world, right now he’s staring at me like he wants me dead.

Before I can take my next breath, he’s on me. His heavy weight presses me into the mattress before I can think to fight back, but I try anyway. I buck my hips to try to dislodge him, but he’s too big, and the combination of his weight and the soft mattress makes it impossible for me to get enough momentum to throw him off.

But it’s not until I feel the blade pressed to my throat that I pause and panic bubbles in my chest.

Kovu won’t hurt me. Kovu won’t hurt me. Kovu won’t hurt me. I repeat the words over and over again in my head, but as I stare up at the monster the rest of the world sees when they look at him, I’m not so sure.

Right now he’s not my Kovu, he’s the man who ruthlessly kills anyone who wrongs him or his family, and I’m frozen in place as he stares down at me.

“Never again,” he whispers, digging the blade in harder.

“Kovu,” I force out. “It’s me. It’s Camilla.” The words are strangled and panicked, but I keep my hands pinned to my side. I think he’s still asleep, even if his eyes are wide open, and I’ve heard waking someone who is sleepwalking can be really dangerous, so I’m not willing to try it with a knife held against my throat.

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