From the Ashes (Syndicate of the Legion #3)

6. Camilla

CHAPTER SIX

CAMILLA

I slip out from between Crew and Bishop despite how good their warmth feels on my bare skin. It’s sometime around dawn if the light coming through the curtains is anything to go by, and I need to check on Kaos and Kovu.

They both had rough nights last night, and I knew I had to give them space. But the time for space has come and gone.

I slip on one of Crew’s button-downs, smiling as his familiar scent washes over me. Where do these men get off smelling so fucking good?

I step into the hallway and pause, looking up and down at the doors I know are their bedrooms, but up until last night, I’d never been in any of them.

We always sleep in my bedroom downstairs, which means without opening the doors, I can’t distinguish which room belongs to each of them.

I drag my bottom lip between my teeth and nibble at it for a moment while I consider where I should look for them, but I decide their bedrooms are as good a place as any to start.

The first door I push open, the one directly across from Crew’s, belongs to Bishop. There’s no doubt in my mind that the perfectly neat room with nothing out of place belongs to him, and I can’t help but smile as I look around at the clean lines. It’s decorated in shades of gray and dark wood, similar to Crew’s.

I tug the door closed and move down the hallway further to the room beside Bishop’s, and when I push the door open, I know without a shadow of a doubt that the room belongs to Kovu. The styling is similar to the other two rooms, but it’s a mess. There’re band shirts thrown haphazardly over the chair in the corner, the black sheets are unmade, and I’m pretty sure I can see a bloodstained towel beside the bed.

With a smile, I close the door, shaking my head as I move across the hall to the room that must belong to Kaos. His room is decorated in lighter grays and rich blues, colors I wouldn’t associate with the tortured man I’ve come to know.

One wall houses an impressive collection of comic books that I definitely want to peruse later, and there’s a punching bag in the corner, because of course there is. But there’s no Kaos in here, so I pull the door closed behind me and eye the door at the end of the hall.

I take a step toward the closed door before hesitating. What if this room belonged to a woman they had here before me? At this point, I feel fairly secure in the relationships I’m building with each of them, but that doesn’t mean I’m ready to walk into a room they kept for someone else.

I swallow and force my feet forward. It’s better that I know. Everything is already so fresh and painful, I might as well rip the Band-Aid off now while I’m feeling vulnerable.

The room is lighter than all the others and appears to be largely unlived in. The light wood complements the cream furnishings, and I step further into the room without thinking about it.

And that’s when I see him.

Kaos kneels beside the bed, his head bowed and his chest heaving. There’s a tension in his body that I only recognize from my early days here, except this is worse. More violent.

Part of me is urging me to move forward, to go to him, to comfort him, but the other half is telling me to get out of here. Kaos is unpredictable at the best of times, and I don’t want to give him a chance to hurt me with his words like he has so many times before.

But then his bloodshot eyes flick up, and I can’t help but gravitate toward him, desperate to comfort him in his time of need.

I close the distance between us and drop to my knees in front of him, but there are no words I can say to bring him comfort. All I can do is be here for him.

“He’s alive,” Kaos whispers hoarsely. “I watched him die right here. How can he be alive?” There’s a vulnerability in his voice that I’ve never heard before, that he’s never allowed me to hear.

“I don’t know.” It’s not really an answer, but I have to say something.

I don’t know enough, or anything really, about how Caleb Black died. No one talks about him here, and aside from a few passing comments over the years, my father never talked about him either. From what I understand, he wasn’t as business-facing as the others. He worked behind the scenes, and he liked it that way. Maybe this is why. Maybe he always planned to betray his family.

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” The question comes out on a choked sob, and I finally allow myself to comfort him. I can’t help it. I need to make sure he’s okay, even if he ends up rejecting my help.

I wrap my arms around him as I climb into his lap, desperate to be as close to him as I can, and when his thick arms wrap around me and hold me against his chest, I let out a breath of relief. He’s not pushing me away.

Kaos buries his face in my neck and breathes me in as I run my fingertips through his hair, something I remember my mother doing when I used to get upset as a child.

“What if they’re right, Princess? What if he’s been sabotaging us? What if he tried to kill you?”

His words are muffled against my throat, and I hold him tighter because I don’t have a response because I don’t know what’s going to happen if our suspicions are true. Will it mean Kaos loses his father for the second time? Or will we be blindsided again?

“I don’t have any answers for you. I wish I did. But we’ll work it out. Together,” I promise. I may not have been a part of this family for as long as they have, and hell, I might be counting myself in before my time, but if there’s anything I know about the men of the Legion, it’s that there’s nothing they won’t do for each other.

I just hope that if push comes to shove and we find ourselves going against Caleb, that Kaos picks the right side.