Chapter 1
Chapter One
ARABELLA
I wouldn’t change a single element about my life.
I knew without a doubt that others would find that shocking.
I mean, what human woman, besides myself, wanted to live inside of an institute that created and trained nightmarish teams that haunted the subconscious of most sane creatures?
Unfortunately, no amount of explanation could convince most humans that these ‘nightmares’ and ‘monsters’ had just as much right to exist as they did, that they had lives as valid as any human’s.
Was I biased? Absolutely. But that didn’t discount my opinion.
I not only considered this place my home, I also counted the nightmares that lived here as an extension of my family.
Especially my monsters, the team my father had placed me with.
I had no right to call them mine, but it was the truth.
That was how I felt, down to my very core.
At least while it was my job to keep them safe.
I could have laughed at that alone. Tiny me, keeping them safe? Hilarious, right? It was true though. I made sure that things didn’t go sideways on missions, and therefore, in part, kept them safe, even if it was from a distance.
Honestly, I was a bit envious of them. I dreamed of being out in the field with them, being part of the action. Of course it was dangerous... but also exciting. It took a lot for me to feel something, but I had an inkling that would make me feel something for sure.
Unfortunately, I also knew the plan was a no-go. I was a lot of things—smart (like really fucking smart), excellent at research, and adept at creating connections with creatures of all sorts. But physicality-wise? I wasn’t a top-tier performer by any stretch of the imagination.
Tilting my head, I traced my reflection in the perfectly shined bathroom mirror, adjusting the clothes that I planned to wear for the day.
It wasn’t that I wasn’t physically fit—I was lean with tight muscles that mostly came naturally—but I couldn’t pack a punch of any means.
My build was delicate and almost ballerina-like in nature, making a lot of nightmares assume that I could be bullied into doing what they wanted.
That was by far their first—and usually only—mistake.
Physical dominance had always been considered highly important in nightmare culture, and that was clearly something I didn’t have, so I couldn’t blame them for their analysis.
At 5’1”, I was short, with bright rose-colored hair that brushed my shoulders in a wavy, almost messy texture.
It was the only aspect of myself that was unexplainable.
I had pink hair. It was odd, but there was no magical signature associated with me, so we just assumed it was somehow natural. Not that I had spent a lot of time around humans, but the color didn’t seem to be one of their natural shades, so it was, in fact, confusing.
Leaning forward, I brushed on some light lip gloss, my one smoky-colored eye following the pattern of my action.
My other eye was a different story. The entire thing was a silvery white, and while I could see out of it, my vision wasn’t nearly as strong due to the injury I’d suffered.
I wasn’t exactly positive how I felt about the…
difference, even to this day. I had called it so many things across the years, but I had settled on ‘difference’ instead of ‘flaw,’ hoping that would make me feel better.
My long, pale fingers came up to my face, running over the harsh scar that started above my dark brow and down onto my eyelid, breaking briefly at the lashes until it continued down my cheek, nearly to my lip.
The mark, while a silver color from the healers’ attempts, had still stayed very prominent.
A sigh escaped my lips. Who was I kidding? I knew how I felt about it. I hated it.
I shouldn’t have hated it, though, because it had occurred while trying to calm a small, feline-like nightmare that wasn’t even fully matured.
I had been doing a good thing. Still, I had never completely gotten used to it, and each day I added a small black eyeliner heart underneath the end of the scar, somehow hoping to brighten it up a bit.
I wasn’t sure if the tactic worked, but I had grown used to the process each morning.
I mean, if we were being honest, odd looks weren’t unusual here.
Maybe it was something I could celebrate instead. But I wasn’t there yet. Maybe one day.
Luckily, what I lacked in physical prowess was made up for in my communication and persuasive action skills. Outside of research, it was the one thing that I focused on.
Oftentimes when someone arrived here, it was because they were interested in joining ISS.
For others, though, they were brought here forcibly because of their threat to society as a whole, to be held until they could be trusted.
That’s where I came in. Apparently, I had a very calm and soothing demeanor, so when a new nightmare was brought into the facility unwillingly, I helped.
It was usually right around explaining what we did here that most decided to join us.
Nightmares weren’t very different than most beings.
Everyone craved community, family, a group of people to call their own.
It was my job to show them that they had options.
That there were individuals who would welcome them instead of those that would try to kill them.
That they had a home here, if they wanted it.
Time and time again, I’d sat with creatures five times my size as they snarled and threatened me, but I possessed my own brand of ‘magic’ when it came to soothing those around me.
Usually within minutes, I had calmed them down to the point that we could talk.
It wasn’t really magic, of course, but it was an ability I was proud of, and I tried to use it when I could.
On the other hand, it most likely meant there was something off with me. The fact that I didn’t feel fear.
I had to admit that not everyone on my team was happy with this second part of my job. But they weren’t happy with a lot of decisions that I made.
A sound from my room had me slipping on my thin silver-framed glasses before taking one last look at the pair of cropped black pants, sweater, and heels I’d chosen to wear today.
The heels had these little black spikes on them, and the sweater was purposefully cut in places to appear worn, allowing me to push off the subtle chill of the air-conditioning without feeling too stuffy.
Still, as I stepped into my room, a shiver ran over my skin, and not due to the temperature.
No, this was due to who was outside my door.
Why he didn’t just let himself in, I had no idea. It seemed only at night did he decide it was a good time to randomly appear. I think it was his attempt to scare me. What he didn’t understand? It just turned me on. Terribly.
Problems? Who had problems?
Tugging open the door, my smile grew.
Razar leaned against the frame, his eyes immediately scanning over me as if searching for something, before he relaxed.
I never understood what exactly he was looking for, but whatever he saw brought a small twitch to his lips before he stepped into my space, meeting my gaze once again.
My breathing caught slightly at how much his closeness affected me, making my skin feel flushed as I resisted the urge to reach out and touch him.
He was my best friend. My protector. Something I would normally never admit to, but when I had told him once that I knew he would always protect me, his entire face lit up. Since then, I had never shied away from assigning him that role. If he wanted it, then it was one hundred percent his.
Along with pretty much whatever else he wanted… although I’m not positive he knew that part yet. A memory cascaded over me about one particular night about five years ago when I had nearly gotten myself killed.
The rattling from the windows had me slowly looking over to where a massive, fur-covered nightmare terrorized our holding room.
I cringed as the table I normally sat at went crashing into the door, bouncing off of it with literally zero effect.
My father offered me a look, but I shook my head, walked towards the door, and pressed my palm down onto the electronic pad.
In retrospect, this was a dangerous move, but up until this point, I’d yet to get hurt, and I didn’t think that would happen today either.
I looked down at the cute dress I’d gotten for my nineteenth birthday as a treat to myself and sighed, realizing that I hadn’t even dressed properly for this job. I really was off my game today.
“We should wait until at least Razar gets here,” my father commented as I stepped into the chamber.
The beep sounded as the door sealed off, and I stepped out into the secondary door that opened.
Almost immediately I was hit with the scent of wet fur and blood.
A low growl broke from the nightmare that I could feel watching me, having paused in his destruction, obviously trying to gauge my threat level.
I turned and began walking towards where the table normally sat as I examined our new nightmare.
There were several classes of nightmares, and this one wasn’t particularly dangerous... except for the wild temperament and brute strength.
“Hey there,” I offered softly as the creature stopped, its enlarged fangs dripping with blood as it sniffed the air.
“Any chance that you are interested in shifting back?” I added.
The nightmare growled and lunged for me.
I let out a small groan as my back hit the wall, a massive hand wrapping around my neck, almost immediately cutting off my air supply.
Even in this moment, fear escaped me as I stared into the wild eyes of a terrified creature.
“Who are you?” the nightmare demanded, putrid-smelling breath like raw meat surrounding me.