Chapter 7
Chapter Seven
BLACKWELL
“Un-fucking-believable.”
I couldn’t help but grin at Saint, who was now glaring at me, his eyes lit with retribution that I not only found amusing but oddly not threatening.
I knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t hurt me because Arabella wouldn’t want that.
Even if he was pissed that I had covered up any trace of him, outside of his mark on her soul and the skull on her sternum, with my own scent and cum.
“Both of you are unbelievable,” Razar snapped, jealousy flashing in his eyes.
I knew the only reason he hadn’t busted into the room with Arabella and me was that the others had managed to keep him somewhat distracted while she went to ‘change.’ I honestly really hadn’t intended to take her so shortly after Saint, especially with how rough I assumed he’d been, but the minute she opened her thighs to me, I knew I was screwed.
The little brat had thought it was authentically funny to push my buttons, and now I had a punishment that served both of us. I felt my cock harden at the image of her somehow managing to take all of me, in my nightmare form no less.
I nearly shook my head at that, wondering how I’d lost control so fast. I mean, it had been fucking amazing to feel her take me like that, but I knew it had been a stretch, literally and figuratively, to imagine that was even possible. But fuck had it been an amazing sight.
“She has burn marks on her,” Razar added, his jaw clenching.
I could also see something else though, something very much along the lines of hope, because unlike Saint, I didn’t have the ability to bring her back to life.
Nope, Arabella had survived mating with me, and while she had a few marks outside of the branding on her hips, she continuously ran her fingers over them happily as she stood up front with Cy and Zain, preparing for the meeting as we waited for the others.
Luckily, with the shields up we had been able to hold back the humans, but we needed a plan moving forward. It wasn’t our M.O. to play defense, so we needed to figure out an offensive plan, and fast.
“I’m fine!” Arabella shouted over to Razar with a small smile.
“Seriously, I’m completely and amazingly fine.
I have said it once, and I will say it again—I completely understand that mating with a nightmare is not a ‘soft’ process, more now than before.
Bruises, bite marks, burns, whatever the heck comes with it doesn’t matter because I care more about how I feel than the little pain in the exchange. ”
Motherfucker, hearing those words just made me want to claim her again.
Razar groaned and put his head down on the table he sat at, clearly struggling with changing his mindset about this. I didn’t blame the bastard—not only was he insanely protective over Arabella, but he had been raised by a human director and grew up with said director’s daughter, another human.
He hadn’t been exposed to nightmares in the traditional sense, and hadn’t fully come to an acceptance that his abilities were normal and natural. In fact, everything about what came with being with Arabella was normal for our situation, obviously. He just needed to come to terms with that.
I had a feeling it would be a process, and I was glad Arabella was patient, because it probably wouldn’t be an easy one. I’d known from the first day I met Arabella, and subsequently Razar, that their relationship was different than most nightmares and humans…
“Why are we here, Black?” Damian’s voice was filled with exhaustion that was rightly deserved. We had traveled a ridiculous amount in a small timeframe, and now we were sitting in a large room of some institute we’d heard rumor of from the humans.
“I just have a feeling about it,” I explained patiently.
When the doors opened in front of us, the comfortable room suddenly felt ten million degrees hotter.
I felt myself nearly lurch forward out of my chair as I gripped the leather chair arm, the fabric hissing under the heat from my hand as the individual causing this reaction looked up from the file she was holding.
“You must be Blackwell and Damian.” Her voice was smooth and light, causing me to stare at her like an idiot as she sat across from us, her delicate frame barely covered in a black leather dress with bright pink shoes. I…I literally had no idea what to make of this woman.
“Are you human?” Damian demanded, looking as nearly shocked as myself.
Her brow arched, looking back up from the files. “Hm? Oh, yes. I’m so sorry, my name is Arabella. I am the Director’s daughter. I wanted to officially greet both of you.”
Something she could do on her hands and knees while I slid my cock between…
Holy fuck. I ran a hand over my face, wondering if I needed to stand up and walk out.
Never in my life had I found a woman this appealing, down to her goddamn scent.
I needed to leave, although with how hard I was, standing probably wasn’t the smartest idea.
“Now, which of you is Damian?”Damian put up his hand awkwardly, still staring at her. “I’m Damian.”
“Legend terror, Class A,” Arabella noted, her manicured finger going down the file. “Son of Lucifer? So, are we talking about the Anti—”
“No.” Damian groaned, snapping out of his stupor. “No, not the Antichrist.”
She smirked. “I know, I’m just messing with you. The file says you hate that.”
“You have a file on us?” I asked, wanting to confirm considering we had never been here before.
She looked at me and smiled. “Oh yes, it appears the institute has had their eye on you two for a bit, which is why you are a perfect fit for the team I have in mind.”
“Team?” I mimicked.
“Yep, you are joining mine.”
Now that was something I could agree to.
I was suddenly pulled out of the memory when out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Mykia, the hellfox, jumping from table to table. I couldn’t sense if she had a human form or not, but she had taken to Arabella completely and hadn’t left her side except for when we had disappeared from the room.
“Can nightmares legally marry?” Saint asked out loud.
Arabella snapped her head away from Zain and Cy as I offered the bastard a dry look.
Amun was sitting next to him, smiling, as Damian, Razar, and I all narrowed our eyes at him.
What the heck was wrong with him? The woman had just decided she wanted to be with us and he was bringing up marriage?
A human institution? Although, the idea of marking her in such a human societally known way was appealing…
“Why?” Arabella asked with a serious face. “Is there a nightmare you want to marry?”
Brat. I grinned as she tried to keep a straight face at the low growl that came from Saint’s throat.
“No, flower, I meant you. What if we wanted to marry you?”
I did appreciate the ‘we.’
“What is wrong with you?” Damian asked in shock. “It's like you’re trying to scare her.”
“Or expose her to all his insanity so she becomes desensitized,” Amun added, making me grin. That was exactly what he was doing.
“I’m just offended it’s a ‘what if,’” Arabella teased as if we were joking.
Before we could say anything in response, the door swung open, and in walked Eve with Order and the Director.
There seemed to be tension between the first two, but the Director simply offered us all a head nod before going to grab a seat at the large table that faced where his daughter stood at the front, now leaning on a podium.
“Oh.” Eve came to a full stop and looked towards Arabella, then at me. “Well, that was fast.”
“What?” The Director looked up as Arabella turned bright pink, and Eve’s eyes went wide.
“Just thought it was fast how…how fast everyone got here,” she hedged, obviously horrible at lying. Arabella deflated, and Eve offered her a small smile before she grabbed a seat with Order.
“We got the shields up on time,” the Director stated.
“I didn’t expect an aerial attack,” Arabella breathed out, pacing. “I have a feeling this is only going to get worse, I just have no idea what spawned it.”
“Who spawned it,” Order called out. “This is of nightmare influence.”
Everyone’s gaze snapped to the bastard as he slowly looked away from where he was staring at Eve. “What? You guys don’t think it’s odd that humans still hate nightmares? After all this time?”
Honestly, I hadn’t. It was sort of a human ‘thing’ to hate the unknown.
“What the hell do you mean?” Eve demanded.
“Both of you”—he motioned towards Saint and her—“have been away far too long. What do you think is causing this type of tension? Fueling this type of hatred? This entire thing reeks of Chaos.”
“Your sister? You think she’s involved in this?” Saint demanded, looking livid.
“Yes, without a doubt.” Order looked bored as my eyes traced Arabella’s expression, her brain seeming to work far faster than any of ours sometimes, as she frowned.
“Why?” I asked quietly.
“This type of thing feeds Chaos; she relishes in it. I have no idea if she has gotten Hate or War on board, but if she has, it would explain the escalation,” Order explained.
“Fuck,” Eve breathed out. “Ridiculous. You would think they would have their shit together by now.”
“These are god terrors?” Arabella questioned.
“Yes,” Saint answered. “Each god terror has an opposite sibling, like Eve and I. Where Order has a sister, Chaos, there are several others that we know of personally… Hate and Love, War and Peace, and Truth and Deceit. All of them are absolute bastards that I have zero interest in seeing.”
“Saint,” Arabella scowled, “stop it.”
He threw his hands up. “Seeing family is horrible, and they are like distant cousins.”
“Thanks, bastard,” Eve growled before scowling. “Plus, do not call us cousins. Order is not my cousin. Gross.”
Order flashed a smile. “Don’t worry, babe, if you were my cousin I would still be into you. That’s how in love with you I am.”