Chapter 5 Arabella
Chapter Five
ARABELLA
“We should have never left in the first place. She’s probably woken up by now—” Razar’s voice cut off as he met my gaze.
I nearly let out a girly sigh, my body instantly reacting and lighting up under his crimson gaze.
I could describe everything about his eyes, down to the lighter blood-red streaks that highlighted his pupils, as well as the darker maroon shade around the edge.
Razar was someone that I had stared at for so often and so long that I had no choice but to have memorized everything about him.
Of course, it didn’t help that I was obsessed and in love with the man.
Luckily, I no longer doubted that he felt very strongly about me, even if he was still coming to terms with his night terror’s urge to scare me…
though scare me it did not. I wasn’t positive Razar fully understood how it made me feel, but I could promise that if he didn’t know now that, it wouldn’t be very long until it was extremely obvious.
I wasn’t exactly good at hiding anything from these men.
In fact, my romantic feelings towards them had been the only thing I’d truly attempted to hide, and clearly I had failed rather spectacularly.
So now I was done trying to keep anything back—it wasn’t worth it.
I never wanted miscommunication or hurt between us again.
After all, there was so much more to focus on.
“I haven’t been up long,” I promised as Razar appeared in front of me. My head fell back, looking up—way up, since he was easily Cy’s height—as his large hand curled around my waist.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked roughly.
I could hear the others talking, and I was glad for the moment alone.
I stepped closer into his chest, allowing myself to relax into his frame.
My fingers ran up his muscular bronze arms, the short-sleeved shirt he was wearing showcasing the faint red sparkles embedded in his skin, only broken up by the tattoos crawling from his finger trips up his arms and all along his neck.
I had never held myself back from touching Razar—at least I hadn’t thought I’d been holding myself back—but now I was wanting to touch him more than ever.
I went up on my toes, running my fingers through his short hair.
The rumble that broke from his throat as he leaned into my touch caused pleasure to pool through my body, then he snatched me up around the waist and brought me level with him, making it so I could touch him with ease.
I was beyond pleased that it wasn’t just his arms wrapped around me. The black tendrils that usually only made an appearance at night wound around me, rhythmically tightening and loosening on me as if reminding me of their presence.
“Yes,” I finally responded, stretching my arms around him. “Although I could totally use a shower. How was the clearing?”
“Empty—like nothing ever happened,” Blackwell’s rumbled voice drew my attention as he approached us, the others having shifted to allow for both massive men.
I noticed Ashur slip in and quietly grab himself coffee, and I fought the urge to call him over to be part of this…
whatever this was. I didn’t fully have a name for it.
That would be weird, right? Maybe it wouldn’t.
A near groan caught in my throat. Despite barely knowing the terror, there was something to the connection between us, something that brought all of this full-circle—but I felt like we needed to be alone to talk about it first before I called him across the room and possibly made it awkward for everyone else.
Alright, maybe just awkward for me if he reacted negatively, or worse, walked away… Yeah, never mind. What the heck was I even thinking? I mean, I hadn’t even known the man’s name until the clearing, and before I’d sincerely thought he was a wolf… So what did I do now?
“Love.” Blackwell reclaimed my attention as his black eyes ran over me, checking that I was okay.
Their void-like nature flashed with gold heat as they moved over certain curves of my frame, not caring that I was in Razar’s arms. Then again, the legend terror—Hades’ son—didn’t let anything stop him from expressing how he felt about me, even other men.
Blackwell was so extremely unique-looking, and while he wasn’t wearing one of his normal old-fashioned suits, instead donning a tight shirt and dress pants, the man looked ever powerful and lethal.
His olive skin seemed more golden than usual, and his oil-colored hair was no longer slicked back, hanging loose around his face, highlighting his dark gaze and the scar that bolted through his left eyebrow.
Even his burning bonfire scent added to the contradictory and amazing person that Blackwell was—that all my men were.
Although, ‘men’ really wasn’t the right term.
No, they were nightmares through and through—they just had very different forms. Where Razar turned into the terror of people’s nightmares, Blackwell turned into an onyx warrior god that was as hard to the touch as he looked…
Trust me, I would know. I still hadn’t talked to him about the ever important gold cum, for the record.
I felt like that totally warranted discussion, right?
Almost as if he knew my thoughts, his black, oily magic surrounded me in an intense wave before Razar growled, pushing it off violently.
“We need to make a plan.” I exhaled, trying to shake myself off.
Blackwell smirked at Razar in a goading manner, trying to defuse the tension. The two of them liked each other, even considered one another friends, but the dominance fight was always a possibility. It was with all my men. It was just a complication you couldn’t ignore. I mean, they weren’t human.
“I wish he hadn’t escaped, but at least Peace is safe. After I shower—”
“I can bring you upstairs.”
Ashur’s offer had me immediately wiggling out of Razar’s arms. He grumbled about but let me go, and I approached my wolf for the first time since the clearing. I wouldn’t lie, I was a bit nervous, but the warmth in his gaze eased my anxiety.
My wolf.
I kept calling him that, but he wasn’t mine. I didn’t even know what type of terror he was—I literally knew nothing about this man except that his name was Ashur. But why did he feel like mine, then? Why did the two of us seem to fit together so well?
It was like when I first met Amun—
I turned around on the stairs and looked over the room, realizing that he was missing.
“Where is Amun?”
Saint offered me a grin as he shook his head and nodded towards the door. “Still out there, probably getting you something.”
Well, that was romantic.
But should I worry about him being alone out there? I mean, he was a massive mummy… I didn’t need to worry—right?
Instead of overthinking it, I followed Ashur up the stairs.
As I caught up with him, he placed a hand on my back, causing me to lean into him.
I smiled, knowing he was using this as an excuse to spend time with me, especially since I’d already been up here.
Despite my nightmares talking on the first floor, I could feel their eyes on us, and I knew that I wouldn’t get a lot of alone time with him.
My men were even more possessive and territorial than normal because of everything happening.
I did appreciate they were giving me this moment, though.
Ashur’s treehouse was beautiful. The main floor was cozy and comfortable, fitted with modern necessities, but in the barest and simplest form.
The winding circular staircase that went up into the tree seemed to be carved out of the tree itself rather than constructed, and each of the alcoves along the way were filled with carved objects, books, and other collectables.
I paused as we reached halfway upstairs, tilting my head and examining a gorgeous hand-carved wolf made out of what appeared to be white stone, but when I smoothed my fingers over it, I realized it was wood. So well crafted.
Ashur’s throat produced a low rumble. I snapped my head up, finding his gaze on my fingers and the way I was touching the small object. I winced and put it down. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have touched that without asking.”
His gaze met mine, affection paired with so much intensity. “You can have it if you want.”
I blinked. Oh.
I looked back at the wolf and smiled, picking it up and holding it. I felt a small tightening in my chest and shook my head. “We’ve already caused so much trouble for you, Ashur. I can’t take something of yours.”
Ashur’s large hands collected mine, closing the wolf between us. I felt his power skim across my body, a ripple of pleasure traveling through me. “I want you to keep it, Arabella.”
My eyebrows went up at the serious nature of his voice. “Are you sure?”
“Yes.” His answer was solid and firm. I nodded and took the wolf, holding it against my chest, needing to find a permanent spot for it.
“I need to find a place for it, or somewhere to carry it around—”
I was up in Ashur’s arms as we soared through the air, and in less than a second, I found myself in his bedroom.
He flashed me a warm smile as I let out a surprised laugh, sitting me on the bed.
I watched with interest as he searched for something in a large chest at the end of the bed.
The large man moved so gracefully, and I had a feeling it came from the eons of experience I could feel embedded in his power.
“How long have you been living here?” I asked curiously.
Ashur froze and met my gaze, his unusual eyes looking even more wild in such a casual setting. “In the Oceanic Forest?”
“Sure,” I hedged, wanting to know far more about him.
“A few thousand years…” He frowned. “I don’t keep track of time like you do, my moon, so I don’t have a clear answer. Time passes differently here. Days and seconds blend into years, it feels like.”
Uneasiness settled in my stomach, hoping that was somewhat metaphorical.