Chapter 6 Arabella #2
Razar let out a savage growl, angry at what he was suggesting. Love sneered and narrowed his eyes. “This is why I don’t try to be a friend. I get growled at.”
“They do growl a lot,” Peace agreed. “I’ve heard it from in here.”
I had to wonder what else she had heard from in here.
“I think it may be time for both of you to leave,” Saint suggested casually.
Minutes later they did exactly that, taking with them a note I wrote to my father explaining everything that had happened, just in case they arrived at the institute before we were able to get in touch with him.
When they disappeared in a cloud of red and green smoke, everyone breathed out a sigh of relief.
I didn’t realize how much tension had been building in the room, but it made it crystal clear that despite their bickering, my men truly got along because not getting along obviously looked very different.
I ran my fingers up to my necklace once again, loving the weight of it.
Cy appeared in front of me, his hands meeting mine and going to touch the delicate piece. “What is this?”
“It’s mine,” Ashur said, voice firm but not angry. “Don’t touch it.”
Saint snapped his head over to him, his jaw tightening. “You marked her?”
Scratch that—maybe the ‘getting along’ thing had been wishful thinking.
Ashur’s eyes flashed dark. “Just like she marked me.”
What?
“Like she marked all of us,” Blackwell countered.
Again—What?
Suddenly, all my nightmares were showing me their left forearms, pushing up their sleeves and turning their arms so I could see the inside of them.
I approached Damian since he was the closest, my eyes widening in response to what I saw.
Holy crap. Blackwell wasn’t lying—right there on the inside of his arm was a hot pink circle that seemed to be glowing.
Inside of it was a rune that I didn’t recognize.
Looking over my other men, I realized that they all had it…
“When did this happen?” I asked, feeling a sense of possessiveness and pride.
I knew that sounded crazy because I didn’t have any nightmare instincts to blame it on, but I absolutely loved seeing my mark on them.
As I ran my fingers over it, I felt a surge of connection, confirming what it was—my mark.
“Why the heck are you just telling me this now?” I asked, looking up and finding all of their eyes on me.
“When your magic rebounded in the clearing,” Ashur said, “it knocked all of us out, and I was the first to wake. I didn’t realize we had the marking until we got back.”
“Oh,” I whispered.
“I love it,” Damian offered casually, but I could see the heat in his gaze.
Looking back down at it, I couldn’t help but smile…
Until I considered that they may not all be nearly as thrilled as I was.
“Are you guys okay with this? I know some of you have marked me”—pretty much everyone outside of Ashur, and Razar’s had healed, unfortunately— “but this is a lot. Especially for you, Ashur.”
“I love it, and I love my mark on you,” Ashur said hotly, looking suddenly defensive as he held Saint’s glare—most likely because of Saint’s outburst regarding the necklace. Those two clearly had some sort of history they were going to need to work out.
“Hey, stop it.” I walked over to my god terror and nudged him, making him break Ashur’s gaze. He looked down at me with a smirk, brushing his lips across my forehead as Ashur stormed out, Saint following right behind him.
Zain let out a groan and seared me with a kiss before marching off after them. I took that as a sign he liked the mark as well.
“What the hell was that about?”
“That is going to be a fight. Saint was trying to question his mark on you and insinuate something,” Cy said, appearing next to me. “I’ll go moderate. And don’t think twice about the mark—we love it.”
I was going to think about it a lot, and as he walked out the door, Blackwell grunted and followed after as a growl sounded in the other room, spurring Damian into action. I went to follow, but a large arm caught me around the waist. I shivered, feeling that it was Razar.
When the door closed in the library, I turned into Razar and tried to not feel insecure about this marking situation.
It was silly, but I didn’t know where I truly stood with him on this, and it was nerve-wracking.
Sure, he had marked me temporarily, but that had been in the heat of the moment.
What if he had purposefully made sure it wouldn’t be permanent?
When I let my head fall back and he ran his thumb over my pulse, his face contorted with concern.
“I don’t like that,” Razar rumbled.
“Like what?” I asked softly.
“That you doubted I would feel anything but love for this mark.”
“I just know how you feel about markings,” I whispered.
“My marks on your skin—you could mark up, claw up, do whatever the fuck you want to me, and I would love it,” Razar growled, brushing his nose against mine.
I blinked and spoke evenly. “Is it so hard to imagine I feel the same?”
Razar inhaled sharply. “No, it’s not. I know you’re right, and I want to, I just have to give into that. I love you, Arabella, and I want you safe, first and foremost… I also want to give you everything. I’m just trying to find a way to make it work.”
His words were so damn earnest, and I could see the struggle he was going through.
“I love you too,” I whispered, the depth of it so different than the millions of times we had said it before. “And you will always keep me safe—I know that more than I know my own name.”
Razar groaned, picking me up under my thighs so we were closer to eye level. “When you say shit like that, it’s going to get you in trouble, Arabella.”
“Good trouble?”
“I will always make sure you feel good,” he said before looking at the door. “But when less people are around. I’m possessive as fuck over you.”
And I loved it.
“We should probably go out there,” I said, sounding cranky to even myself.
I hadn’t been super focused on the noises from outside of the library, but from what I could tell, Cy was right—they weren’t peaceful ones.
As Razar carried me out there, my mouth dropped open. I pushed away from him as he dropped me gently to the floor, rushing to the center of the room.
“How?!” I demanded as I looked at Saint and Ashur. Both were bleeding, one from the head and the other from the mouth. The person who was the most beat up and on the floor with his head between his knees?
Amun.
“He tried to stop us!” Saint growled.
“As he should have.” I snapped out. Amun looked up at me, his eyes sparkling with life.
His fluorescent green eyes bore into me as his umber skin glittered beneath the lights, and for just a moment I forgot about everything else going on around us.
I sat down on the floor and gently touched his face.
Scars were nothing new on Amun—he had so many of them.
His entire look was very rough and edgy, including his eyebrow and ear piercings that glinted in the light.
His shoulder-length inky hair was wet as if he had been out in the rain, and he was wearing a pair of jeans and tank, showing off his full shoulders and arms of tattoos.
Damn him, he was so sexy, and his natural scent of parchment and oil was so familiar now.
Amun was becoming a source of comfort and home I had never expected but absolutely loved.
“I got you flowers, precious,” he said softly, pulling a bouquet of wildflowers from behind him on the floor. “Sorry I wasn’t here when you woke up.”
I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my face. “They’re beautiful, thank you so much.” I leaned forward and brushed my lips against his. He groaned, capturing my jaw and kissing me hard enough that my head spun pleasurably.
“Are you serious?” Saint growled. “Amun, this is why you get fucking beat up.”
Amun chuckled against my lips before I pulled back and huffed, leaning into the legend terror’s arms. The way he moved so effortlessly through the world and how he interacted with all of us had me forgetting that he had just woken from a long slumber within a tomb in Egypt.
There were other times where it was very obvious, though, and I loved both sides of him completely.
Especially when he’d given me a bracelet that was essentially an engagement ring, promising his affection and protection.
I swear, the man was making it so I had to fall in love with him.
I raised my voice since all of them were talking. “We should probably go to the RV and try to contact my father, let him know about Peace and Love arriving.”
“He would probably be able to locate the others as well,” Blackwell pointed out, taking a sip of his coffee, his eyes narrowed on Ashur’s necklace.
Lord. How much did we want to bet his look was about his mark not being visible enough like Ashur’s necklace?
I nodded at his remark. “Alright, let’s do it then!”
That got them moving. Amun helped me up, and I took the flowers from him. I went to the counter and grabbed a hand towel, soaking it in water and wrapping the stems until I could find a makeshift vase for them in the RV. When I turned, I found Ashur watching me, suddenly looking panicked.
I knew why. Or at least I thought I knew why.
“Ashur… I know you have lived here for a really long time, and I don’t want to take that away from you or make you go somewhere you don’t want to, but I want you with us. I want to be with you.”
There! That was clear enough, right?
Ashur’s eyes lit up, almost seeming to relax as he gently smoothed his fingers over my necklace. “My moon, when I marked you, I knew I would be leaving with you. You are far more important than my simple home here. I know it will be an adjustment, but it’s worth it to be with you every day.”
I felt my cheeks heat, then nearly rolled my eyes at the annoyed sound that came from Razar nearby. Amun shook his head, approaching and gently taking the flowers from me, somewhat interrupting our moment. Although I noticed between Ashur and Amun there was no hostility—not really.
“Don’t fuck this up.”
Ashur let out a low rumble but didn’t argue, and I couldn’t help but smile at the two of them. Despite the chaos going on, there was something perfect about this moment…perfect about us doing this together.
All nine of us.