Chapter 8 Cy
Chapter Eight
CY
“No answer,” Arabella stated quietly, her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she stared down at the secure landline.
The rest of the cabin was quiet. Everyone gathered outside, giving my pixie a moment to try to reach the director.
I wasn’t entirely surprised he wasn’t picking up, not only because of everything happening at the institute, but because the number she was calling from wasn’t recognizable—he would be expecting contact from the RV.
I could only hope that he would realize the RV was offline soon, that the self-defense system had been activated, and then call this number back.
Obviously, Love and Peace knew where we’d been last as well, so I was positive we would be in contact with her father soon.
Maybe we could send Saint back to the institute—I knew he could get there quickly…
No, he wouldn’t leave Arabella unless it was an absolute emergency.
I wouldn’t either, even for a short amount of time.
With god terrors actively searching for her, I didn’t feel safe, even with the eight of us watching out for her.
Especially not in an unknown area with unknown nightmares.
Around three miles northeast of the Oceanic Forest was Kalinda’s camp, and it was nothing like I’d expected. I hadn’t really known what to expect, but a luxurious main cabin and four smaller cabins on the edge of a lake was not it.
Apparently, Kalinda and her group patrolled the area and had lived out here for two years now. They weren’t a large group, but sizable enough that I was feeling a level of stress about having my pixie around so many unknown variables—so many fucking male nightmares.
“He’ll call back,” I assured Arabella as she leaned into me, her eyes closing with an exhaustion that I knew she had been hiding from the others.
My arms wrapped around her as my gaze traveled out the window to watch my team interact with the other nightmares, who were displaying a level of civility that was rather impressive given that a group of strangers was invading their home—except for that one bastard.
I had immediately searched him out when we arrived, and while he was currently hiding away in one of the smaller cabins, his attention always seemed to come back to Arabella.
I just hoped he realized what a fine fucking line he was toeing.
“What’s wrong?” Arabella pulled back, a confused, concerned expression on her face.
“It’s nothing, pixie,” I promised, knowing she felt the tension in my body from thinking about him. “Just worried about you.”
I was also worried about slaughtering someone and getting us kicked out of here before Arabella could get in contact with her father.
I had survived on nothing for a very long time—I knew how to live on the road—but that wasn’t a life suited for Arabella.
My pixie was beyond adaptable, but I liked how sheltered and spoiled she’d been through her life.
I liked the idea of her always being taken care of, and her not having what she needed didn’t sit well with me.
“Worried about me?” She arched her brow in confusion, as if she couldn’t understand why I would be. Most likely because she didn’t realize how most humans would have reacted to everything she’d been through. Then again, Arabella wasn’t really a normal human, was she?
“Because you’re exhausted and haven’t had a real meal outside of eggs in at least two or three days,” I pointed out knowingly, and her eyes darkened with realization. “We need to be better at taking care of you.”
I needed to be better at taking care of her.
“That doesn’t fall on you,” she murmured, going up on her toes and brushing her lips against mine.
My fingers moved up her frame as I brushed over the mark on her neck—not just the bite mark, but the scaled pattern.
I felt my fangs pulse for a moment, remembering how good it felt to plunge them into her skin, and when I pulled back, Arabella’s eyes were hooded with need.
Fuck. I wanted to explore this woman’s every desire while licking and biting every inch of her soft skin.
I wanted to know how she felt about our little conversation regarding breeding her—although, I suppose we hadn’t used that term.
It was the one that first came to mind, and the idea of doing exactly that, holding her down until she took all of me, sent a possessive need through me like I’d never experienced.
I knew Arabella was a bit unsure, but I had also seen something else, something hidden deep beneath her hesitation, and I had been able to smell that she got turned on at the concept.
It was so subtle, it was possible that even she hadn’t recognized it.
Arabella wasn’t against the concept, she was just surprised that we were so for it.
I was beyond for it.
When she’d asked me about eggs and being pregnant, I had wanted to convince her to test it out.
To let me fill her tight body with cum and see what happened.
Honestly, I had no idea how it would work between us, but I was so fucking willing to try.
I would pretty much give anything to spread her pretty thighs and plunge my cock into her tight hole.
A groan nearly rattled from my throat as she kissed me again before pulling back and leaning into me. I inhaled her delicate scent and considered bringing it up to her, but then I felt her body relax against mine, so I tightened my hold.
I lifted her easily into my arms and carried her towards the couch, pulling a blanket over us as I sat. The main cabin’s living space was near the phone, so I figured it was the perfect place for her to take a nap while we waited for her father to call back.
I hadn’t even planned to fall asleep, wanting to keep watch on my pixie, but the minute I closed my eyes I was assaulted with memories of the past.
The chains on my wrists tightened, and I considered breaking free.
I knew it would hurt. I knew they might even kill me before I could manage it, but the possibility felt worth it.
I couldn’t keep living like this. I mean, fuck—this wasn’t living.
This was slavery, and I’d endured nearly six years of it here after being sold by my previous owner.
Not anymore.
My gaze moved over the damp stone walls of the catacombs we were being kept in under the city.
Above I could hear the heartbeats and footsteps of French men and women going about their day, not knowing that a black market of terrors lived right under their feet.
The minute I broke from these chains, I would leave this country.
Maybe I would go to the Americas.
I had heard there were nightmares there, more than anywhere else, and that they had havens—places humans couldn’t touch. I liked the sound of that. I really fucking liked the sound of that.
More so, when I closed my eyes, I felt a draw to the region. I didn’t understand it, but after all this time, I was starting to realize my instincts were always right.
Not listening to them, attempting to trust others, is what got me here.
Never again. I would never trust again.
I woke with that feeling, that urge to never trust again, weighing heavily on my chest. Of course, I no longer felt that way.
I would even claim it was impossible to feel that way after meeting Arabella.
But there had been a time when that depth of pain was all that mattered, when it was the only thing that rang out in the silence of the night.
My gaze moved down to Arabella’s sleepy, relaxed face.
I hadn’t slept more than an hour, so I tried not to move.
She had recently exerted so much energy, so much power, and she needed the rest. I wasn’t positive if she had truly come to terms with what she had done in that clearing or the fact that she had branded us with a signature that was completely unique to her.
I didn’t recognize the runes in our markings, each of them different, but I did know that they were significant.
Significant enough that when we got back to the institute, I would be looking into them.
In the distance, I could hear my team setting up some type of place for us to stay for the night since the director hadn’t called back yet.
I didn’t want to stay here longer than we had to, but I knew for the sake of Arabella, a night with some real food would do her good.
She may have been able to fuck nightmares, but she still needed to eat and sleep like a human.
Our human. My human. My pixie who I loved more than anything in this world.
“Cy?” Arabella whispered before blinking her eyes open, her face filled with a sleepy, sated happiness. “Crap. I fell asleep. How long have I been asleep?”
“Maybe an hour or two,” I guessed. “No one has called back.”
Arabella deflated against the couch before nodding and turning her head to look towards the window. “Want to go outside? It looks nice out.”
“Soon. I love holding you,” I said, not embarrassed in the least to admit I was needy when it came to my pixie.
I had accepted that I would share her, but I knew each of us would have moments of selfishness.
Moments where sharing didn’t seem possible, where all we wanted was to spend time alone with Arabella.
That didn’t change now that we were romantically involved—that had always been a fucking thing.
From the moment she walked into the containment chamber and looked my basilisk form dead in the eye, I knew I would forever follow her. She had become my true north, and I had a feeling that I had been called here because of her.
To protect and love her.
“I love this,” she whispered, snuggling into my chest. “I love you.”
I stiffened, surprised by her words. I shouldn’t have been—I knew Arabella loved me, but the way she said it was so natural and comfortable.
As if she hadn’t just said words I’d been craving for years now.
I grasped her chin lightly and tilted her head back, examining the slight pink to her cheeks and the small smile she offered me.
I couldn’t help but love that. The soft innocence that sometimes came off her was absolutely intoxicating.
“What?” she asked.
“I love you, pixie. I will always love you, until the day I die.” Which hopefully would be centuries from now.
“Cy,” she whispered, her eyes widening with emotion. I may not have been the best with emotions or words—I really didn’t do well with fucking words—but I would always try for Arabella. I would always give my full self for Arabella.
Sudden yelling had my head snapping towards the windows, arguments breaking out outside of the cabin.
I gently eased Arabella up and walked towards the window.
A low rumble caught in my throat, noticing that someone was poking a finger at Damian, his smile easy and relaxed.
At least it hadn’t escalated to any of us getting pissed.
It wasn’t unusual for others to be mad at us, but for Damian or any of us to get pissed while staying as guests would be bad.
“Crap,” Arabella grumbled. “Let me go use the bathroom, and we can go out there.”
I nodded in understanding, glad she wasn’t going out yet. I walked towards the cabin door to keep an eye on the situation, becoming concerned when Arabella still wasn’t back after several minutes.
I didn’t want to rush her, and maybe I was a bit on edge, but after another minute I walked through the hallway, expecting to find a bathroom, but instead I found a large dining hall.
My eyes narrowed on Arabella, who was alone except for the bastard invading her space.
It was clear as day that she was uncomfortable, her body leaning back as much as she could, trapped between a table and him.
I walked towards them silently, and the closer I got, the more I recognized his scent.
It was the asshole from before, but he was wearing a hoodie over his head as if that would somehow make him discreet.
“What’s your fucking problem?” he demanded of Arabella. “You got something against me? Or do you only like those specific nightmares?”
“I love those specific nightmares. I don’t know you,” she responded indifferently. Her eyes moved over to meet mine, relief flashing there before she refocused.
“Love?” He barked out a laugh. “You don’t fucking love them. Humans and nightmares don’t fuck, and they sure as fuck don’t love.”
“What exactly do you want?” Arabella asked, crossing her arms. There was no fear in her expression—if anything, she looked fucking annoyed.
I couldn’t help but smile at that. My brave pixie. I also knew that Arabella normally gave nightmares the benefit of the doubt. I’m not sure what he had said before I arrived on scene, but it clearly had pissed her off.
“I want to know what exactly they see in you. You’re marked by them, and you smell like you’ve been fucked. How is that possible?”
There was no way anything good was going to come out of this.
I was standing right behind him, and I came to a decision on what I planned to do in less than a second.
I lived by a few simple rules. Arabella always came first, I trusted my instincts more than anyone else’s, and I killed anyone who actively preyed on those weaker than them.
This situation had it all.
“None of your business,” she hissed, and when his hand went out to grab her, I snapped. I pulled down his hood, grabbed his head from behind, and twisted. Hard. A loud snap sounded as I broke his neck.
No one touched my pixie.
I pulled, hard enough to disconnect his head from his body, and tossed it to the side, his body collapsing to the ground. I knew no one would miss him, and the world was a better place without individuals like him.
Nightmares didn’t live by many rules, but dominance existed so there was natural order. Weaker nightmares submitted to more dominant ones, so there wasn’t unnecessary bloodshed. Then there were people like him who ruined it for all of us.
I kicked the body to the side as blood flooded the ground. Arabella stepped away, her mouth opened in shock. No fear, just shock. I wasn’t positive why—he had gone to touch her, and that wasn’t fucking acceptable at all.
“You killed him,” she whispered with large eyes.
“I did.” I cupped her jaw as I stepped into her. “I killed him for you.”
And I would always do anything for my pixie.