Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
AMUN
“So you burned the entire building to the ground?” Damian asked Blackwell. “You just literally burned it to the ground? Damn. Now I’m really jealous I wasn’t there.”
I didn’t blame him for being jealous. Despite it being something small, it felt good to take the act of vengeance, especially after seeing how the young nightmares had been treated by the facility.
Humans had been bad when I had fallen into my sleep, but children?
Being locked up in an institute, undoubtedly exposed to some horrible shit? It made me sick.
Currently, they were all holed up in the bedroom at the back of the jet with Arabella.
It was a fairly long flight back to the institute, and some of them had never been on planes before, so she was doing her best to make them comfortable.
My precious was so many amazing things, but the compassion and softness she could show others was unparalleled. Beautiful.
So beautiful that I couldn’t help but move from the cabin, where Blackwell was recounting what occurred to Damian, to the door of the bedroom. Cy, Ashur, and Razar were all at the front of the jet, having been deemed too scary to interact with the children.
Which was why it was so damn funny that Saint was somehow not scary to them. Zain? I understood that—the nightmare was authentically nice and purposefully made himself non-intimidating…but Saint? I didn’t understand that one.
“You’re wrong,” the young basilisk—Synthia, if I had heard correctly—argued with Saint while brushing out the matted fur of the two small wolves that had refused to shift so far.
Apparently they had been there the shortest amount of time, so the other children had never seen them in their human forms, and no one knew their names.
“You’re just plain wrong about that,” she continued.
Saint blinked and looked to Arabella, who was sitting next to a silver-haired girl I had to assume was Nia.
Her hand was in Arabella’s, and she looked rather exhausted.
In fact, I predicted that if she were to lay down, she would fall asleep almost immediately.
It was clear these kids had been through a lot, and while I had never considered myself a caretaker in any shape or form—I had been a king.
I would have never let children be treated like this in my kingdom, and I had to fight the urge to find a pathway to further vengeance.
It was no longer the time or place to wage war—fighting, battle, and war were a far cry from what they used to be.
In some ways far more deadly, but also efficient.
It may have taken the fun out of it, just a bit.
“I’m wrong?” Saint pointed a finger at his chest in disbelief. “Flower, are you hearing this? I am wrong?”
“I mean, if you’re wrong, you’re wrong,” Zain said as he helped a younger boy, Benny, brush out a little night terror’s matted hair.
Her name was Three, and she was the one with the injury to her head.
I nearly growled at that, wondering what piece of shit could justify hurting a child.
That was fucked up. Nightmares may have had their faults, but from what I had experienced, children were always cared for.
Humans didn’t seem to have that same mentality. What these kids had probably been through infuriated me.
“Cake is always better than ice cream,” Saint argued incredulously. “You get frosting. Frosting is amazing, and ice cream melts.”
Arabella gave me an amused smile as Synthia shook her head and ignored him, clearly deciding she had more important things to do than argue with Death.
“What do you think, Amun?” Arabella asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief.
“Ice cream?” I questioned, knowing that it was best to agree with the children and their unofficial leader, Synthia.
“That’s it! Flower, I’m back to wanting him dead—”
Saint stopped mid-sentence as Three let out a terrified squeak. Grunting in realization, Saint self-corrected and added. “Dead to me. Amun is dead to me. Not actually dead; I just don’t want to talk to him anymore.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle at that.
“Thanks, Saint,” I mused as he shot me a lethal look and stormed from the room.
With a sigh, I sat down on an open chair as Arabella looked at all of them. “Do you want to try to get some rest? We have about three hours, and then we’ll be at the institute.”
“I’ll stay up and watch,” Benny offered.
“I can guard the door if you guys are worried. Arabella wouldn’t let anything hurt you,” I promised before adding, “None of us would.”
Although I suspected their fear came from some of us.
“I could use some sleep,” Nia admitted before looking at the bed. “I don’t want to get it dirty.”
“Don’t even worry about that,” Zain said. “Let’s get you settled.”
And for the next twenty minutes, we got the six of them settled in for some semblance of rest. I could tell it bothered Arabella that we didn’t have food for them, because some of them were no doubt starved enough that they wouldn’t be able to sleep well—which was when an idea popped into my head.
I left the room for a minute and went to Ashur, who was in a deep conversation with Cy until I arrived.
It didn’t completely surprise me that the two of them had things to talk about—nightmares, while extremely different on the outside, often had factors that brought out startlingly similar attributes.
It was one of the reasons Saint and I got along—we may have been different, but having death magic was intense, so it was hard to not bond over that experience.
Even if he was pissed that I said I liked ice cream more than cake.
“Can you create actual food? For the kids?”
Ashur stared at me before standing up and following me to the bedroom. When we stepped inside, Arabella offered me a confused look as I nodded towards the dresser top, which would have to serve as a table.
Ashur frowned for a moment before turning to me. “What do kids eat?”
That was a fair question. I turned to find six gazes staring at us in confusion, all of them on the bed and surrounded by a massive amount of blankets. I wasn’t even positive where they’d come from.
“What do all of you want to eat?”
“Ice cream?” Three asked, echoing the conversation from earlier.
Arabella grinned at her response and walked up to Ashur, listing off a few things as the kids watched eagerly.
Ashur’s magic had the food appearing out of thin air, and when he stepped back, the kids scrambled to get off the bed before Arabella insisted on bringing them it so they could keep relaxing.
I helped her grab a few things, and when the children were comfortable and well fed, I went to the door to see everyone else settling in for the flight.
For just a moment, a heavy wave of emotions hit me, making me feel like for the first time I was truly part of something larger than myself. Not just the team, but the mission of the institute overall.
When the kids finished eating and Arabella tucked them in for bed, I watched as they all closed their eyes, immediately giving into exhaustion.
My heart squeezed as I watched Arabella place another blanket on them, brushing a light kiss over Three’s forehead as the little girl clung to her arm.
After that, she seemed to accept going to sleep.
Arabella stepped back, looking over all of them with a content smile.
I met her gaze as she walked over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, resting her head on my chest with a familiarity that made it seem like we had known one another for years.
I couldn’t imagine my life without Arabella in it now. I wouldn’t want to.
Arabella let out a small yawn into my chest. I smiled, running a hand over the back of her head and pulling her against me fully.
I wanted to feel her in my arms every day and wake up next to her.
I wanted to marry my precious human. I knew that probably sounded ridiculous considering everything going on and her having other mates, but if she had been mine back in the times I was king, I would have instantly made her my queen. Hell, I would do that now.
I didn’t know how marriage would work. I knew she would never just be mine.
I had accepted that, and I somewhat welcomed these other men into my life, mostly because of how happy they made Arabella.
I couldn’t deny her happiness despite wanting to steal her away sometimes.
I felt like I could do that even if she was still with them; I would just have to let them know in advance.
I almost chuckled at that concept—what did I even make of this new life I was part of?
“What?” Arabella tilted her head up, no doubt feeling the laugh that had nearly escaped my chest. Her eyes were sleepy but happy, and I could tell she was authentically thrilled to have saved these kids.
Of course I had been hesitant to let her be in the field when it came to a real mission, especially since I’d barely been on any missions myself, but as usual, Arabella showed all of us that the best course of action was to just trust her.
“Just thinking about wanting to marry you,” I said easily.
Arabella’s eyes went wide, and she stared at me with a soft surprised look that made me confused for a moment.
Then I remembered that I seemed to have developed a habit of not holding anything back when it came to her.
Instead of being embarrassed by it, I just dipped my head and brushed her lips, Arabella letting out a soft hum and melting into me.
Zain closed the bedroom door, jostling us as he offered me a narrow-eyed glare that had Arabella giggling.
“What did you say to make her laugh like that?” Saint stood up and leaned over his jet seat with an expression of jealousy.
“I simply said I wanted to marry her—”
“Nope.”
Razar, the bastard, appeared out of nowhere and grabbed her from me, storming away to the front of the plane. “No one is marrying anyone unless we are all marrying her.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as Zain offered me a dry, unsurprised look. Razar may have been getting slightly better about sharing, but it was very much a ‘slightly.’
“We could plan a wedding,” Damian said from next to Cy and Blackwell, who were going over the weapons files.
“Do you want that, flower?” Saint asked, but Arabella was obviously being held captive by Razar, and I for one had no intention of causing a fucking problem with him.
Apparently, Ashur didn’t have the same level of patience because he looked up at Saint and back at Arabella as if willing her to answer.
Razar was distracting her as she stared at him with an amused affectionate look that made me jealous.
Okay, maybe we all had a problem when it came to her.
“Precious,” I called out, her head turning towards us with a questioning look.
“How do you feel about marriage?” Zain asked. Her cheeks turned pink.
“She feels like she’s going to marry us,” Blackwell answered for her. “End of story.”
Arabella scrambled up and shot him a look. “No. You don’t not get to be bossy about this. If you want to marry me, then I expect to be asked.”
“Marry us.”
Damian’s tone was not a question, and she shot him a narrowed playful look. “You won’t get an answer from me until you actually ask.”
“I feel like it is a pretty big deal for human women to be asked,” Cy said. I nodded, remembering how important offers of marriage were in my time as well.
“Then we will ask,” Saint said, his smile growing. “I have the perfect way.”
Why did I have a feeling that it would include some form of death or violence?