Chapter 2
Chapter Two
ARABELLA
I wanted to be pissed that he’d put me in a literal fucking bubble, but I was too in awe of my mates to care.
I had watched my men fight from the other side of the camera for so long, but watching it from here, from the protection of this bubble Mykia had created for my safety…
it was something completely different. It was like I was watching a show in startling detail, my head turning from side to side, my eyes somehow able to track their movements.
I was going to wager it was one of those advanced abilities that had appeared with mating my nightmares. I mean, I wasn’t going to complain about it, especially if it made me more durable so that my mates wouldn’t have to worry so much.
My mates. Despite the timing, I couldn’t help but let my gaze run over Razar appreciatively, since he was nearest to me on the battlefield.
Right now, my night terror looked nothing like the 6’7” tattooed man I saw walking around the institute every day.
Sure, he was wearing his ISS combat uniform, but that was all that was the same.
The rest was…so incredibly him in nightmare form.
He was surrounded by black tendrils, his gaze a vibrant crimson and his muscular body covered in a veiny exoskeleton that hid his bronze skin embedded with red sparkles.
I had seen so many sides of the man, from the one who had been my best friend for as long as I could remember to a much darker and more predatory version that enjoyed trying to scare me.
Most recently, though, I’d seen a side I’d craved for so damn long, one that threw caution to the wind and took me exactly as he wanted, savagely and true to his nightmare instincts.
The side that didn’t mind leaving marks on me, that loved them as much as I did.
The side that had invaded every single part of me—literally.
Razar stalked across the battlefield, vibrating with a level of aggression that, I wouldn’t even bother lying, completely turned me on.
I thought I’d seen him fight with Saint, but that had been impassioned and angry.
The way he fought now was calculating as he used his tendrils to throw soldier after soldier to the ground, rendering them unconscious with a simple movement.
Parts of him that had been used for my pleasure were now a lethal weapon.
As if knowing I was watching, his crimson eyes darted to me as a deep, rolling rumble left his chest—right as blood splattered everywhere, piercing the chest of a soldier aiming one of those weapons right at…me.
Oh, that did not make Razar happy. Honestly, the savage display had my heart fluttering as I offered a small smile. The concern in his gaze, probably at my reaction, was instantly replaced with surprise and then heat.
I loved the heat element.
“Focus, Razar!”
Damian’s voice was sharp, drawing Razar’s attention back to the onslaught of humans flooding the battlefield.
My men were trying their best to not kill the humans, choosing to knock them unconscious instead, especially since we knew they were under an outside influence that made them act in a way they probably wouldn’t normally.
Unfortunately, that wasn’t always possible, a situation that was exacerbated by the new weapons, the sheer amount of soldiers they fought against, and the possibility of aerial attacks.
Still, they were trying, and I could tell Damian was having to put a concerted amount of effort into it.
The heir to Hell was fully shifted into his onyx nightmare form, lava-like lines crossing the breaks in the stone and pulsating with dangerous magic.
His tail, the one that had held me so carefully, whipped around dangerously, sweeping humans off their feet.
The movement was actually rather graceful compared to the brutal blows he could deliver with his tail’s sharp edge, if he so chose.
His eyes were a vibrant pink, unlike when he was in human form, and the sensation of violence rolling off of him was different from the overbearing, romance-loving man I knew he could be.
I felt oddly protective over the special softness he showed me, which was hilarious considering my 5’1” stature didn’t really qualify me to protect anyone or anything.
“Hey, flower!” Saint called out, causing me to turn around.
The bubble vibrated with the force of an attack he exchanged with nearly thirty humans at once as he tried to make his way towards War and my father.
Despite his lighthearted tone, I could tell he was worried, and that made me…
well, really freakin’ worried, because Saint was never in a serious mood.
Well…except when he was talking about how he felt about me. But that was different from this.
“Yes?” I replied, narrowing my eyes at the man who had somehow convinced Mykia to lock me up. The hellfox was pacing back and forth in front of me, looking proud of herself. As frustrated as I was, I had to admit it was pretty damn adorable.
The smile Saint threw me, his silver-streaked black hair ruffling in the wind, was not nearly as adorable—it was knowing and wicked.
Still beautiful though. It was hard to believe he was immortal sometimes, because we really did look the same age, but there was no denying it—the man was Death itself.
Something that would be far more obvious if he was in his nightmare form, the literal Grim Reaper.
A form that I found way too attractive and interesting since I was, unfortunately, mortal. But I didn’t let myself go down that train of thought…
“I know this may be a bit much for you.” He chuckled to himself, his dark charcoal eyes flashing a vibrant silver like a light was being shone behind them. “Although probably not! But if it is, flower, just remember—this is fantastic for your garden!”
I snorted before he could even finish, not surprised in the least he would make a joke right now, let alone that one. Then again, knowing Saint as I did, I was well aware that it wasn’t really a joke. He was probably genuinely excited for how this could help my garden. Honestly, it was a bit sweet.
Morbid, but sweet.
If there was anyone who knew about death, it was my god terror mate. Humans fell around him, dead—he wasn’t holding back like the others—and I had to wonder just how many of them were under War’s thrall. It felt like an endless stream from where I stood.
“What garden?” Amun asked, his booming voice loud enough to be heard over the melee.
He appeared right next to Saint, plucking a normal bullet from mid-air before it could pierce Death.
While not needed, it was a nice move, and I could sense that despite not shifting, the mummy’s magic was fully out to play, his entire body pulsating with a green aura that matched his fluorescent-green eyes. It was addicting to watch.
“That doesn’t make me like you,” Saint grumbled while slamming his hand into one of the soldiers, their chest cavity exploding, literally.
Okay, maybe he needed to sit this one out…if we were trying to save lives, that is.
Answering Amun’s question, he growled, “The garden I wanted to bury you in. You can thank flower for your current existence.”
Amun barked out a genuine laugh before tossing me a smile and continuing to fight side by side with Saint.
While the two of them seemed night and day in so many ways, they worked together flawlessly.
Amun’s death magic saturated the area as the ground absorbed each of Saint’s kills in a beautiful, twisted way.
Amun’s wrappings kept other humans tied to the ground, his magic running over them until they were unconscious, then quickly releasing.
His dark hair shifted around his rough, handsome face as he focused on those around him and calculated his next move, the intensity and lethality making me feel exhilarated.
I totally wasn’t thinking about those bindings tying me up in bed… Nope, not at all.
“Saint! Don’t kill Amun,” I called out as my attention was pulled to Cy, his basilisk form drawing a ton of attention as men around him scrambled to get out of the way.
That was before his magic infected them, causing them to scream as they grabbed their eyes and whimpered, blood leaking down their faces.
His magic slammed into the bubble, and Mykia growled but stayed strong.
Cy’s scales glittered under the moonlight, giving me an excellent view of the true darkness he was capable of.
The quiet, intense man was normally controlled, at least until it came to me, but right now he was anything but.
Gone were the silver eyes streaked with a hypnotic mint green, gone were the silver piercings and white hair with dark green ends.
Instead the beast that lived within him had burst out of his skin and was roaming the battlefield in defense of our home.
While this form wasn’t nearly as easy for us to interact in, I absolutely loved seeing it.
He was amazing in both human and nightmare form—something I would continue to tell him.
“Can’t promise anything!” Saint shouted as something flew by in my peripheral. Only Blackwell’s curse and sudden appearance made me realize it was my father’s unconscious form. Fuck. Blackwell caught him easily as Mykia barked, causing the legend terror to turn and offer her a speculative look.
Before I could ask what she was trying to communicate, a sonic blast of power soared into us and Mykia sent out ten times the power she had before, turning the bubble into a golden shell, blocking out everything around us.
A fine mist filled the air and I had to close my eyes.
As I blinked, trying to open them again, I saw flashes of a small form here with us…
a small human form. Maybe it was Mykia? Had she shifted?
“Arabella.” Blackwell’s voice was filled with a level of panic I hadn’t heard before. “Where are you? Are you okay?”