Page 6 of Loving Nightmares
I should have been better today. Better at protecting her.
Luckily, it seemed my teammates were able to keep their shit together more than I was currently managing. Blackwell, Damian, and Saint shouted commands to the nightmares around us, mostly focused on the injured that needed medical attention. I had no idea how many of our people had been hit with those weapons. I was hoping none, but I knew that was highly unlikely.
“Razar, careful to not jostle her,” Zain said. He was walking by my side, staring down at Arabella’s unconscious form. If it had been any of the other men, I may have been defensive, but I knew Zain wasn’t saying it in an accusatory way. I could see the concern sketched across his face, so rather than barking a retort, I tightened my hold on her, avoiding touching her arms where the burns were the worst, as well as her face. They were alreadyhealing, the wounds turning less angry in color, but it didn’t make me feel better. Not at fucking all.
“I already called healers to their private suites,” Cy said, nodding towards the elevator. I was thankful for that. As much as I wouldn’t have minded going to the healing center, I preferred for Arabella and her father to have privacy, especially because them being injured would only cause more strife and panic throughout the institute.
As we entered the elevator, our group was silent, the tension so thick it was nearly suffocating. I could feel the guilt radiating off of everyone. Blackwell stood next to me, nearly vibrating with anger—no doubt at himself, mostly. I eyed him cautiously, wondering if I needed to put some distance between Arabella and him.
“I’m fine,” he said through a clenched jaw, as if knowing exactly where my thoughts were.
“You don’t seem fine,” I tried to say evenly, but the sound that came from his chest told me he’d taken it offensively. I didn’t bother apologizing, knowing that he wouldn’t care once he got some perspective. Probably.
“Our mate has burns on her,” Blackwell snapped. “Do you feel fucking fine, Razar?”
“No,” I bit out. “No, I don’t.”
“She’s healing,” Ashur pointed out. He appeared to be conflicted on how to feel about that, probably because it didn’t change the fact that we’d allowed her to get hurt in the first place. “Her injuries are only half as bad as they were before.”
“We should have kept her off the battlefield,” Saint of all fucking people said, halting the conversation as we all turned to stare at him. His gaze was on Arabella, looking damn near panicked. That was when I realized that none of us had seen Arabella hurt before—not like this—and it was causing our team to malfunction. Everyone was mostly keeping their shit togetherin this confined space, but the minute she was being taken care of…
“You never worry about her.”
“I am always focused on her well-being,” Saint snapped at Damian. “This is the first time she’s gotten hurt that hasn’t been because of pleasure.”
Fuck.
“Let’s get her to the healers,” Amun suggested, playing peacekeeper. “She’s going to be okay, but I agree—I don’t think she should be on the battlefield…even if she’s upset about that.”
I nodded, for once in agreement with the several thousand-year-old bastard, and everyone else offered small forms of agreement as well—except for Cy. He stood silently on my other side, not offering his opinion either way, and I knew why. He would agree with whatever Arabella wanted.
The minute we were off the elevator and he disappeared, I realized I was wrong about his reaction—at least partly. We all looked at each other, wide-eyed, as a crash sounded in the distance.Cy was losing his shit. I don’t think I’d ever seen that happen before.
This was bad. I carried Arabella towards her room, Zain following with the Director, and the others split between coming with us and going to help our teammate. I had no doubt they could handle calming down Cy—Saint was particularly good at it—but it still made me feel like shit for not being able to be in two places at once. I may get frustrated with the bastards around me, but at the end of the day, we were family.
A family centered around Arabella.
Another crash sounded as I walked through the door of Arabella’s bedroom. Zain went to her father’s suite, two different medical teams present. I let out an annoyed sound at so many people in her space, smelling her perfect scent, but I tried to push past that. At least they were all female nightmares.
I laid her down on the bed, and they immediately moved towards her. I stepped back and crossed my arms, not willing to go farther from her than that. Ashur stood next to me, and though I didn’t know the creationist well, I could admit that I found it easier to accept him than even Amun…at least at first.
I knew it was because I had sensed from the start that Amun wanted to take Arabella from us, but Ashur didn’t seem to want that, nor had it seemed to cross his mind. Instead he appeared to just want to be around her, which I understood completely. As long as he accepted that Arabella belonged with us, then he could be part of that ‘us.’Ifthat was what Arabella wanted.
“Could you grab her a larger shirt than this?” one of the healers asked, looking down at her tight clothing. I moved to go get it, but Ashur was already walking towards the closet. I didn’t bother stopping him, smiling to myself because honestly—Arabella’s closet was a damn near shocking sight. Not only was it huge, but there was a secondary wing just for shoes.
I had no idea why I loved her obsession with the pointy, dangerous heels she always wore, but I did. I nearly let out a low rumble, imagining her long legs wrapped around my waist with only heels on—
“She’s healing?” one of the healers asked, offering us a baffled look. Most likely because they thought she was human.
I considered how to answer that, but before I could say anything, Amun spoke up, having joined us along with Damian and Zain. “I have the ability to help heal her to an extent, but it won’t fix everything.”
The healers seemed to accept that, not questioning him as I nodded in agreement, appreciative of his choice to not expose what Arabella was. I had a feeling that Arabella planned to tell everyone eventually—she didn’t like secrets as a general policy—but I wanted her to be able to make that choice.
“Thank you,” one of the healers said as she took a pile of clothing from Ashur. He nodded sharply and came to stand with the rest of us, watching them work.
“Is it common for females to own so many shoes now?”
Damian and Zain broke into laughter, Amun frowning and going to look for himself. A smile pulled at my lips.No,it was not common, but neither was Arabella. It was one of many reasons I loved her.
