Page 8 of Loving Nightmares
“We don’t have much time,” she said, sitting up further and shifting her legs to the side of the bed, intent on getting up. “I need a meeting in twenty-five down in the conference room. We need to talk about what technology we have to fight against their weaponry and our plans moving forward. I also need to know how many people have been injured by the guns and if they need someone to heal them or if we’ve found a different way to help them. Hopefully we have been working on something.” Arabella looked at our faces expectantly.
After a long moment, I muttered a curse. “Fine. Fuck it, let’s have a meeting. Blackwell, Damian, Zain, and Amun, go get everyone. Cy, Ashur, and Saint, let’s get numbers for how many are injured.” I could tell they wanted to argue, but the determination in Arabella’s gaze pushed everyone into action.
I had seen this look in my mate’s gaze before, this type of focus. It was both really hot and more than a bit concerning, but I knew without a doubt that Arabella would go to war for the nightmares and home that she loved.
And I would go to war for Arabella.
4
ARABELLA
“Hey, Razar?”A small surprised noise left my lips as the man appeared right behind me in the mirror. He’d been looking out the window by my desk, then was across my room and into the bathroom where I’d been getting ready, all in a mere second. I shouldn’t have been surprised. I was mostly used to it, but the intense concern on his face had me feeling a bit off. I wasn’t used to seeing him look so unraveled.
Despite my reassurances, I knew I would never be able to completely remove that look from any of their faces, but especially not Razar’s. I saw guilt there as well, which I hated but knew was unavoidable because of his intense sense of protectiveness when it came to me.
Something I loved, truth be told—except when it put him this on edge.
“Yes?” he asked, his low, rough voice rolling over my skin as his crimson eyes darkened to a deep maroon on the edges. Sometimes it blew my mind that this night terror had been with me my entire life, that I had been given such an amazing blessing from the fates in the form of both a friend and so much more.Although how I had managed to not attack him until recently was beyond me.
His large hand came over my hip as if knowing where my thoughts were, his gaze dipping along my neckline where my shirt hung a bit lower than normal, showing off a hint of cleavage. It had been an attempt at a more ‘badass’ outfit to inspire bravery during the battle, and it had the unintentional effect of showing off the edge of the bite mark he’d left on the swell of my breast. It was something I wore as a badge of honor, so I didn’t mind in the least, and I was thrilled because the bite mark didn’t seem to bother him nearly as much as the bruises he’d left on me.
I wasn’t sure what I would’ve done if he hadn’t been able to stand the sight of his mating mark. Each mark from each of my mates was so incredibly special, and the sleeveless tank I wore, crafted from soft molded leather, showcased almost all of them. Ashur’s wolf necklace sat right against my throat, and I felt like it almost directly drew attention to the skull on my sternum from Saint, despite it not being currently visible.
Along my throat also sat a patch of snakeskin from Cy that flashed in the light but was slightly less noticeable than the way my scar glittered with a ruby light from Zain. Not only that, but underneath my scar was a permanent black heart from Damian, as well as a pink ring around the iris of my silvery white eye. Both it and the scar had bothered me for so long, but no more. Now I was proud of it because two of my mates had embellished the scar in a possessive and claiming way. My gaze momentarily dipped to the bracelet tattooed on my wrist from Amun, loving the way it decorated my skin. I wished the brands on my hips from Blackwell were just as visible, but I had purposefully worn low-rise jeans so they would peek over the top—I knew he would like that.
“Arabella.” Razar kissed my ear, drawing me back into the present.
“Sorry, just appreciating all my marks,” I admitted. I turned into him and let my head fall back, looking all the way up into his handsome face. “I was just going to say I’m ready to go.”
“I want to keep you locked up in this room and pinned to the ceiling until I handle everything going on outside,” Razar said point-blank, exhaling sharply as if he had been holding it in. “I don’t want you to be part of any of this shit. I want you to be safe and forget it’s even fucking happening.”
He closed his eyes and groaned, putting his head down. “But I can’t and won’t stop you. I just need you to promise me that you’ll be careful, Arabella.”
“I will,” I said softly, thankful that he seemed to understand how important this was to me. “I’m always safe with you.”
His energy pulsed around me, always seeming to love when I said anything like that, as he nodded sharply.
A knock on the door had us both looking over to find Amun standing in the doorway. He looked amused, but I wasn’t sure why. Razar let out a frustrated groan before shaking his head, pissed at being disturbed. Dipping his head, he pressed a hard kiss to my lips before storming past Amun, going back into my bedroom to finish whatever he had been doing, presumably.
“I didn’t even say anything,” Amun grumbled, causing my lips to press up. I wouldn’t lie, I had no idea how the mummy kept getting into the middle of fights or becoming the brunt of violence, but it was becoming a bit funny. Not funny because he was getting hurt, but more because he seemed so grumpy about it.
Not mad—justliterallygrumpy about it.
“I think everyone is a bit on edge,” I said as the legend terror approached, his fluorescent green eyes running over me and focusing on my wrist with a hum of approval. Amun hadn’tchanged out of his uniform, and while he technically matched everyone else, there was a distinctly rougher note to him. His dark, shoulder-length hair was wild looking, and the scars that covered what I could see of his skin, despite being covered in tattoos, only added to the effect. The man was thousands of years old, and while that side came out often, there was another that was a lot more curious and lighthearted.
It was a side that when all of this was over, I hoped he could let out more.
“Rightfully so—they are attacking our home.” Amun cupped my jaw, and I broke into a massive smile. Part of it was what he said, but it was also the sensation of being surrounded by his scent of parchment and oil.
He tilted his head with a curious look. “What made you smile, precious?”
“You called it ‘our’ home.”
“It is my home.You’remy home,” he said, leaning into my touch as my fingers ran up his jaw.
From the moment I met Amun, I’d felt a connection, a rightness, and him calling this place his home only solidified the truth. The truth I had felt when I had let him mark me, when I had let him kiss me, when I had, from the beginning, let his magic roll against mine despite the danger.
“Amun?”
