It would be difficult for me to deny her anything, unless it threatened her health. But wasn’t that the biggest issue here? It wasn’t the lack of attraction or what I would or wouldn’t do for Arabella. I mean, shit—we hadn’t stated it directly, but I felt like it was pretty obvious that any one of us would give our left fucking arm to be even next to her, let alone be with her.
No, the issue was that she was human, and that was the only thing stopping any of us from attacking her sweet ass, pinning her against a wall and taking her like a legitimate animal. But I couldn’t. We couldn’t. She was delicate. Breakable. Vulnerable. So instead we kept her insulated like an exotic flower surrounded by thorns and hoped that no one would try to take her from us. It wasn’t fair. I knew it even confused her, because she felt the draw. But the idea of her being with anyone but our team was infuriating. I mean, shit—the idea of her being with a human made me see red, but the worst threat?
Her possibly falling for a nightmare that was a Class B or C. One that wasn’t as powerful and had far more humanity. Had a far less chance of hurting her. That very real chance of her not being ours, even if it wasn’t in the way we fully wanted, was like a shock to the system each and every time. So this middle ground we had come to was just an unknown, a draw. It was temporary.
We had to figure out something, because it wasn’t fair for Arabella to live her entire life without that. Without physical affection. I knew that, and so did the others, even if they refused to admit it. Nightmares weren’t used to softness or affection—it wasn’t part of our culture—but I knew she craved it, and not giving her something… that wasn’t an option.
Then again, it wasn’t like we didn’t touch her all the time. Sleep next to her. Maybe it would be okay. Maybe we could figure out ways around it.
I let out a frustrated sound as Arabella looked back at me, confused, my emotions blanking as she slid her badge to open up the dorm. She continued to explain to Amun how to get into the room as I stepped into the familiar space that I called home.
“Everything okay?” Razar asked, walking next to me, his gaze sharpening on my expression as if sensing my internal dilemma. He was good at that, being able to sense when I or someone else was on the edge of saying something to her or fucking shit up. It was one of the reasons I still kept most of my thoughts to myself after all this time. The shit that I did want to say to her? It would only complicate everything.
I had willpower, but when she was laid out against me on the couch, running her fingers through my hair and telling me how handsome she found me? What the fuck was I supposed to say to that? I literally just soaked it in, taking every ounce of softness she offered, knowing it may be all I ever get from her.
It was also possible that Razar was poking at me because he had a bruised ego from when I knocked him on his ass earlier. Something I had done in part to make sure she didn’t get hurt in a potential fight between him and Amun… and because seeing her in a stranger’s arms had forced my temper, so the physical reaction had made me feel better. I didn’t feel bad about that.
I shrugged, offering a noncommittal response, before crossing the room and sitting down on the large, comfortable sectional that was centered in the sunken living room. The entire space was dimmed in lighting and warmly decorated, the hardwood floors matching the masculine furniture, fireplace, and wall of bookshelves. There were no windows in the dorm because it was in the center of the building, but the space still managed to feel warm instead of cold and dark.
Probably because Arabella had personally designed the space. Unlike the group of us, she was welcoming and warm enough to make up for all of our bullshit, so it was unsurprising that it was reflected in here.
My eyes ran over her frame as she stood in the middle of the room, pointing towards a massive table and a kitchen featuring an island large enough to seat several people. It was a luxurious space, and after everything I’d gone through within the past one hundred something years, it had taken weeks for me to get used to it. Get used to having a space to call my own, even. You didn’t get that while traveling or imprisoned.
Now I had a bedroom and a dorm I could legitimately call home. I just wished that it included my pixie in it. That I could wake up every morning to a wave of bright pink hair on my dark sheets and her naked frame wrapped up in my arms. It was probably smart that she didn’t live with us, because my control was already fairly weak, and I knew that if mine was bad, the others were far worse. Especially those who were younger and had less control.
Specifically, Blackwell. Everyone had seen exactly how thrilled he’d been at the concept of her having no choice but to sleep in our beds if Amun took her room, and I think that Razar would probably go out of his way to make sure she didn’t sleep in his bedroom now.
Not that he had a right to talk at fucking all—we all knew that he went to her room at night. The woman came into work with red sparkles all over her most mornings. If it wasn’t for his fear of hurting her, I think they would have been sleeping together for some time now. Somehow, though, he managed to keep control, something that impressed even me. I didn’t really trust anyone else to be able to do so… especially not myself.
But couldn’t I just have her in my bed once? Sleep with her once? I wasn’t even talking about fucking. Although, I would probably give my goddamn soul for the chance to slide into her tight warmth. I could go slow enough and keep controlled enough so that I wouldn’t risk hurting her… probably.
Fuck, one time would never be enough, though. I knew that.
I frowned as Arabella led Amun towards the hallway that featured all seven doorways, not liking that she was going into a room alone with him. I smiled as Saint followed after, clearly determined to not allow that to happen either.
Good. I may not mind Amun, but I didn’t want him alone with Arabella until he realized the risk any of us posed to her.
What would she say if she knew? If she knew that I wanted her more than I’d wanted anything in my life, but that I could never give into that need because it could kill her? I could kill her. Shit.
Letting out a tired sigh, the couch shifted as Zain threw himself down next to me, offering a knowing smile. I had no doubt he knew exactly where my head was right now, mostly because it was rarely anywhere else but on her.
“We could kill him during training and make it look like an accident.” He was attempting to act like he was joking, but I knew he was serious. Unfortunately, a choice like that began playing with the chance that Arabella would be mad at us, and that was something we avoided. Then again, on the rare occasion that she did get worked up, it was fucking glorious, the way her stormy, mismatched eyes changed and her cheeks flushed with color. It would be hard for me to find a state of being that Arabella inhabited that I didn’t find attractive.
“I’m a fan of that,” Razar stated, his eyes on the open bedroom door as Arabella pointed some stuff out to Amun. I knew Razar was doing his best to give her space and not make her feel like he was upset about the Amun thing, but I could see how much it frustrated him. Then again, anything that threatened Razar’s spot in Arabella’s life even slightly made him furious. I think sometimes he didn’t see how clearly she loved him. How clearly she felt for all of us.
I never doubted Arabella’s feelings for us, unlike some of the others. As I said, none of that was the problem. The problem was the risk we posed to her.