Fuck.
I groaned as my body was slammed back against the wall of Arabella’s bedroom, the walls shaking at the impact as the lights next to her bed flickered. Razar’s snarl filled the space as I offered him a distasteful look. I was really not in the mood for this bullshit right now.
“What the fuck did you do?” Razar demanded sharply, his black eyes filled with absolute fury. Goddamn psycho.
“Razar.” Arabella’s voice was soft and understanding as some of the others joined us, looking far more confused and less worked up. “Seriously, I am perfectly fine!”
“What the fuck did you do to her?” Razar’s voice was sharp and dark. Unfortunately, Arabella’s frustration paired with my own inner need for dominance won out, and instead of staying relaxed, my magic began to fill the space.
“Nothing she didn’t want,” I goaded, a sneer taking over my face as Saint chuckled from where he sat by my love.
“Black,” Damian offered in a warning tone.
“If you fucking hurt her—” Razar’s snarl was cut off by Arabella standing up on the bed to gain attention.
“I’m literally fine!” she exclaimed, but I knew he wasn’t hearing shit except the rage rolling through him.
“I didn’t hurt her,” I leveled, my gaze meeting his and realizing that I was officially over him trying to control every element of her life. I didn’t disagree about her safety being important, but she was a grown fucking woman. “I did mark her though.”
That would probably do it.
“What?” Razar hissed, the room filling with voices at the information as I saw Saint attempt to tug Arabella towards him, no doubt wanting to see the brand.
“I said I fucking marked her.” I stepped closer to him, my magic flaring out as my forearms lit up with black and gold flames, reaching the point where I knew this was about to turn into a very real fight. There was nothing he could do about this. It was what it was. She was marked.
Arabella was mine.
I wasn’t surprised, though, when without any magic associated with it, he punched me hard enough in the face that my head snapped back. I let out a groan when it collided with the wall.
Bastard. Absolute bastard.
A laugh came out of me, unable to stop myself, as I swiped at the blood that was coming from my nose, the gold metallic substance glinting and making Arabella let out a soft worried noise.
“You aren’t any goddamn better than any of us, Razar. We all know what the hell happened between you two after coming back yesterday. Plus, I’m not the only one that has marked her. Cy literally fucking marked her neck.”
Razar let out a low snarl, walking back across the room before I turned my attention to Cy, who had blinked across the room towards Arabella at a speed even I found impressive.
“I did what?” he asked curiously, his voice filled with something I didn’t understand.
“Marked her.” Saint shook his head as Arabella pulled away her hair to reveal the silver snakeskin-like mark that had my teammate freezing.
I didn’t pay attention to his reaction, though, because Saint was suddenly gently tugging down the edge of her yoga pants now that she was distracted with Cy. His brows shot up. He was careful to not touch my mark on her, my body going tense at the idea of anyone touching her. It would probably go away, but right now I felt extremely territorial. Razar’s eyes narrowed on the markings.
“I didn’t know that was possible,” Cy noted as she watched him with a slightly sad expression, but he didn’t catch it. I knew she thought he was regretting it, but that was far from the truth. No, I could see exactly how happy Cy was, and I was impressed the bastard had the ability to keep his shit together, especially considering the tense nature of the current situation.
“Seriously?” Damian was scowling at me in reference to the markings. My smile grew, because I knew he was only upset that he hadn’t done the same. Nightmares all marked their mates in different ways… he was just jealous that I’d actually done it.
“Can we just take a moment and relax? I haven’t even had coffee,” Arabella pointed out.
Cy walked across the room towards her small coffee bar that she had with a mini-fridge containing food and some chilled drinks. The woman had enough of a setup that if she wanted to work here for several days straight, she could… not that we would let her, because we are needy motherfuckers, but it would be possible. I watched her smile at Cy’s action of starting the coffeemaker, making me jealous that I hadn’t thought of that.
“You are really just waking up?” Zain asked curiously. I suppose it was a bit odd since Arabella rarely slept in. I knew he was also trying to distract himself from the scent of her desire that still filled the space from when we were in bed moments ago, probably causing them to be uncomfortable and turned on.
Once again, not my problem.
“Yes, long night,” I explained.
My eyes flickered to Amun, who was leaning against the far wall, watching all of this with curiosity. His gaze moved across her two marks with an expression that wasn’t exactly anger, but he didn’t look pleased, either.
“We got drunk.” Arabella yawned, sitting back down on the bed. Saint was still splayed out on it, as if none of this was a surprise to him, and began to play with her hair.
“You marked her when she was fucking drunk?” Razar hissed in realization.
I narrowed my eyes. “One, I was drunk as well—”
“You still took advantage of her—”
My patience ran out, and I knocked his ass to the ground, hitting him right where he’d hit me, returning the favor. I barely heard Arabella’s exasperated sigh as he snarled and managed to score a solid hit right to my abdomen, knocking the wind from me for a moment. I cursed, going to hit him again, but suddenly I was literally thrown across the room, hitting the wall again as I slid down it.
Motherfucker, today was not my day. Clearly, hangovers were not a good idea while trying to fight other nightmares.
“Fucking hell,” I groaned.
“Stop,” Amun growled as I realized he was the one that managed to throw us apart. Razar slumped on the other side of the room, looking pissed but tired as well. “You’re upsetting precious.”
“Precious?” I chuckled despite the tense nature of this situation as Arabella shot me an amused scowl. I put my hands up in mock defense.
This fighting between Razar and I wasn’t exactly unusual, for the record. It wasn’t usually because of something like this, but considering we were pretty evenly matched, it made training way easier. I also knew it was probably making him feel a bit better.
Plus, I wasn’t about to sit around and let him accuse me of taking advantage of my mate. Asshole knew I would never pull that shit, let alone with Arabella.
“I’m not letting this go,” Razar snarled, and I saw hurt flash in his eyes.
Realization hit me on why he was so upset. First, he knew Arabella and him were still on thin ice, and considering she didn’t even have him in her room last night like normal, this had probably struck a nerve with him. Secondly, I had literally done the exact opposite of what he had yesterday. Where he was restrained, I’d given in. Finally, he was a possessive motherfucker and jealous that he wasn’t the first to mark her. Yet despite knowing his reasons, I not only didn’t regret it, but found myself pissed that he was clearly upsetting Arabella.