I wanted to swear and have a fit, but I didn’t want to wake up my mates.
John climbed into his bed and grabbed Arabella around her waist. He tucked her flush against him, and she mumbled contentedly in her sleep.
He traced his thumb slowly across her cheekbone possessively and smirked back at me.
I swallowed a growl.
Mine.
Rubbing with annoyance at the tattoo on my hip, I turned to my mates and lay down beside them. Both my Revered and Protector immediately turned in their sleep and wrapped themselves around me.
I held them. Tightly.
Conflicted emotions scoured against my psyche.
Lately my emotions were getting so intense that it was scaring me. A part of me was terrified that the tattoo was warping my mind.
At the end of the day, even if Arabella was all grumpy and brave in an endearing way, she was still just a fae woman.
She wasn’t my mate.
But she was my teammate, and I respected the way she’d handled herself in the challenges. She wasn’t pampered and spoiled like I’d first thought. She’d suffered and overcome abuse.
In a lot of ways, she reminded me of Scorpius.
Their suffering had changed them into creatures that embraced pain. Scorpius was addicted to the physical kind. Aran was addicted to the mental kind.
A crushing sensation expanded in my chest as I glowered over at John.
My head was jumbled.
Fear spiked in my gut that the tattoo was making me act a certain way and in reality, I would feel nothing for Arabella.
She was nothing but a woman, after all.
I cared for her as a teammate; that was it. It would never be anything more.
I squeezed my arms and pressed a kiss to the top of Orion’s soft blond hair. The men lying in my arms were all that mattered in my life.
Nothing would change that. Ever.
I wouldn’t let it.
Chapter 45
Aran
THE SHOWCASE
Rebirth—Day 58, hour 10
I was sandwiched between the twins.
We followed the rest of our legion as we walked toward the arena.
The rocks from the island were sharp beneath my callused feet. Water lazily drifted out with the tide, and a few white clouds meandered across the maroon sky.
It was a calm day.
If it weren’t for the occasional glass shard glinting off black rock, I would have believed the storm had been a figment of my imagination. A horrible nightmare.
It was easy to imagine that I was trapped in a psych ward somewhere drawing on the wall muttering about legions and the gods.
Pain lanced across the wounds covering my back as if to punctuate how real it all had been. Bruises and cuts throbbed with every step I took.
John’s arm was draped over my shoulder, and he fingered the necklace he’d given me.
I narrowed my eyes up at him. Was he my best friend in the psych ward? Or maybe he was my rival and we both had a crush on the same male nurse.
Sun god, I hoped the nurse chose me.
Luka glanced down at me every few steps. His gaze flitted over my face and John’s arm.
John nudged me. “We got this, Aran. Everything’s going to be fine.” He squeezed me to offer encouragement.
“Are we locked up in a room together?” I blurted up at him.
John didn’t falter he just flashed his dimples. “I hope so, that sounds pretty hot.”
Luka frowned and said nothing.
I sighed and let it go. Pulled my pipe out of my pants and closed my eyes while I inhaled greedily. Drugs flooded my lungs, and my hands trembled at my sides.
Pretending wouldn’t change reality.
With every step I took toward the arena, the noose around my throat tightened until I gasped desperately for air.
I asphyxiated.
It wasn’t funny anymore.
Squeezing my eyes as tight as possible, I stopped walking and whispered, “I can’t do this again.”
I fell to my knees.
Gravity crushed me to the rocks.
I shivered.
A person could only take so much.
I couldn’t step into that arena. Not again.
I refused.
Warmth surrounded me. I blinked, and I was wrapped up in powerful arms.
John and Luka knelt next to me and hugged me like they could squeeze the fear away.
“Aran, listen to me.” John pressed his lips against my temple. “It’s only one more challenge. One more contest and you’ve survived.” He breathed harshly. “What’s been done to you is”—his voice cracked—“so fucked up. But we just have to play their game a little longer. And I promise you, once we’re free, we’ll hunt down the gods to get retribution, if that’s what you want.”
I pressed my head against Luka’s chest.
“But I can’t,” I said pathetically.
Luka said gruffly, “We can leave this place right now. You don’t need to do this.”
John and I stilled.
“Really?” I pulled my head back and stared into his hooded dark eyes.
Luka nodded. “Just say the word. And we’re gone.”
John had told him about the word on my back, and ever since he’d found out about it, he’d been falling all over himself to help me in any way he could.
John nuzzled against the side of my face and sighed tiredly. “Technically we could leave, but the gods will hunt her. It won’t be safe.”
“We’ll keep her safe,” Luka said fiercely.
My eyes widened.
The twins held me tenderly and casually offered to defy the gods.
The man crucified to the sacred tree flashed through my mind. John and Luka would risk that for me.
The choking sensation around my throat transformed into something warm.
Moisture welled in my eyes, and a tear dripped across the bruises and cuts that marred my face.
I blurted out, “I love you guys.” My face warmed with embarrassment.
I tried to hide my eyes behind my arm, but John pulled my wrists back so I couldn’t hide.
“Aran, look at me,” he said roughly.
Tentatively I looked up at him.
“I’ve already told you why I call you bestie.” John’s smile wobbled. “Because I love you, dude. I have since the moment I woke up to find you above me on the cot, choking me out. The moment you opened your perfect lips and blamed me for your violence, I was a goner.”
A watery laugh escaped my lips.
John pulled me closer. “I loved you when you were a pretty boy. I loved you as a breathtaking woman, and I love you right now, my little wounded warrior. I will always love you.”
Luka nodded silently beside him.
Tears poured from my eyes.
It all felt so romantic.
We were teammates training and competing in awful circumstances. The twins never asked to date me or bought me flowers.
Maybe I was delusional, but I couldn’t imagine caring for someone as much as I cared for them at this moment.
I choked on a sob.
Wasn’t love caring for someone more than you cared about yourself? It was about being there for them. Standing up for them. Laughing with them. Love made the darkest days feel brighter.
The twins were that for me.
Sometimes it felt like I’d just met Luka, then I remembered I’d known him for months. Lived beside him. He’d been there as much as John.
I didn’t care that we didn’t call one another “baby” and whisper soft words as we touched each other. I didn’t care if John meant love in a platonic, friendship way.