I shivered.
Goose bumps erupted on my neck.
What? I made a sound of confusion.
Luka’s voice darkened. “You sacrificed yourself to protect me.” He paused, “Never do that again.”
With my eyes closed, body a limp amalgamation of soup, I scoffed under my throat.
“Don’t tell me what to do,” I whispered.
Luka chuckled, and the sound was rich and deep.
He was laughing at me.
Before I could say anything else, I was jostled and lifted off the floor. Luka easily maneuvered my dead weight.
“What are you doing with her?” Malum snapped, and his gravelly voice echoed like a shot.
We stopped with me hanging in his arms midair.
A long moment passed, and it seemed like Luka wasn’t going to answer.
Scorpius muttered something derogatory under his breath.
When Luka spoke, his words held no room for argument. “She’s going to bed,” he said like he was declaring war.
Malum’s voice was filled with fury. “Put her in our bed.”
If I had any energy left, I would have launched out of Luka’s arms in feminine outrage and kicked Malum’s ass.
“No,” I mumbled weakly.
My lips were chapped from panting, and the words didn’t come out as harshly as I would have wanted.
Sad.
Luka’s fingers tightened.
“If she needs to lie in a bed,” Malum said roughly, “She can lie in ours, not yours. She’s slept with us before.”
I muttered, “There’s no space.”
Scorpius snarled, “We’ll make space for you.”
Orion whispered something quietly that I couldn’t hear.
“She’s coming to my bed. I have the space,” Luka growled as he gently laid me down onto a warm mattress. He pulled the covers up under my chin, then slowly tucked the bedding under my legs.
There was a low hiss and a sizzling sound. I didn’t have to open my eyes to know with 100 percent certainty that Malum was on fire.
We all needed help, but he really needed help. The type only a fae fire department could give.
A moment later, Luka was pulling fuzzy socks over my feet. “These are my favorite pair,” he whispered softly.
Déjà vu hit me like a punch to the face.
When I was destroyed after the first challenge, John had taken care of me.
The twins are the only men who’ve ever consistently shown me kindness and support.
They knew me. Saw me at my worst. And unlike every other male I’d ever known, they stayed by my side.
They cared.
Even Sadie’s men were only friendly with me out of an obligation to their mate. I knew that.
The twins had no obligation to be kind. Yet that was all they’d ever been.
Luka tucked the comforter under my feet and said, “I better not see you take these socks off. You’ve been shivering a lot lately.”
Pressure welled.
Tears spilled down my cheeks, and my lips parted on a silent sob.
“What?” Luka’s hand stroked my forehead. “Please don’t cry.”
He was being so nice to me.
His words had the opposite effect of what he was going for.
I sobbed harder. Curling onto my side, I buried my head in a pillow and shook from the force of the emotions burning through my chest.
I was on fire, but the flames came from within.
I missed when I’d felt nothing.
The haze was nice.
This was hell.
“Aran, please.” Luka gingerly crawled into the bed and scooped me into his arms so his front was to my back. I was pressed against him and the wall.
His muscled frame blocked me from the rest of the room.
He enveloped me.
Completely.
Protectively.
I turned and cried into his chest, careful to make no noise so I didn’t alert the rest of the room that I was being pathetic.
On the floor, the demons thrashed and moaned in pain. The kings panted with exhaustion as they pulled needles and threads through skin with expert precision.
I cried because for the first time in my life, I knew two men I really liked.
Sun god help me.
By some small miracle, no one but Luka noticed I was breaking down. His arms surrounded me, but they rested against me lightly like he was afraid I’d break if he touched me too hard.
“Sorry,” I whispered into his chest as I soaked his bloody shirt with pathetic tears.
Luka leaned forward and pressed his lips against my ears so only I could hear him. “Don’t you dare apologize for crying.”
Of course I cried harder.
Luka groaned like I was hurting him and whispered, “You know, I thought Aran was the coolest guy I’d ever met.”
I hiccuped and bit down on my fist to quiet myself. Warm, callused fingers tangled in my curls, and Luka palmed the back of my head. He pulled me closer and said, “And now I think Arabella is the coolest woman.”
I blinked up at him.
The corners of his mouth pulled up into a small smile, and he transformed from an unapproachable grouch into a breathtakingly handsome man.
Another sob welled inside me.
I reached my fingers forward and trailed them across his face.
He was missing dimples.
My voice was raspy from sobbing as I replied, “You’re pretty cool yourself. Even if you’re not John’s alter ego.”
“Trust me, sweetheart.” Luka pressed his hips forward until he was flush against me. “I’m my own man.”
A zing of pain shot down my spine.
Before I could do something disturbing, Luka closed his eyes. “Go to sleep, my little dictator.”
My heart beat a thousand miles per second at his casual use of my.
I scoffed, “Why does everyone keep calling me little? I’m six four in heels.”
He chuckled, and the sound vibrated through his chest. “Sure you are.”
I felt safer than I had in my life as I drifted off against him. “I literally am.”
A bicep flexed against my side like Luka was trying to show off his muscles. “Whatever you want to believe, Your Highness.”
Sleepily I argued, “I can’t tell if you’re being ironically disrespectful or sweet.”
There was a long pause. “If I were disrespecting you, you’d know it.”
I stilled.
Convinced I’d heard him wrong.
I opened my eyes. “What?”
Luka pressed his hand over my face like he was mock suffocating me and ordered, “Shut the fuck up and go to sleep.”
The grouch was back.
I debated causing a scene, but exhaustion had me closing my eyes and whispering, “Maybe you do have a personality disorder.”
Luka pressed his lips to my forehead. “Whatever you need to believe to sleep at night, dictator.”
It was the softest kiss in the history of kisses.
Like a butterfly’s wing.
It felt like someone had stabbed my spine. Pure. White hot. Agony.
I curled my toes in my fuzzy socks and smiled, and for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t fake.
In my imagination, Scorpius asked, “Is she all right? I heard her crying.”
Orion made a sound of distress.
“She was crying?” Malum asked brokenly like the thought of me in tears did something to him.
Clearly, I was creating false scenarios because I knew the kings didn’t actually care about me.