I stood up, nearly crashing into Finias, who was standing over me staring down at Ama. His eyes tracked the bruises on her, and he muttered something under his breath before rounding the bed and getting in with her. I felt a surge of envy at how he felt the right to be so close to her—to touch her like that. I turned away from him, smoothing her hair as he watched her with what I could only call love.
Someone was going to die for hurting Ama. I had never felt so violent in my life. I paused on that thought. Would I really kill someone for this? Even if it was my own family that had given the command? The crisis felt overwhelming, and I put my head down, trying to center myself as I ran a hand through my hair in a nervous gesture.
“If we hadn’t been busy fucking fighting, she would have never been alone,” Damien’s voice was low and dark as he narrowed his eyes at Drayven. Colt ran a hand over his face, sitting down against the wall as he stared at the bed but didn’t approach. Adrien clearly didn’t feel the same way, because he walked over, leaving me with Damien and Drayven.
Drayven offered Damien a sneer and looked back at the bed, his eyes locking onto Finias. I stepped in front of him. “Stop. Just fucking stop it.”
“The assassin was from his fucking house. He admitted it,” Drayven growled.
Adrien was there, then, he got in Drayven’s space, making the reaper step back. The Wraith’s voice was cold and low, “If you wake up Ama after the experience she just had, I will remove your eyelids so that you never sleep again. Are we clear?”
Drayven grunted, and Adrien appeared back at Ama’s side. I ran a hand through my hair, feeling both oddly relieved Adrien had said something to Drayven and equally terrified. Both Finias and Adrien scared me in good measure. I was man enough to admit that.
“Listen,” I directed my conversation to Damien, Drayven, and Colt. The Fallen Angel was listening, despite his gaze being focused on the wall ahead of him, seemingly zoned out. I had no idea what was going on in his head, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“It’s clear that someone thought getting rid of Ama the night before voting was a good idea,” I hissed. “I don’t think it's just the House of Runes' fault. I think…”
I couldn’t believe I was admitting this, but the more I thought about it, the truer it sounded to me.
“I think my parents are somehow involved. I am almost positive my father used his influence to create a more toxic and aggressive environment during that fight. When I went back to the table, he even expressed that he wished Ama had been hurt. I don’t think either of them want her at the ceremony tomorrow.”
Damien shook his head, “But fucking assassination attempts, Nico? I mean your parents are bastards, but they aren’t murderous ones.”
“I wouldn't be so sure about that,” I exhaled slowly.
“We need to be ready for tomorrow.” Colt’s voice was filled with tension, and when I met the man’s gaze I saw a wave of emotions that I had no business sorting through.
“Ready for what?” Drayven asked, his eyes darting over to the bed every few seconds, as if he was considering getting in there with Finias just to be close to Ama. The idea was almost laughable, yet I understood it completely.
“At the voting tomorrow, we need to tell them about the attempt on her life, along with what little other information we have,” Colt exhaled and stood up. “Which means you are going to have to incriminate your own house, Nico. Same for you, Finias. No one will believe Ama if we don’t tell them everything.”
He was right.
“We are picking sides,” Damien concluded.
“No,” Colt looked towards the bed, “We are picking Ama.”
He was right. We were picking Ama. For the first time ever, the six houses would agree on something. Protecting Ama was essential.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Ama
Nightmares plagued my sleep as I tossed and turned, trying to avoid the fear that kept trying to crawl up my throat, threatening to overwhelm me. I didn’t feel safe. I felt like I had hands wrapped around my throat, making it so hard to breathe that I was losing consciousness. Then, right before I passed out, they would loosen—only to repeat the cycle once more. When my eyes finally opened, I was covered in sweat and feeling like I'd barely slept.
Which was why I went completely still when an arm tightened around my waist. I should have freaked the fuck out, but while I was tense, I didn't feel the violent need to get away from the body behind me. Which meant that, subconsciously, my body and magic knew who I was in bed with. I turned, letting out a slow breath of relief at finding Finias wrapped around me. I squeezed my eyes shut, feeling a surge of thankfulness. I hadn't realized just how safe he made me feel until the moment I’d felt true terror.
Running my hand over my face, I sat up, bringing my knees to my chest and looking around the room, trying to remember where I was exactly. The first thing I noticed was how comfortable and quaint it was compared to the massive suite I'd been put in. I couldn't see much because the window curtains were drawn, and the fire was burning out, but I could see how different it obviously was.
I think I preferred this. Mind you, the other room was now tainted by the dead body of the assassin I was trying to not think about...but even if that hadn't been the case, I think I would have loved this. It smelled like Damien, and that was an absolutely wonderful smell, making me smile just a bit as I looked around for the man in question.
Instead of finding human Damien, I found a massive Hellhound curled up at the end of the bed, his easy breathing not deep enough to make me believe he was truly sleeping. The same went for Finias, who I was nearly positive was aware I was awake.
I was learning that the man noticed everything.
I wanted to be upset with Finias. I really did. I wanted to be upset with all of them about what had transpired, but my gut was telling me it wasn't completely their fault. Not that they hadn't been having a pissing match or been serious about what they were saying, but King Marcelo's smile had been far too pleased and sick to make me believe the fight hadn't been exactly what he wanted.
Sliding from the bed, I let out a small squeak of surprise when I nearly stepped on top of Colt. What the hell? Had they all come here? Colt's breathing was far deeper than the others’, and I stepped over him carefully, tip-toeing to the bathroom, where I closed the door and let out a slow exhale.
Turning on the light, I relieved myself and washed my face, my skin feeling raw from crying and my eyes stinging. As I examined myself in the mirror, I winced at the dark bruising on my golden skin. Fuck. That was going to leave a mark, and not just physically.
I'd been bullied most of my life, but nearly being killed was shocking to my system, and I suddenly felt like the bullying I'd experienced was absolutely nothing compared to what had happened tonight. Tonight, someone had tried to kill me because of how I'd been born and the power that they wanted. I knew, without a doubt in my mind, that was what this was about.
Straightening my shoulders and trying to shake it off, I turned from the sink and grabbed the door handle to ease the bathroom door back open quietly. I turned off the light behind me and nearly slammed right into a hard chest. Fuck.
Hands wrapped around my waist and picked me up, carrying me towards the fireplace. I considered struggling but found I was too tired to do so, especially since I knew who was holding me, which lessened the threat for sure. I did have a bit more caution and fear in my normal reactions, though, which made me wonder just how this attack was going to affect me going forward.
I'd always been fearless, but tonight, I'd felt fear—and lots of it. Someone had tried to kill me. My magic fizzled against the more dominant Reaper power surrounding me as Drayven crushed me to his chest, burying his nose in my hair. I didn't hug him back, feeling emotional, raw, and tired from using magic I wasn't used to. So instead, I just let him hold me, absorbing his natural scent and wondering what the hell was going on in his head.
"Ama." His voice was
low and rough as he pulled back and gently grasped my jaw. "Baby, I am so fucking sorry. I should have never let you leave that ballroom. I completely failed you."
What?
I blinked in surprise as the man once again buried his head in my neck and nuzzled against me as if he truly thought I'd been dead. His reaction was so out of the ordinary, so reactionary, I didn't really know what to do besides smooth my fingers through his nearly silver hair. He was whispering soft, adoring sentiments against my neck, and it had me feeling surges of emotion I was not ready to face under any circumstances, let alone these.
"Dray," I finally whispered, my ribs hurting from how he was holding me, "You have to put me down."
I was set down almost immediately, and the man knelt in front of me, wrapping his arms around my waist in a gentler hold and placing his head against my stomach. My fingers ran through his hair again, and I started to wonder if maybe the man had lost it a bit. I seriously had no idea what the hell to do in this situation. I looked around the room, my eyes finding Nico, slouched over in a chair, breathing evenly, and looking absolutely exhausted.
“Where’s Adrien?”
"He left a bit ago," Drayven admitted, his voice muffled against my stomach. His words snapped me out of it, and I sank down so that I was sitting on the floor next to him. Well, I tried to, but Drayven pulled me onto his lap, wrapping me up in his arms again.
This was bad. Not only for my hormones but also because, for Drayven to act like this, he had to be either under influence or truly scared of what had happened to me.
"Dray, I need you to relax a bit," I soothed quietly, feeling overwhelmed as my eyes prickled. He pulled back, and the raw pain in his expression was something I felt deep down in my soul.
"I can't relax." His growl vibrated against my skin. "I almost lost you, Ama."
"I'm fine," I promised, pressing my forehead against his. "I'm fine."
I wasn't fine, and he knew it.
Except, the terror that I'd been feeling before was slowly giving way to something so much more dangerous. Something I wasn't positive I knew how to deal with.
Rage and fury.
At a level I’d never experienced before. Someone had honestly thought they could kill me. That I would be that easy to remove from this situation. My lip peeled back in a snarl, and I tensed, but Drayven only tightened his arms around me.
"I'm going to kill whoever is responsible for this," I mumbled softly. Not just for myself, either. No. Anyone who played this dirty did not deserve the position of power they were vying for.
"No," Drayven tilted my chin up, "We are leaving. After the vote, we are getting the fuck out of here. I don't care if I have to throw you over my shoulder and walk back. It is too dangerous. There are too many risks—"
Surging forward, I shut him up with a brush of my lips. He went completely still and, fearing rejection, I moved back and off his lap. I watched with a bit of sick fascination as he closed his eyes, seemingly trying to control something, before lifting his hand to his lips and looking up at me. The heat in his eyes was like a damn tornado of fire, and I looked away towards the bed, not allowing myself to get lost in it.
"I need you to support me," I whispered, "I can't do this alone and I can't walk away from it. We have to confront it."
"You don't have to do shit," Drayven argued, his voice harsh and uneven.
"I do," I whispered as my jaw tightened. "If I don't, the legacy of our house will be ruined. I will not let them think they can scare us, let alone steal the vote from us."
"She's right," Nico's words had me looking over to find him in the chair, now seemingly wide awake. Hadn't he been sleeping moments ago?
"I don't give a fuck what's right for the house. I care about your safety." Drayven's face was filled with authentic concern and panic. He really meant that. The man, who was so loyal and intent on serving our house, was willing to ruin our chances at the Supreme seat to protect me? I didn't know what to make of that.
Nico stood, and I tilted my head back as he walked over to me. His finger tilted my jaw, his eyes scanning over my neck, and something flared in his gaze. "How are you?"
"Throat hurts a bit," I shrugged.
"You used your magic," he noted softly. “I was able to trace your magical energy to your rooms.”
My face flushed, and I was glad it was dark so he couldn't see it. "It didn't work forever, but it allowed me to get away momentarily," I mumbled.
"Let me train you. It can be a powerful asset to you," Nico insisted, despite the fact that I was already shaking my head on instinct. I had trained myself for so long to hide that part of myself away. Maybe I needed to accept his offer, though. It would definitely help me learn to satisfy my hunger. What if I wasn’t able to keep feeding off of sex dreams?
"If it means you being safe—" I glared at Drayven, his words making me snap a bit because of all the times he'd made me feel like shit about that side of myself.
"Now you want me to embrace that side of myself?" I hissed. “Now you are alright with me using the side of my magic that makes me a freak—a hybrid?”
Drayven looked away, but not before I saw regret plastered all over his expression. Good. Just because there was something growing between the two of us didn’t mean I didn’t feel angry about what he’d done. How he had made me feel. How he had made others view me.
Nico's hand on my shoulder had me feeling moderately calmer, but I still felt flushed. When the Reaper stood and walked over to me, he didn't respond, simply pressing a kiss to my forehead, which pissed me off so much more. Before I could yell at him, though, the door opened.
"Adrien," I whispered as the Wraith walked in, not acknowledging Drayven when the Reaper closed the door and leaned against it, watching our interaction. I smiled up at the man as he approached, ignoring Nico's presence and dipping his head to brush his lips against mine. A tremble went through me, and I blinked in confusion as clothes were pressed into my hands. He pulled back, and I frowned, looking down at the clothing.
Adrien walked over to the windows and pulled open the curtains, making all three of us wince uncomfortably as bright morning sunlight flooded the room. I recognized the clothing in my hands now. It was the outfit I'd laid out for the voting ceremony today. How had he known that?
"Room is cleared, but I figured you wouldn't want to go back there," he explained softly before opening the rest of the windows, something that had the others groaning and shifting in response. It would have been funny if I hadn't been feeling so off about everything.
"Thank you," I whispered to Adrien. I would never want to go back there.
I watched as Colt managed to sit up. His eyes met mine, his face blank of emotion. So much so that I didn't believe it, and I wondered what he was hiding. No one felt that much indifference. Especially not someone who had slept on the floor of this room, not wanting to leave. Without a word, the Fallen Angel walked towards me and brushed my hair over my shoulder, his gaze roving over my neck as he let out a low rumble. He was gone then, as if he had never been there in the first place.
What the hell had that been?
"Prick," Nico muttered. My lips twitched.
Damien hopped off the bed, still in Hellhound form, and trotted over to me. I bent down, wrapping my arms around his warm body, and he let out a low rumble. I felt tears sting my eyes, knowing that what we had been through last night would alter our relationship completely. What had once been lighthearted and sweet was now far more serious. He had killed someone for me. That was the truth of it. He had killed someone to protect me.
I watched as he moved to the bathroom and closed the door with his snout. I needed to get in there as well, but I wasn't exactly super eager to go to this voting ceremony without a plan.
"What should I do?" I hadn't meant to ask the question out loud, but I instantly knew I had the attention of all four men in the room, including Finias, who hadn't moved from the bed but was watching me with an intense expression. What was he t
hinking about? Did I want to know?
"We tell them what happened," Damien walked out of the bathroom, naked except for the towel wrapped around his muscular hips, the shower running in the background. "You were almost fucking killed, and someone is responsible." With that, the door to the bathroom closed, and I tried to keep the surge of desire at seeing him practically naked—along with the memory of his truly naked body last night—from seeping out, not wanting to embarrass myself in front of Nico.
"He's right," Nico admitted, sitting back down in the armchair. "I am almost fucking positive that my family had something to do with the attack."
"Why do you think that?" I was hesitant to believe that he was so willing to openly blame his own family for such an act of aggression.
Nico briefly explained his thoughts and how his father had acted, and I struggled to process what he was saying. He was telling me his family had tried to kill me and, instead of being on their side, he was here with me. What did that mean? I swallowed and looked towards the windows, where Adrien was now leaning, his eyes categorizing each emotion that flashed across my face.
"The assassin who attacked you was from my house," Finias admitted when Nico finished, standing from the bed. My eyes widened briefly at how he looked in a t-shirt that was skin tight against his muscles, those sexy tattoos literally covering every inch of available space outside of his face.
He continued, "Although that doesn't surprise me. Nothing my parents do surprises me." There was an edge of sadness to his words that had everything inside of me lighting up fiercely and protectively.
I hesitated before meeting both of their gazes, "I know your loyalties lie with your families and houses. I hope what you are saying isn't true—"
It was.
I continued, "But if it is, I also understand that you probably don't want to stand with me as I accuse them of what happened last night."
Insurrection (Monarchs of Hell Book 1) Page 21
