With every fucking breath you took.
It was well known through our society that Ignises from our House would go to extreme measures—like locking their Revereds away and never letting other men so much as look at them. One of my ancestors had cut the tongue out of every person—man or woman—who’d dared to talk to his Revered.
Flames multiplied across my arms as I thought of all the ways I would hurt people who challenged her. No way would she be fighting anyone in the fae realm; I’d kill them all first. I’d tear them to pieces and— Scorpius dug his nails into the back of my neck and yanked me back harshly. “Calm the fuck down,” he snarled into my ear. “You will not ruin this for us with your possessiveness.”
He shook me back and forth.
Flames came out of my mouth as I breathed heavily.
“Calm. Down. Right. Now.” His voice was sharp as glass, and his nails dug deep, drawing blood.
I concentrated on the pain, and it slowly brought me back to reality. The haze of anger lifted from my vision.
“Don’t forget who she is,” Scorpius warned, awe in his voice. “She’s more powerful than all of us—don’t be an idiot.”
Orion patted my arm. “He’s right,” he whispered as he stood on the bed and opened the skylight windows.
A warm breeze filtered in.
Cricket chirps and frog noises filled the space.
Millions of stars glittered above.
“Breathe in,” Scorpius ordered, and I obeyed. I exhaled my Ignis aggression.
I inhaled calm.
Strangers who didn’t know me thought I was unfeeling. I had the opposite problem.
My feelings were too much.
They’d always plagued me.
Scorpius and Orion were the two people who’d always understood that about me. They related.
My world was shades of scarlet; I burned with obsession and rage. Scorpius’s world was shades of black; he yearned for pain. Orion’s world was shades of gold; people were shiny toys for him to play with.
For the longest time, it had only been the three of us.
Now Aran joined us.
In her memories, I’d felt what she felt. I’d seen through her eyes.
Aran’s world was shades of gray; she was numb, unable to process the terrifying capacity for violence that lived within her.
She deserved so much more than gray.
I pulled away from Scorpius and walked over to the bed so I could play with my Revered’s blue curls.
I’d channel my obsessive nature to not only protect her but to help her heal. To help all of us heal.
So help me sun god, her world would be shades of vibrant colors.
I refused to accept anything less for her.
As I twined the silky lock around my finger and made silent promises to my sleeping mate, Scorpius gathered our softest throw blankets and tucked them around her.
My ball of fire hovered toward the stone hearth in the room’s corner, then it whooshed to life.
When I was fully satisfied that my Revered was comfortable and warm, I pulled off all my clothes.
John made a choking noise.
Turning, I realized Luka and John were standing awkwardly in the doorway.
I rubbed the back of my neck—I’d never expected them to be my mates. It was unheard of for a devil to have five mates.
But here we stood.
Warmth expanded in my chest as I looked down at Aran. She was the reason that all of us were connected. I’d gone from suffering because I was missing my mate to having more mates than I knew what to do with.
It was insane.
Life felt like a dream.
Pressure built behind my eyes, and I wiped it away discreetly with the back of my hand as I gestured at the twins. “You can come in.”
John glanced at Scorpius, then our Revered. “I don’t want to intrude,” he said slowly.
“Get in here. You’re our mates,” Scorpius snapped.
All of us were haggard.
Worn down from the war.
“Okay, then,” John’s eyes widened as he and Luka stepped inside the cozy space. They stared at the giant dragon that was carved across the walls.
“It symbolizes the power of the House of Malum,” I explained. “All our power—her power.”
“She’s amazing,” Scorpius grinned viciously. “She’s terrifying.” He gnashed his teeth. “She’s perfect.”
I rolled my eyes at my sadistic mate.
“Don’t be shy, John,” Scorpius sneered wickedly as he climbed into bed and patted the space beside him. “I won’t bite—much.”
Luka and Orion shared a glance as they shook their heads.
I ignored everyone and climbed in so I could hold my Revered in her sleep. No one complained, because they knew I was fire, and she was ice.
She needed me to warm her.
It was my life’s purpose.
When all six of us were tucked under the covers, lying beside one another, we stared in silence at the glittering sky.
Our Revered was the only one who slept.
The rest of us were painfully awake, echoes of the war were tangible around us. Adrenaline still strummed among us.
I stared down at Aran’s furrowed brow. My raspy voice was loud in the silence. “We need to let her heal.”
There was a beat, then John responded, “Obviously. She’s been through hell.”
Scorpius frowned.
Orion sat up against the headboard and stared down at her, Luka scrubbed at his face, and I twisted more of her silky curls around my hand.
I already knew that letting her go in the morning was going to pose a problem.
“So what exactly does letting her heal mean?” Luka asked. “Just so we’re all on the same page.”
I was so startled that the quiet twin was conversing with us that it took me a moment to process what he was asking.
Scorpius answered for me, “It means we don’t touch her. Not until she’s 100 percent ready.”
The five of us looked at one another with grave expressions.
“We have all of immortality,” John agreed. “We need to make sure she’s well. That’s the priority.”
I nodded as I tucked myself tighter around her protectively. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. Mine. A possessive voice repeated in my head.
My fire wanted her.
I wanted her.
“We all need to heal,” Orion whispered, as he grabbed Luka’s hand.
Scorpius sighed. “One day at a time, that’s all we can do.”
“For her,” I whispered, and the men chorused back, “For her.”
She was our soul.
Our hearts.
Our Revered.
Our treasure.
Chapter 64
Aran
FLYING
Ethereal (adjective): extremely delicate and light.
A warm breeze blew through my curls as I whooped aloud with joy.
Fresh grass and sweet florals filled my nose.
Crystalline wings flapped behind me as I spun higher into the air. The weight of my wings was a comforting presence that felt right, as opposed to crushing.
I was built to take to the sky.
It was my destiny.
The rising sun kissed my rosy cheeks, and morning fog gave everything a whimsical quality. Goats, sheep, and miniature ponies trotted about without a care in the world.
The sunshine was golden and hazy.
Life felt like a watercolor painting.