Psycho Gods (Cruel Shifterverse #6)

His silver eyes were pleading.

Scorpius swore as he scrambled out of his bunk and smacked at the flames, and the rest of the room woke up around us. Men shouted. Someone grabbed a bucket from the bathroom and threw water on the flames. There was chaos all around.

Neither of us moved.

“Just not how you meant, Arabella.” His baritone voice was soft.

He leaned closer and breathed out.

Our breath mingled.

Surprisingly soft lips pressed gently against mine, and they were incredibly warm. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered against my mouth. “Please forgive me.” Wide palms cradled the sides of my face, and heavily callused fingers traced gently across my cheekbones.

Pain streaked sharply across my back.

Heat burned against my mouth as a different type of fire spread inside my chest.

As his tongue battled against mine, I tasted whiskey and tobacco. My skin tingled with awareness.

Knees went weak.

The bed burned and men yelled. As they tried to put out the fire, Malum kissed me like he was trying to devour me.

Pain streaked hotter down my spine.

It reminded me.

I was embracing the devil.

I yanked away from him and stumbled until I bumped into my bed. Regret filled my throat and closed my airways for acting rashly, and I wished I hadn’t woken him up.

I should have kept ignoring him.

Flames boiled me alive. Water filled my lungs. Glass shredded my skin. Jinx screamed in pain. He looked at me. “Women are nothing but holes.”

He whispered brokenly, “It hurts because you’re already killing me.” A bronze hand reached out toward me. His lips were swollen. There was a handprint of ice in the middle of his chest where I’d touched him.

He looked ravaged.

I shivered uncontrollably as blue ice spread beneath my feet.

“I will make the past up to you. I swear on my life.” His voice dripped with sincerity.

He sounded agonized.

The handprint sizzled as it melted.

I climbed backward into my bed, and bronze fingers curled slowly into a fist and fell down with defeat.

Dr. Palmer had said my feelings were valid.

I felt like Malum didn’t care about me; he just wanted his Revered. He wanted a perfect ideal, not an imperfect person.

I counted desperately under my breath. “Two. Four. Sixteen. Two hundred and fifty-six. Sixty-five thousand, five hundred, and thirty-six.” The numbers blurred.

I pressed trembling fingers to my lips.

They still tingled.

Whiskey and tobacco lingered on my tongue like the most depraved aphrodisiac.

I reminded myself that Aran would never be enough for the kings.

The three of them whispered and held one another in the middle of the room as they made sure Malum was all right.

Luka made a disgruntled noise and flexed the hand hanging over his bunk like he was agitated.

I wrapped my fingers around his.

He sighed with relief and squeezed tightly.

The hollowness in my chest receded, but as my eyes closed, nightmares sank their claws deep and pulled me under.

Fire burned all around.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six…

Even in my sleep, I counted.

Desperately.





Chapter 6





Scorpius





THE FIRST ASSIGNMENT





Facinorous (adjective): atrociously wicked.



“The angels have returned from their scouting mission!” The alarm blared over the room’s enchanted speaker system.

Pain stabbed my temples.

The alarm burned my overly sensitive ears.

“The first ungodly infestation has been located, and RJE devices have been calibrated for coordinates. All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .03 hours. Repeat. All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .03 hours. Reminder to move stealthily, quiet must be observed in open areas. Do not compromise the base.”

I climbed out of my bunk.

Clothes rustled and voices swore as my legion mates rushed to pull on their standard-issue military gear that Orion said was all black: insulated undergarments, flexible snow pants, a thin but warm jacket, and heavy combat boots.

I was already fully dressed.

Ever since we’d moved into the war camp, I slept fully clothed.

I was always more prepared than everyone else. Planning ahead for every situation and iteration to make sure I didn’t inconvenience those around me.

My mates never judged me, but the rest of the world did.

I was the blind one.

I’d always be weak, no matter how many times I proved I was strong.

My ears rang as the high-pitched sirens wailed, and a crippling headache pounded against my temple.

“Are you okay?” Corvus asked as he massaged the base of my skull like he always did when I was around headache-inducing sounds.

I nodded at him.

Orion gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek, and I basked in his tenderness, then I pulled away regretfully.

We had obligations.

War.

Adrenaline pounded through my veins, and I cracked my neck back and forth.

Ever since we’d learned how alone we were in this war, I’d been itching to do something. I needed to take action. It was obvious that the High Court was wholly unprepared for what was to come.

Sounds erupted as my teammates scrambled to get dressed.

The voice that haunted my dreams swore softly, and I stalked across the room toward them.

“Do you need help?” I asked, every cell in my body highly attuned to her presence.

Arabella grunted. “I can’t find a hair tie, and my stupid curls are—”

I pulled the band off my wrist and held it out to her.

“Where did you get that?” Her voice was accusing, and she didn’t take it.

I sighed with annoyance. “Take the fucking hair band.”

“Explain.” She snatched it from my fingers.

“I have it on me in case Corvus needs to keep his pretty hair pulled back,” I sneered sarcastically.

There was a scratching noise as my Ignis ran his hands over his shaved head and snapped, “Really?”

Arabella chuckled, then stopped like she’d remembered who she was laughing with. “Tell me why you have it.” Two palms pressed against my chest and pushed me backward.

She was trying to be threatening.

I swallowed down a moan.

My Revered’s hands were on me.

She’d voluntarily touched me.

Ten warm fingers had splayed against my shirt for .2 seconds, and it was just long enough to send streaks of lust exploding across my senses.

I readjusted my pants.

“Tell me!” Arabella pushed me again.

I put my fist to my mouth and bit down to stop myself from giving her an explanation. I needed her to keep touching me like I needed to breathe.

It was fucking crucial to my survival.

She was my survival.

Nobody could understand but us.

Unlike other relationships, devil mates weren’t symbiotes of compatible souls that joined together.

A Revered was a male devil’s soul. Period.

Without her we were soulless monsters.

An enchanted voice boomed, “All legions and soldiers report to the cafeteria in .01 hours.”

“We need to go now,” Corvus barked over the sirens.

“Come on, Aran,” Luka said gruffly, and there was the sound of flesh against cloth as he pulled her away from me.

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