Psycho Gods (Cruel Shifterverse #6)

Jax and Malum looked at each other.

Fire spread across Malum’s bronze head, and the flames reflected in silver eyes. His baritone voice was soft as he said, “Every woman and man who has walked through the courtyard has a long sword on their hips. They glow with blue enchantments. Every single one of them.”

No one spoke.

There was nothing to say.

Nauseousness made my head light because enchanted steel could slice through anything.

The slur on my back burned.

Enchanted weapons were extremely rare because metals naturally repelled enchantments. They were next to impossible to forge and extremely expensive.

I breathed unevenly.

These weren’t primitive, unarmed civilians like the ungodly we’d previously fought on mountainsides.

“What does this mean?” Rina asked.

Scorpius’s milky eyes stared off, far away, as he sneered, “It means we have to kill armed civilians and then the ungodly.”

“We can’t fight them like we have before.” Malum’s mouth pulled tight with worry.

Lothaire had insinuated months ago that the ungodly we fought were weaker than others.

Had he known?

Even back then?

Suddenly it made sense why he’d only let us fight with daggers.

It had been a warmup.

“We’ll use our powers and our weapons strategically,” Knox said as a broadsword of ice formed across his back. Six more crackled into existence on the backs of the other angels.

The air temperature dropped several degrees.

Frost burned my nose.

I silently stared at my frost-covered fingers and imagined a sword forming.

Nothing happened.

I was useless.

Flames spread down Malum’s head, across his shoulders, and he stared at Orion and Scorpius. “Yes.” His voice was rough like broken glass and whiskey. “We’ll have to use our powers.”

Silver liquefied into molten steel.

He exhaled roughly.

My heart rate increased, and I struggled to swallow as the leader of the kings pinned me with his gaze. The reason the High Court mandated group weekly therapy sessions was suddenly disturbingly clear.

They’d known the enemy had enchanted weapons.

Sweat dripped down my sides even though the temperature was freezing.

They’d known what we’d have to fight against.

I remembered the fear.

Petals swirled as Orion sang and entranced. Scorpius’s third eye opened wide and revealed the secrets of souls. Malum pulled a dagger from his flesh, and his red flames incinerated.

Bile scorched the back of my throat, and I pressed harder into John and Luka’s warmth. Arms wrapped around me and held me close.

I’d been pretending I had a choice.

Subconsciously I rubbed at the space on my hip where an enchanted tattoo used to be; like a fool I’d thought I could cut it away and be free from the kings.

I couldn’t even leave their presence because bond sickness still strummed through my veins.

The men who were instruments of mass slaughter depended on me because I was the only one who could stop them once they started killing.

The High Court had known all along what I’d have to do in this war.

They’d known my soul was tethered.

They’d known I would never escape.

Because at the end of the day, nothing had changed.

I was still enslaved.

To monsters.





Part Two





Conflagration





“Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. And if you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.”





―Nietzsche





Chapter 8





Aran





WAR





Conflagration (noun): a large disastrous fire.





DAY 1, HOUR 3


I fantasized about slamming my head into the chalkboard.

Eight hours ago, when we’d returned from our scouting mission to the first ungodly settlement, Jax sent the soldiers back to their barracks to await instructions. The shifters, angels, and our legion piled into the strategy room to plan.

After two useless hours of trying to brainstorm as a group, Jinx, Malum, and I had been elected as the unofficial war strategists.

The planning was better now that the angels weren’t arguing with everyone and Sadie wasn’t giving inane suggestions every five minutes.

It still wasn’t going well.

“We forgot to factor in that we need to move quietly. Erase it and start again,” Jinx said with exasperation.

She sat on the long table in front of the chalkboard with a ferret draped across her shoulders like a scarf. Warren hung limply with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

He appeared dead, but I knew we weren’t that lucky.

Jinx held out her pointer stick and tapped it on the board demandingly. Pillows were piled up behind her back, and the remaining portion of her leg was wrapped in white gauze.

We were still waiting on an enchanted prosthetic, or even a hover chair. How the High Court had not acquired either by now was beyond me.

Jinx scowled at me like I was an idiot.

I glared back.

If there were a window in the strategy room, I would have chucked myself out of it eight hours ago. There wasn’t. I’d double-checked.

Instead, I gritted my teeth as I erased the battle strategy from the board that we’d spent the past hour working on.

The worst part was that she was right.

Again.

We’d stupidly forgotten that we had to eliminate the ungodly quietly.

The numbers on the board mocked me: seven academy, five shifters, six angels, four assassins, three devils, six leviathans, sixty-nine foot soldiers.

One hundred soldiers total.

It wasn’t a large number.

The best part of it was if anyone died, they couldn’t be replaced, compliments of the dumbass contract signed by the High Court and the sun god.

Loophole-proof.

Depression-inducing.

Mania-fueling.

I was exhausted after trying to consider the strengths of all our fighters, the best way to kill the ungodly, battle formations, and how to secure the perimeter of the palatial settlement.

Jinx pushed her black sunglasses higher up her nose.

The room was dimly lit, but she wore them as a peace offering to show she wouldn’t erase our memories anymore.

My right eye twitched.

I wasn’t mollified.

Jinx could be altering our memories every day and we’d have no clue. Sadie was a big advocate for the glasses, and the shifter legion seemed to think they were sufficient, which made sense—they were all idiots.

Said idiots were currently sitting on the floor in the back of the room playing a card game with Orion and Scorpius to pass the time, as if we were at a social gathering and not preparing for war.

The demons were the only people in the room who had the decency to sit slumped over, looking depressed.

Everyone else was smiling and chitchatting.

A headache throbbed harder in my temple, and the eraser in my hand was streaked with ice as cold burned my fingertips.

Lately I was covered in ice, and it seemed to expand out around me.

I shivered as I remembered the blue flames that had trailed off Mother’s fingers when she was feeling emotional.

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