Psycho Gods (Cruel Shifterverse #6)

I had no recollection of falling asleep.

“You should eat this. You didn’t eat earlier,” Malum said gruffly as he handed me a vegetable sandwich he must have stolen from the cafeteria.

I took it from him mutely.

Did he wake up in the middle of the night to feed me? Strange.

I took a small bite because my stomach was hollow, then I devoured it in three bites like I was ravenous. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten.

“Good girl,” Malum whispered as I brushed crumbs off my covers, and I stared at him.

“What did you just say to me?” I asked incredulously.

A blush stained his cheeks like he hadn’t meant to speak.

The cruel devil who had said how much he hated women could not be the same man who was now whispering things about princesses and praising me.

I had to be dreaming.

Snores filled the space as the men slept in the dark bedroom. A faint memory of the twins guiding me into bed played at the back of mind, but it felt like it was someone else’s recollection.

Had I been sleepwalking?

Malum and I were the only ones awake, and he loomed over me like a dark god.

I was delirious.

My comforter was covered in frost, and his fingers danced with flames.

“Were you watching me sleep?” I asked slowly as I tried to figure out what was going on. Why is he feeding me? What’s he trying to gain?

Silence expanded between us, and just when I thought he wasn’t going to answer, he said, “It was my turn to stand watch, and you looked hungry.”

It took a moment for his words to penetrate.

How does one look hungry in their sleep? Red extended across his bronze cheeks like he could read my mind.

I gaped at him. “Um. Thanks? I’m also pretty sure there are enchanted alarms on all the barracks, so you don’t need to stand watch.”

He frowned. “I will do what I must in order to protect my mates.” With crossed arms, he spread his legs wider.

It was pitch black as the storm raged outside the window.

Insanity was saccharin on the tip of my tongue as the leader of the kings cleared his throat roughly.

He leaned down at the waist, so his head was closer to my bunk.

As if in a trance, I reached up for his neck.

“How did you get this?” I whispered as I traced the pads of my fingers against smooth bronze skin and left a trail of blue ice. It instantly melted, and water dripped between us.

There was a sizzle as my fingers burned from contact with his skin.

It stung, but I didn’t pull away.

He moved closer and overwhelmed my space.

Tobacco and whiskey filled my lungs, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood up as goose bumps exploded across my arms.

My subconscious screamed at me to run.

My consciousness screamed at me to punch him in the throat.

My inner demons screamed at me to kill everyone, then myself.

My inner slut screamed at me to sit on his face and suffocate him.

He inched closer.

I pressed my mouth against his lips and jolted because they burned with heat.

He went completely still like he was afraid to move. The fiery king made a rough noise in the back of his throat, and then he moved quickly, pinning me to the bed.

Arousal ignited.

Pain exploded down my spine.

I dragged my nails across the dagger on his neck.

He pinned me to the bed with both my hands above my head.

Hips pressed punishingly against mine as he held me down so I couldn’t move. We barely fit on my bed. Where he began, I ended.

We were a tangle of limbs and aggression.

His voice was rough like broken glass and sin as he whispered against my lips, “The neck tattoos appeared after the three of us attempted to complete the bond.”

He rolled his hips against me.

Kissed me harder.

I gasped as I realized what he meant.

Images of bare skin on a black silk bed—Orion between Malum and Scorpius as the three men devoured one another with groans of pleasure and sweat-soaked skin—had me holding my breath.

The temperature spiked between us.

Embers fell off his flaming shoulders and melted as they touched my chilled skin.

“Oh,” I gasped eruditely.

He rolled his hips again, and my eyes rolled back in my head from the pleasure. Agony danced across my back.

One hand held my hands above my head while his other hand palmed my ass. He swore against my lips, “Fuck, Arabella, you’re going to be the death of me.”

I pushed my hips hard against his length.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he whispered as he kissed me harder. His lips trailed down my jaw, then lapped at the column of my throat.

He sucked on the sensitive skin, and my stomach twisted with need.

It was too much.

His teeth trailed across my neck.

I gasped as I realized he was purposely marking me. Desire increased, and agony tore my back apart.

It was too much.

I panted and pushed him away.

He took a step back and put his hands in the air like he was making a show of acting harmless. Wiping the back of his hand across his swollen lips, he smirked down at me with male satisfaction.

His pants strained forward obscenely.

My stomach twisted as white-hot pain splintered down my spine.

I swallowed a whimper.

Silver eyes narrowed. He stared at my lips with a feral expression and asked, “Any other questions?” He tried to sound casual, but his voice was thick with lust. “Everything doesn’t need to be a fight between us. We want to help you. I want to help you—you’re my Revered.”

He stared at me possessively.

My eye twitched, and doom was corrosive in my veins.

That damned word again.

I was nothing but an object to them, a fixture of importance separate from any individuality.

There was no Aran.

Only her.

His perfect Revered that didn’t exist.

Their divine obsession.

“That’s okay.” I cleared my throat and pulled the covers over me protectively. “I don’t want your help.”

He took another step forward and crouched so he was hunched and half leaning over my bed.

“That’s fine,” he said, and the corners of his mouth curled up into a forced smile. “We’ll do everything we can to protect you and make sure you’re okay.”

His words said one thing, but the tension in his posture said another.

Shadows stretched between us.

The energy slowly shifted between us, and I squirmed as his expression darkened.

“You can go back to bed now.” I itched the back of my neck. “No need to stand watch.”

He didn’t move.

Was he mad that I’d pushed him away? Since my back still strummed with pain, I didn’t have a choice.

Awkward tension lengthened between us.

He kept smiling down at me, but a muscle on the underside of his jaw ticked like he was grinding his teeth. Veins stuck out across his forearms as he clenched his hands into fists.

I scoffed as I realized what was happening.

He was pretending to be harmless, and it was killing him, but I could sense the truth—inside he was seething because once again I’d refused to be his Revered.

“Um, I think I’ll step outside to get some fresh air.” I glanced behind him at the door and pulled myself out of bed.

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