Psycho Gods (Cruel Shifterverse #6)

I wet my lips twice and croaked out, “Uh, okay.”

Scorpius took a step closer. “You’re welcome for the gloves, Arabella.” His voice had a cruel tilt to it, like was really saying “get on your knees.”

His cheekbones glinted like cut diamonds.

Suddenly, I liked my men mean.

“Um, th-thanks?” I stuttered.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Orion whispered with wide eyes as Scorpius smiled like I’d made him proud. Together they were exquisite. Divine.

The bursts of pain down my back ratcheted up to another level as I admired the nude men and my fuzzy black mittens.

“I picked out the color,” Malum grumbled mid-push-up.

“No one cares.” I tried to flip him off, but the mitten made it look like I was waving.

I put my hand down with defeat and purposefully avoided making eye contact, or ab contact, with anyone. I announced to the room with determination, “I’m going to stay close and practice in the woods so the bond sickness doesn’t act up, but I want to do this alone—anyone who interrupts will get punched in the throat. I’ll be back when I’ve learned to fly.”

Vegar drawled from his bunk bed, “So—never?”

I glared at the demon. “That was hurtful and unnecessary.”

“Oh darn.” He rolled over in his bed.

I stalked out into the light snowfall. Muttering about stupid men, I stomped around the side of the barracks to a space where the towering pines would conceal me.

The morning was overwhelmingly bright.

I tipped my head back and gaped. They sky had changed overnight from gray to a glittering lavender.

It was stunning.

Green pine needles coated in ice sparkled like emeralds in the overcast sky. Lilac colors refracted through the snowy forest.

I basked in the colors.

Then I frowned.

It was too stunning. Was this what the realm had always looked like? Was my vision that bad? Why had it changed overnight?

My skull ached as I thought about.

I shook my head and concentrated on the task at hand—I was going to prove Vegar wrong. The change in my vision was a problem for another day.

There were wings on my back.

I was an angel.

It was time to fly.

That was what was important.

With newfound determination, and cute fluffy mittens on my hands, I took off my coat and thermal shirt. Folding them neatly in a pile, I ignored the goose bumps that exploded across my exposed skin as I flexed my thighs.

For once, the cold was barely noticeable.

The day felt mild.

I bent down.

Crystals clattered and air whooshed as I splayed my wings.

Cartilage and bones snapped deliciously as I shook the unused appendages and gritted my teeth.

Ignoring their heavy weight, I bent my head low and remembered Knox’s instructions. I flexed my back muscles. My boots sank into the warm dirt, and steam heated my ankles as my upper body shivered.

Everything faded away as I concentrated on the will coursing through me.

I was going to fly.

My wings spread wide, and I flexed my back muscles as I pushed upward with everything I had.

Nothing happened, but I didn’t let it deter me.

I was going to be smart about this.

My wings disappeared as I pulled them back inside me, and I rolled my neck, stretching and trying to loosen up. I wasn’t going to exhaust myself needlessly.

After I mentally and physically recovered, I withdrew my heavy wings and tried again.

I had this.

Hours later, I collapsed onto my knees with exhaustion and heaved. The cartilage in my wings felt frozen stiff, and it hurt to retract them.

I’d leave them out, just for a few more moments.

My heart pounded erratically, and my breath was loud and uneven as I choked on the snow-drenched air.

Of course, since I was cursed with misfortune, a few minutes into practicing, the blizzard conditions had returned.

A storm had raged continually since.

Now the snow slammed against me in a punishing blur, and my teeth chattered uncontrollably. Visibility was nonexistent.

The world was a vortex of white and gray.

I was bone tired.

I’d never felt so cold.

Crystal wings clattered together as their heavy weight tipped me forward, and I sprawled face first into the pile of snow that had accumulated on the frozen ground where I’d been standing.

The morning light through the clouds was long gone, and the forest was frozen with extreme cold. The blizzard had kicked up a notch.

It was a whiteout.

Sun god, I hated the realm’s temperamental weather.

I turned my neck awkwardly to the side and looked up at the towering pines. They’d frozen completely solid in the storm and were covered in white. Disturbingly sharp icicles hung menacingly off their branches.

Were the trees dead?

Was I dead?

My curls were uncomfortably stiff, plastered against my neck and back. They’d frozen solid with sweat.

I wasn’t sure how much time had passed.

Did time even exist?

Delirium and existential dread clouded my thoughts. Never a good sign.

Gums burning from breathing harshly in the cold wind, I tasted copper on my tongue and moaned pitifully into the snowbank beneath me. Snowflakes sprayed.

I tried to push myself up.

I searched for the determination that had spurned me forward, but it was gone. There was nothing left to give.

For hours, I’d heaved as I spread my wings wide and flexed unused shoulder muscles. For hours—I’d failed.

My feet never left the ground.

At one point, I was so demoralized I jumped up just so I could pretend that I’d flown an inch. My wings were so heavy I’d stumbled and slammed into a tree.

A humbling experience.

It would have been disheartening if I hadn’t already hit rock bottom. Good thing I was already there.

At least my fingers were warm.

The mittens worked amazingly. They were clearly enchanted because the temperature inside them had increased as I’d gotten colder.

Toasty-warm fingers felt like such a luxury, especially since I was lying half-dead in a snowbank. A part of me recognized I should try to move, and there was something crucial I needed to do.

But my thoughts were sluggish.

The snow seemed to fall in slow motion. The storm was pretty, in a violent, terrifying sort of way.

Exhaustion melted into sleepiness. I just wanted to curl up and embrace the stillness.

Crystals clattered as the wind gusted.

The longer I lay in the snow, the more moving seemed like a ridiculous endeavor. Snow was soft and pillowy. It had a nice cushion.

I closed my eyes, content to take a nap.

Time passed.

“You idiot!” Malum shouted with agitation. He said more things, but I purposefully stopped listening as soon as I heard his voice.

“Pull your wings in.” John’s dark eyes were wide with concern as he knelt in the snow. “Pull your wings in right now, Aran, or I swear to the sun god I will spank you.”

I grinned up at him.

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