Page 100 of Psycho Gods

His voice took on its familiar sneer as he said, “I’ve never meant anything more in my miserable existence. Let me serve you. Please.”

There was a fresh round of swooning in the crowd.

I rubbed at my eyes, half convinced I was hallucinating because of excessive drug use.

“Um, okay?” I scratched at the back of my neck.

The crowd parted as Orion and Malum stepped forward to flank their mate. Looming shadows of death, they fell to their knees beside him.

All three of them bowed their heads to me and said in unison, “From here on out, we will be known as your hounds.”

Someone swooned in the crowd, and there was a smattering of applause and wolf whistles.

I was going to be sick.

“I don’t get why they’re so obsessed with her?” a different girl whispered cattily from behind me.

“They’ll tire of her eventually. It’s just for show,” someone replied, and they burst into laughter.

They spoke my fears aloud.

I pressed my palms into my eyes and took another step back. Could they not give me one party to rot in depression by myself?

“I’ve always been more of a cat person,” I mumbled under my breath as I looked around for Sadie, desperate for my friend to distract me from whatever the hell was going on in front of me.

Men were messy.

Each day, I became a bigger advocate for mandatory male imprisonment at birth.

“You belong to us,” Malum said harshly, then his cheeks turned scarlet like he was embarrassed for voicing his true thoughts.

Case in point.

He couldn’t even pretend to be contrite while prostrating himself before me in a crowd.

I inhaled, tipped my head back, and scoffed in disbelief, “You’re out of your minds if you think I’ll forgive you.”

Bright flames exploded across his shoulders, and he lifted his head, molten silver pinning me in place as fury contorted his features.

The crowd fell over themselves as they put more space between themselves and the volatile king who was known for losing his temper.

Orion grimaced. He looked up with pleading eyes like he was apologizing because his mates couldn’t pretend to play nice.

“Do you want me to crawl for you?” Malum asked loudly, and his deep, baritone voice made it hard to breathe.

Another person swooned.

The Academy seemed to have a passing-out problem.

Malum crawled forward toward me, harshly handsome features appeared insidious in the room’s dark shadows.

He tried to look repentant.

He looked savage.

I subconsciously rubbed at my neck as I remembered how he’d dragged his teeth across my sensitive skin.

The floor vibrated with music.

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