Page 118 of Psycho Gods

Faster than my eyes could track, Malum grabbed me around the waist and threw us both away from the edge.

I landed on top of him.

For a long moment, we lay in stunned silence.

“You’re an idiot. It was just a joke,” I said haughtily as Orion and Scorpius yanked me to my feet.

Malum exploded into angry scarlet flames as he stood. His expression was pure violence.

“Sadie would have laughed,” I pointed out as I pursed my lips and rubbed my hands together. They were frozen solid.

Men truly had no sense of humor.

“Don’t mention that whore in front of us,” Scorpius sneered.

I gaped at him. Sadie wasn’t exaggerating when she’d said the men were still jealous of her for having fake shower sex with me.

“Oh my sun god,” I exclaimed. “Is it hard?”

The three of them straightened and looked around for danger. “Is what hard?”

“Being so stupid?” I asked at the same time Scorpius asked, “My cock?”

I ignored him.

Flames sizzled as they shot higher off Malum’s arms, and I smirked with triumph. It was too easy to rile him up. I might have even called it a hobby.

Their ire was even more satisfying because they thought I was their precious Revered. They were all, you’re our mate, we’ll kill everyone and cherish you forever. They were so into me.

It was so cringy.

I pitied them.

They couldn’t handle me—few could. I had the body of a large bird, mind of a lunatic, and personality of a divorced middle-aged woman with a shopping addiction.

I was perfect.

“Deep breaths,” Scorpius barked at Malum and grabbed his neck in a tight grip.

I covered my mouth to hide my laughter, and Orion looked over at me with exasperation.

“Is Mitch seriously going to kill us all right now with his fire?” I asked between gasps.

Somehow I’d gone from sleeping in the warm embrace of John to being halfway up a mountainside while Malum struggled not to burn us all to death.

Emotionally, this was too much for me.

Delirium was setting in. Also, I was 99 percent sure I was still intoxicated.

No one responded, because they were too busy trying to help Malum get control of himself.

To help the situation, I pointed at the flaming king and said, “You need therapy.”

A muscle in Malum’s jaw ticked, and when he spoke, flames shot out of his mouth. “We are literally in therapy with you.” He roared and painted the cold air in shades of scarlet.

I grimaced.

Some people didn’t get sarcasm.

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