Page 152 of Psycho Gods

“Gallantry is for foolish men.” I laughed cruelly at the idea of simpering about.

She laughed back louder. “And weakness is for foolish women.”

I opened my mouth to argue but snapped it closed because she had a point. Neither of us fit into any gender stereotypes.

“So where does that leave us?” I asked slowly as I trailed my fingers across the cracked edge of the tub and counted the seconds between her breaths.

She didn’t breathe for five seconds, then her breath expelled in a whoosh. “It leaves me sitting in the tub with an ass.” She mumbled under her breath, “And you wonder why I don’t want to be your mate.”

I scowled.

Fisted my hands and tried not to growl with frustration.

Within five minutes of trying to be nice, I’d ruined everything between us.

Again.

“I just want to be your Protector,” I said dejectedly.

Her breathing hitched, and I fixated on the soft whooshing noise amid the thundering water.

She sounded upset. Was I making her sad? Was she frowning? Sun god, I wished Orion were here to whisper her every facial expression.

I felt lost.

Pathetic.

Unable to be anything but the broken blind man who couldn’t control his vitriol. The man who liked pain when everyone yearned for pleasure. Even my Revered didn’t understand me.

It was my turn to gasp.

Unable to breathe.

Icy fingers grabbed my hand and squeezed. I fixated on the sensation. Every molecule was highly attuned to where we were touching.

“You don’t need to panic,” Arabella said softly. “I know you aren’t a nice guy. I don’t need you to pretend to be someone you’re not.”

I exhaled shakily.

“There’s no pressure.” She squeezed my hand encouragingly. “We’re just sitting here talking, even if it means we argue, although I’m tired of arguing. Why don’t you tell me about yourself.”

The tingling sensation in my hand intensified, and my arm went numb.

Shock held me still as I tried to process that she was voluntarily touching me and acting like I hadn’t ruined everything.

I inhaled the steam, warm water, and my Revered’s icy scent.

“It’s difficult,” I blurted out before I’d gathered my thoughts. “Being the weak, blind guy who’s mad at the world.”

Pressure burned behind my eyes, and I cursed myself for speaking so rashly. What the fuck was I doing? She deserved a strong Protector, not a pathetic, broken man who doubted himself.

I opened my mouth to take it back, but her nails dug into my skin.

“Don’t try to take it back,” she said forcefully.

My jaw snapped closed.

She squeezed me, “I want to know the real you, not whatever stupid Protector you need to be.” She scoffed. “What’s the point of all the bullshit we’ve been through and survived if we don’t even know each other?”

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