Page 32 of Psycho Beasts

I’d almost forgotten how bad pain could hurt.

Almost.

Now, hanging by a rope from the ceiling with Cobra and Sadie badly beaten beside me, I remembered.

Once again, I was the young man hiking through the desolate forest, fighting for survival as trees howled around like monsters.

I vibrated with angst.

Not for myself.

For them. The alphas I cared about.

On top of that, Xerxes cut a pathetic figure, and my alpha instincts screamed at me to protect the omega.

It was wrong to see an omega bloody. Unnatural.

My chest even hurt for Ascher. His tattoos were indiscernible among blood and bruises, and both his eyes were swollen shut.

Suddenly, Sadie was cut down by the fucker who dared hurt her.

She fell to the ground with a crack, her legs and arms splayed.

It took every ounce of strength left in my body to not roar like a maniac. I trembled with the urge to help her up.

With a weak gasp, the little alpha rolled to the side and coughed up blood. But she didn’t cry and break down. She stumbled onto her legs.

When she turned so I could see her face fully, I raggedly sucked in air. My chest rumbled.

Sadie’s gold skin was covered in a patchwork of bruises, but the worst was her face.

Two massive black eyes were dark and ghastly against her delicate bone structure. She mirrored Ascher.

Trembling violently, the little alpha hunched over with her hands on her knees as she breathed raggedly.

White hair hung around her face, a snarled mess covered in blood.

It reminded me of the elk’s entrails splashed across the snow after I’d savaged it with my bare hands.

The leaders had assured me the disease didn’t affect alphas, but you could never know for sure. Back then, a part of me had hoped the disease would take.

It hadn’t.

Now I uselessly tugged at the restraints still tying my wrists.

I was a second from bellowing at Spike to hurry the fuck up when Xerxes stumbled over and helped support the little alpha.

My roar died in my throat as the much larger omega leaned against her. Even battered, they were both stunning in a softer, more beautiful sort of way.

There was something delicate about them.

Cobra, Ascher, and I were built for torture, built to withstand the atrocities of war, pain, and suffering.

They weren’t.

Yet here they were, destroyed among us.

I swallowed a low growl and reminded myself that looks could be deceiving. Instinctually, I wanted to wrap the little alpha up and yell at the omega to stay safe.

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