Page 46 of Psycho Beasts

Nothing that man said was correct.

I promised myself I would never be like him, that I would never abuse women and use them.

Until now, I’d thought I succeeded at being different from that piece of shit.

I was turning twenty-four years old soon, and I could safely say I’d never hurt a woman and had never lifted a hand against one.

Never wanted to.

Sure, I’d fucked them until they screamed with release, worshipped their bodies until they cried my name, but I’d never once asserted my power over their smaller bodies.

But I’d never felt anything more than a surface-level attachment to a woman. Done nothing more than traded pleasure for pleasure.

I realized my problem.

My temperament had swung too far the other way.

Now that I’d grown attached to a woman, I fucking cared too much.

The horrors of growing up had warped me.

The pain, fear, and tears of women as they’d run from my father’s room, his fist slamming against their heads casually when they upset him.

Fire raged inside my soul.

I wanted to throw Sadie over my shoulder and lock her in a room because I couldn’t stand to see her injured.

It killed me inside.

If it weren’t for the rest of the men accepting Sadie’s decisions, I would have physically stopped her from initiating. I’d have fucking knocked her out before I’d have allowed her to go through with it.

But I couldn’t.

I was held back by how badly I’d fucked up with the fae queen. I was a hypocritical ass, because I’d been the one to put her in danger.

But holy fuck.

Jax talked about giving her the freedom to make her own decisions—what a crock of shit.

I couldn’t fucking comprehend how he held himself back from ordering her around. I saw the inferno in his eyes, the way his jaw tensed when she’d marched forward to get tortured.

Somehow, he’d held himself back.

I’d forced my body to mimic his. With every ounce of control in my being, I’d fashioned my features into granite and stood idly by while she put herself in danger.

It had killed me.

Now I trembled with the urge to make her mine.

In that way, I understood Cobra.

If I possessed her, if she was mine, then I could forbid her from doing things for her own safety. Then she would never get hurt again, and I could relax.

I dragged my hands roughly across my sensitive horns, and the pain cleared my jumbled thoughts.

No.

I was a product of a fucked-up childhood, and I couldn’t think straight around Sadie. If I acted like I wanted to, just like Jax kept telling Cobra, I would lose her for good.

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