Page 116 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Their large bodies were positioned to take up a maximum amount of space, and they had me pinned with the bathroom door behind me.

My voice was raspier than usual as I spoke. “I get that I’m perfect and you’re obsessed with me, but could you give me a little space?” I flipped my wild curls over my shoulder. “Thanks.”

Flames sizzled as they trailed down bronze forearms.

John pushed past the kings. “Nah, you don’t get any space, bestie.” He flung his arm over my shoulder and half led, half dragged me out the door while the demons and kings followed us.

His eyes narrowed as he looked down at what I was wearing, but the expression disappeared so quickly I convinced myself I’d imagined it.

He smiled down at me softly.

Horse flapped with outrage and repositioned himself on top of John’s arm.

“What are you doing?” I tugged against John’s hold.

Lightning struck the walls of the busy hall, and my hair crackled. It reeked of burning ozone.

The academy students, royals and commoners alike, scrambled out of our way as we passed. Some bowed at us, while others openly gaped like we were mythical creatures.

I rolled my eyes.

John’s fingers tightened on my shoulder, and his minty breath was hot against the side of my face. “Relax, dude. I’m just trying to keep you alive. I didn’t stitch you up for hours just for you to get bonfired by Malum.”

“I’d like to see him try.” I huffed as I tried to turn around to glare at Malum.

John grunted and tightened his hold so I couldn’t turn. “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. Stop poking at Corvus. He’s our captain, and we need his cooperation to get through the games.”

The fight drained out of me. “He enslaved me. I can’t let that go. He’s so disrespectful.”

Dimples flashed in my peripheral vision. “Worry about what you can control. We’ll deal with that later.”

“Easy for you to say.” I pouted, hurt that my friend wasn’t more concerned for me. My fictional lover would have been all over Malum’s ass for how he treated me.

“Hey, no moping.” John pulled me closer and ruffled my curls. “When it’s time to handle the kings, we will. You just gotta trust me.”

“Fine,” I said even though I didn’t believe him. “You better not be just saying that.”

“I’m not.” John ruffled my hair harder. “Now let’s feast. I don’t know about you, but I could eat a horse.”

Horse cawed with alarm and pecked at John’s eyeballs. My delusional friend just laughed and swatted at the incorporeal crow.

“Get him, Horse. Eat his brains,” I encouraged, and John just chuckled harder.

When we entered the hall, two things stuck out to me: (1) Sadie and her men were all sitting at a table looking healthy, and (2) a body was crucified to the tree.

“Um.” I stopped and pointed.

Hundreds of stakes pinned a carcass to the trunk of the sacred tree. They shook as a head lifted.

Not a carcass, a man.

I stumbled because holy sun god, how was such a gory mess alive?

“Ignore that,” John said casually like he was used to it as he led me toward our table.

Some students fell silent as we walked by, while others yelled congratulations and clapped like someone wasn’t being tortured a few feet away.

I leaned closer to John, and he tucked me under his arm protectively.

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