Page 150 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

“You’re so fucking toxic,” I muttered as I resumed smoking. Sure, I called Horse a he, but that didn’t mean he identified as a man. Malum was the idiot. Sun god he sickened me.

Suddenly, Lothaire was standing in our doorway, speaking. “The competitors chosen this round from your legion are John, Scorpius, and—”

He paused.

He should have read the third name, but he stopped speaking. Lothaire swallowed thickly, and he hesitated like it pained him to read the last name on his sheet.

Wonderful. I knew exactly where this was going.

“Arabella,” Lothaire finally whispered, and his voice dripped with regret like he was overwhelmed with emotions.

Not relatable.

John jolted up from where he was sitting next to me on the bed and said, “That’s not fair. She competed last time.”

I sighed heavily.

Life isn’t fair, and only the lucky few die.

We already knew this.

I wasn’t lucky.

Lothaire scowled as he said, “The gods have spoken. But I agree this is unusual.” He turned to leave. “I will speak to the representatives.”

“Don’t,” I said.

Lothaire stopped at the threshold, his large frame full of tension as he looked back at me.

I nodded like I’d come to a decision. “I want to fight. Don’t say anything to anyone. I want to compete.”

The deep lines around Lothaire’s eyes crinkled. “Are you sure?” He looked at me skeptically. “You’re still covered in bruises and cuts from the last competition. The cut under your left eye looks bone deep.”

I shrugged with a nonchalance I didn’t feel. “It’s all cosmetic and appears worse than it is. Let me fight. Let me prove myself.”

He stared at me with a sad expression, and I could tell he was trying silently to tell me he cared.

I telepathically told him I wished I were adopted.

Personally, I was doing a good enough job ruining my life without a father speeding up the process.

There was a long moment where I thought he’d argue, but Lothaire sagged his shoulders and nodded curtly. “Very well,” he said. “Good luck, daughter.”

Then he walked away.

If that wasn’t a metaphor for my life.

I rolled my eyes and flipped off the door after he left. It helped. A little.

Malum said something derogatory under his breath as he looked down at me with an expression that was close to pitying.

“You don’t want to do this, do you?” he asked softly and clenched his fists. Like for the first time, he viewed me as a person and realized I was suffering.

I looked away.

My silence was answer enough.

He made a pained noise behind me.

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