Page 151 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Rubbing at my chest, I tried to ignore my disappointment over how quickly Lothaire had believed my lies. Of course I didn’t want to compete. I wasn’t an imbecile.

Did I look like a try hard? No.

I preferred to be a try soft. Life on easy mode was what I was looking for. Sadly, I had not found it yet.

Case in point, my injuries were not cosmetic.

Bones were broken, and my bruises ran deep.

I just didn’t care enough to argue over the injustice of it all. According to Jinx, I was being tested, and it made the most sense that it was the gods who were responsible.

They wanted me to act righteously.

Well then, I was going to be the best person there ever was.

Maybe.

Eh, honestly. Probably not.

Would it be cowardly to kill the kings and feed my heart to someone before the tattoo revived me? It sounded superb about now.

I sucked harder on my pipe.

“Come on, let’s get ready,” John said with his trademark smile as he pulled me away from the wall, toward the bathroom.

His fingers were warm as he stroked black paint across my cheeks.

“I’ll keep you safe, Aran.” He leaned into my personal space and touched my face.

His thumb traced little patterns across the tops of my cheeks.

John’s dark eyes sparked with something I’d never seen directed my way.

Pain lanced my spine.

I exhaled loudly and pulled away from him.

“Don’t be weird, dude.” I laughed shakily.

John flashed his dimples. He bopped my nose with black paint and winked. “Whatever you say, dude.”

I scrunched my nose and scrubbed at it as I looked away and tried to hide the flush I felt warming my cheeks as I grinned.

Fireworks of pain exploded across my back.

My smile fell.

I was born to suffer.

Chapter 22

Aran

SOUND

The Legionnaire Games: Day 33, hour 10

John, Scorpius, and I trudged forward to meet our fate.

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