Page 299 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

This time, it wasn’t Xerxes that caught me.

“You scared me, Aran. We need to get you back to the room,” John said roughly as he pulled his sweatshirt off and gently helped me put it on.

Then he picked me off the ground and held me against his chest.

“Why am I wearing your clothes?” I asked between whimpers of pain.

John made a strangled noise. “I’m preserving your modesty.” His voice filled with fear. “I would have gotten to you sooner, but the fucking shifters blocked us from getting to you. Malum was about to light them on fire when they finally let us through.”

As he spoke my teammates popped into view around him.

They surrounded me.

“My man, are you okay?” Vegar asked with concern as he leaned closer to take a look at me.

Shivering from pain, I gave him the evil eye.

“Actually, I feel really great right now,” I said through gritted teeth.

Vegar raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

I didn’t bother to respond.

“Sweetheart,” Orion whispered as he stared down at me with wide, watery eyes.

His tender expression shattered as he glared over at Malum, who was partially on fire and couldn’t meet my gaze. I looked over at Scorpius, who was dragging his hands over his face tiredly.

Zenith stepped up beside Vegar and leaned close to me. Up close, the inky lines under his eyes expanded and thinned like they were breathing. “You did not embarrass us,” Zenith said in a clipped tone. “For the most part.”

I squirmed uncomfortably under the weight of his profuse praise.

Everyone was in tune with their emotions today. Was a planet in this solar system retrograding?

Another wave of convulsions made me shake, and John squeezed me and said urgently, “We need to get her inside. Now. Everyone, move.”

The students surrounding us gawked and shuffled to the side, but the crowd was so thick there was barely any room.

I whimpered from the pain.

Malum exploded in flames and roared, “Everyone, clear a path for her or you’re dead.” Fire shot from his mouth into the sky, like a dragon.

A stampede erupted as students shoved at one another, desperate to get away from the unhinged king.

The kings pushed forward, kicking and punching people who didn’t get out of their way fast enough.

The crowd parted, and John jogged through.

When we got into the academy, tears streamed down my face, and I bit down on my lip to swallow a scream.

John began to sprint.

As the torment intensified, everything became a blur of pain and movement.

Vegar brought over a makeshift cot, and John gingerly laid me down on it before the hearth. He said something about needing to see my injuries as he gently tugged his sweatshirt off me.

As I stared at the fire, roaring flames disappeared into glowing embers.

I arched my back.

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