Page 372 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

The hourglass was slowly running out.

Aran was currently being shoved across a chessboard, barreling toward either success or failure.

Closing my watery eyes, I focused on the faint buzzing in my head that signaled the connection the Consciousness had given me to Aran.

The link that only I had been able to form with her.

She couldn’t be joined to the main line until she earned her wings, but guardians were given a separate channel uniting them with their angel when they accepted the role.

That hadn’t stopped the voice from the Consciousness trying to interfere in her life. He’d gone so far as to open up channels with random people near her to guide her forward.

Since the angel laws forbade guidance from anyone other than a guardian before wings were earned, he’d tried to speak indirectly in riddles and praise her when she did something positive.

Everyone was desperate for her to succeed.

If only she knew.

The things they’d done to her.

The things they’d forced me to do.

I shivered, a foreign sludgy sensation crawled up my throat. Regret burned like bile.

In my opinion, the entire process was convoluted and ridiculous; boundaries had been crossed in ways that could never be undone.

But nobody asked me.

Huffing, I opened the channel between us and repeated into Aran’s head, Do the right thing. Be righteous. Make the right choices.

I could link to her, but the connection was fuzzy and unclear.

It was broken because of what I’d done to her.

Once again, it was a result of the injustice that I had personally served upon her.

This was my penance.

Aran was asleep, but I hoped my words would sink into her subconscious. It was all I had.

Or we were both dead.

Night was the only time I could try to cajole Aran. It was when the connection between us was the strongest.

During the day, she was constantly zoned out and spiraling in her own head. My mental words barely got through.

The only way to get her attention was to snap at her in person.

Aggressively.

When I taunted her, the glazed, faraway look would disappear from her eyes and she’d actually see me. The resulting rage always brought her back into the present.

It was exhausting.

All my muscles spasmed at once, and I sobbed silently in the dark room.

Sometimes I felt so alone. No, Warren did not count as company.

Every time I made a pained noise at night and Jax or his mates found me convulsing, I had to wipe their memories.

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