Page 205 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

My stomach cramped with relief.

I ate as fast as I could and replenished the energy I’d lost training. I was perpetually hungry after breakfast, since all the afternoon meals focused on serving meat.

“So good, thanks,” I said to Malum between a mouthful of honeyed, sliced mangoes.

Malum’s cheeks turned a brighter shade of crimson, and he grunted.

Good talk.

I turned back to inhaling my plate as quickly as I could.

Scorpius made a strangled noise, and Orion stared at me with a frown.

He didn’t blink.

Scraping my spoon across my cleaned plate, I slumped back in my seat contentedly.

The kings were laser focused on me, and I squirmed under the weight of their undivided attention.

Looking for a distraction, I turned to Zenith, who sat on my right.

“So how are ya doing?” I asked him.

Inky lines expanded under the demon’s eyes. “I told you to never talk to me.”

I chuckled at his joke. “You’re so funny.”

The lines expanded down Zenith’s neck, and veins bulged obscenely from his forehead.

Vegar made a caution motion behind Zenith’s back.

What was he going to do? Kill me?

Get in line.

I just wanted someone to talk to me. I didn’t want to be alone with my thoughts. Was that too much to ask for?

There was a reason John and Sadie were my best friends.

The academy legion ate in silence.

I leaned my chair back on its legs and stared at the vaulted stained-glass ceiling. Rolling my pipe between my lips, I squinted until everything was unfocused and blurry.

“Don’t tip your chair back like that,” Malum said as he furrowed his brow. “You’ll break your neck.”

I tipped back further.

He said something else. I didn’t listen.

The meal lasted an hour, but it felt like seconds.

Colors faded to gray, sounds became muted, thoughts fragmented and shattered. Reality obfuscated.

The only constant was enchanted smoke, and I inhaled like it could save me.

It didn’t.

Nothing could.

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