Page 204 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Around me, the men dug into the pig, their jaws crunching through bone as they slurped on marrow.

A wave of nauseousness hit me.

I plugged my nose.

“Thank you! Finally, I’m not the only one saying it,” Scorpius said to Luka, eager to have someone else to talk shit about me with. “She needs to eat more and—” Blah, blah, blah.

Why did men talk so much?

I put my elbow on the table and leaned my cheek against my fist.

Scorpius’s upper lip was slightly crooked.

The black ink of the tattooed pupil on his neck dilated as it stared at me.

Was the tattoo sentient? Because its attention was fully on me while Scorpius was bitching to Luka.

I studied the art on Orion and Malum.

Was it all connected?

The sword on Malum wrapped around his neck like a choker, and the silver glinted like it was a sharpened edge. The pink flower petals on Orion’s neck shifted slightly as he moved his head.

I rubbed at the ink on my hip.

Surprisingly, being their slave wasn’t much of an imposition on my everyday life, since we were already forced to compete together as a legion.

I had nowhere to go and nothing to do.

No freedom.

I would laugh at the irony, but it wasn’t funny. It was horrifying.

Malum’s steel-colored eyes stared at me, and something close to pity flashed on his expression.

A servant appeared out of nowhere and bowed to Malum. “As requested, sir.” He offered a platter overflowing with yogurts, nut butters, and ripe fruit.

My mouth watered.

The plate was full of my favorite foods that were usually only served at breakfast.

Malum nodded and took the plate.

He put it in front of me, then turned back to his meal and resumed eating like nothing had happened.

I gaped at the bronze king.

His cheeks flushed red, and he gave no explanation.

It felt like a peace offering.

Like something monumental had shifted between us after I’d rescued Scorpius in the last competition.

Whatever, I wasn’t going to dwell on it.

Stomach growling, I hungrily dug into the feast. I piled on granola and drenched my creation in a mountain of nut butter.

Salty and sweet calories flooded my mouth.

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