Page 278 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

It banged against the wall, cracked, and a hinge broke.

The fuzzy memory of him holding me in the shower and telling me that he was going to take care of me played like a bad trip.

In his bed, Scorpius yawned loudly and cuddled Orion against his chest. I tried to ignore the irrational part of me that wondered if they’d ever considered modeling. It was hard to look away from them.

Forcibly shaking the irrational thoughts from my head, I climbed off John’s bed.

Climbed being a generous term for falling over.

“Calf cramp,” I yelped as gravity slammed me to the floor. Sprawled on the rug I massaged my sore leg.

John leaned over the edge of his bed cocooned in blankets and peered down at me. “Eat a banana,” he said unhelpfully.

My eye twitched.

“Great advice,” I said sarcastically as I shivered from a phantom chill and hobbled to my feet.

It was the morning of the fourth competition.

I’d barely survived the last three.

Darkness swallowed me. Colors muted, and I struggled to take a deep breath.

The haze returned with a vengeance.

When Malum left the bathroom, I went to get ready for the awful day. Nerves ate at my stomach, and my hands shook as I dug through my clothes.

The new underwear I’d gotten from a servant last week was already missing.

I was too nervous to care.

Brushing my teeth like a zombie, I grimaced at my reflection in the mirror.

Whatever they were putting in our food to slow our healing rate was highly effective.

They’d said the Legionnaire Games were a psychological competition.

They lied.

I’d never known that bruises could turn a putrid shade of green and purple or that healing wounds got messier as they were reopened.

Now I did.

I didn’t bother to run water over my hair to try to define my curls. The turquoise mass was a frizzy nightmare beyond help. The deep cut under my left eye was becoming a permanent fixture on my face.

Fae prided themselves on their beauty and class.

A small smile curled my lips.

In the history of the realms, no fae had ever looked as horrible as I did now. I could guarantee it.

A spark of pride flared.

I pointed my toothbrush at the mirror like a gun and bared my teeth. Take that, Mother.

The door opened as Zenith entered, and I whirled around and tried to give off “she’s not having a mental breakdown in the mirror” energy.

Zenith scoffed and made a point of choosing the sink furthest from me.

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