Page 10 of Psycho Devils: Aran's Story 2

Glancing over, I confirmed Lothaire was still distractedly going through his desk.

I took another step closer.

My chest pressed against hers.

And I dwarfed her with my muscles.

I smiled meanly. “I don’t care that he’s your father. No one will protect you from us. You won’t get away with playing us like you did Horace. We’ll treat you like the bitch you are. I vow on the great ancestors of the Devil House of Malum that if I find any evidence you’re purposefully fucking with our mate bond—” I pushed her back against the wall. “—you’ll be crucified on a stake in front of our home and set on fire for all of eternity. Your little slave brand will ensure you won’t die. I’ll make sure of it.”

I expected her to cower.

Arabella rolled her eyes.

A blue curl tickled the side of my arm.

The tangle of long turquoise hair fell in ringlets down to her butt. It disgusted me. I’d always preferred silky-smooth hair like Orion’s or Scorpius’s. Hers was a curly mess.

She said softly, “I have no idea what song you’re talking about. I’ve done nothing wrong. Unlike you three.” She scrunched up her sloped nose. “Stop trying to scare me. It won’t work. You’ve already set me on fire, and trust me, I’ve experienced worse.”

I snorted at her audacity.

She should be fucking terrified.

Also, her face had melted. There was no feasible way she’d experienced worse.

She smiled. “If you’re going to threaten me, at least make it creative. Burning me on a spike in front of your little house is very cliché.”

“I wasn’t joking.” I leaned closer and inhaled her icy scent. It burned. “And I’m being serious. Don’t worry, it’s not a little house. It’s an estate with plenty of land surrounding it. No one will ever hear you scream.”

Arabella harrumphed and studied her cuticles like my body wasn’t flush against hers. Like I wasn’t pinning her to the wall.

Her tone dripped with arrogance. “I grew up in a palace. Trust me, I’m sure it would seem like a small house to me.”

I breathed in roughly.

She waved her hand dismissively. “No need to be embarrassed. It’s not your fault that you’re ugly and poor.”

Rage.

I’d crush her into little pieces.

Then light them on fire.

I’d show her what it meant to be an Ignis. What it meant to play with people’s souls.

Why I was a devil king.

A monster.

Chapter 2

Corvus Malum

CONSEQUENCES

The beginning: Shackles—Day 1, hour 0

Flames crackled louder as I struggled with control.

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