Page 140 of Her Psycho Beasts

Loud engines catch my attention as I crouch in my hiding spot. Two shiny, expensive looking motorbikes roar into the petrol station, turning sharply, ridden by two big males.

Fuck. Them.

They look hot andunbothered. So hot that a mad thought wonders what it would be like to have both of them fuck me on the back of one of those bikes.

The dehydration must be making me loopy. Hunger must be making me horny.

Both roll to a stop at one of the pumps and take off their helmets. Scythe tosses his head back, his sheet of silver hair catching the sunlight and almost blinding me from this angle.

Gods, I want to hate him. But it’s only a flare of desire and the need to be close to my mate spiking through my body.

Xander is dressed in biking leathers, his long hair is braided down his back, and how the hell does that make him ten times more attractive? I’m left panting, andnotfrom exertion.

The way I see it, I have two options. Stay here and hide. Or…

In the end, I make an executive decision and choose to have the same audacity Scythe clearly has, and I shift into human form.

Completely starkers, I stalk out from the bushes, past the two beasts and the people filling their cars, who stare open-mouthed at my naked form. There’ll probably be a complaint made to the nudity patrol. They’re the people who find feral animalia and berate them for offending the humans with nudity or urine marking or sniffing asses. The very things they’re training us out of at the academy. Maybe I’ll get a fine in the mail.

Maybe it’ll be a thank you note.

I pretend I don’t see the humans, or feel Scythe’s focused stare, and head right into the service station, smoothing my hair down so I don’t look so bush-woman.

There’s a guy paying for his petrol at the counter and I line up behind him like it’s a regular day for me. The twenty-something behind the counter stares at me as he puts through a transaction for the other guy. When a forty-something male human customer turns around, he freezes like a kangaroo in headlights.

“Move along,” I say with deep, supreme authority, turning to the side and sweeping out an arm.

Wide-eyed, he obeys.

Satisfied, I step up to the counter and the poor guy doesn’t know where to look. He blinks rapidly in quick succession, eyes flicking down to my breasts, then my scars, and back up again. I probably look like I get into fights all the time. Maybe the scars have a benefit after all.

“Can I have some water, please?” I ask, smiling sweetly. “I lost my phone, so I can’t pay.”

“Um. What? Yeah. Yeah, okay. There’s a cooler at the back. It’s free.” He hands me a paper cup and I take it with a smile. I go to turn around, but he stops me.

“What order are you?”

I consider the question before saying, “Everything.”

He nervously adjusts his cap. “Cool, cool. Do you want some food as well?”

Cocking my head, I regard him. “Yeah, okay.”

He proceeds to run around the counter and to the back of the shop and hands me two sausage rolls, tomato sauce, and a bag of chips. I also take an iced coffee for good measure, and he lets me without a word. He seemskeento help. Enthusiastic even.

I hope Xander is watching this.

Turns out that the tits out, buns out lifestyle isn’t so bad after all.

With a grin on my face, I shovel the food in my mouth and down the coffee. Humans walk in and out to pay for their petrol, but I pretend this is perfectly normal and focus on my food. After I lick my fingers clean, I head out the back with a giant key and use the bathroom, because I’m not a complete feral and still need toilet paper. After I’m satisfied, I stalk back out.

Scythe and Xander lean against their bikes, arms resting casually in their laps, helmeted heads following my every movement. The humans stare at them nervously.

I feel like Jason Bourne.

Exceptthatguy wasn’t being tracked by a mate who’d been balls-deep in his aching pussy last night. And if he had been, I’d missed that part.

Grumbling under my breath as I reach the edge of the walkway, I violently explode into my eagle form and sweep my wings in powerful downward sweeps, taking to the air. Trying to ignore the roar of motorbikes now following me, I let the joy of the wind and height take me over. The familiar elation of stretching out my wings and eating up the distance brings me nothing but joy. Eventually, I manage to lose them with my superior speed, but I just know they’re somewhere behind me.

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