Page 42 of Psycho Shifters

“We wear green for training, and we have a private bathroom through this door. All your clothes are in the dresser next to your bed. You will train until you reveal your shifted form,” Jax said.

“Okay.” I looked away uncomfortably as Jax stared at me with his warm gray eyes.

It felt intimate having him look at me while I was in bed, even though I was completely covered in a massive sweatshirt and sweatpants.

Inexplicably, I fought the urge to pat down my hair, which was definitely sticking out in all directions.

My fingers dug into my palms, and I stopped myself from acting like a ninny.

“Are you okay after yesterday?” Jax asked softly, as he looked at me with concern.

“I’m fine. Let’s not talk about it.” I put force behind my words and tried to smile like I had a semblance of mental health left, like I wasn’t hanging on by a thread.

“Don’t clutter the bathroom, girl.” Cobra’s silky voice wasn’t scratchy like Ascher’s, but it was rougher than usual.

Goosebumps erupted.

However, the meaning of his words penetrated through my sleepy brain and anger flamed hot in my chest. Clearly, Cobra wasn’t worried about my well-being.

I didn’t even own anything to clutter the bathroom with.

My anger turned into a different type of warmth as Cobra sauntered shirtless across the room toward Jax.

The pale muscles on his wide back flexed and bunched with every sway of his hips. A trail of emerald diamonds snaked delicately down his spine. It was breathtaking.

When he reached forward and grabbed Jax’s face roughly with his hands, I should have looked away.

I stared.

Cobra slammed his mouth against Jax’s, and he aggressively kissed him.

Jax stood still for a moment, but then the much larger man fisted his hand in Cobra’s short, silky dark locks.

It was like watching two masculine gods collide in a show of might.

“Oh my sun god, relax, we get it. You have hot sex.” Ascher threw his pillow at Cobra’s back.

Jax chuckled and released Cobra’s face. Neither said anything to Ascher, but Cobra turned around and gave me a smirk.

I rolled my eyes at him and made a childish face back. I didn’t know why he was so concerned with staking his claim on Jax, because I was well aware the big man was out of my league.

Plus, I was never going to enter into a relationship; zero sexual experience ensured that. If I were in a league, it would be called “scrawny chicks with homicidal voices and general unwellness.”

Ascher crawled out of bed. “We have fifteen minutes to get ready. You might want to hurry.”

Once again, I was loving Ascher’s insinuations that I was some type of pampered princess.

Since my broken nose was still pounding on my face and I was covered in hideous bruises, I was really wondering how he had made these assumptions.

I opened my mouth to tell him to go fuck himself, but I quickly closed it.

Drool almost fell out.

Ascher stood shirtless in front of his bed, all six and a half feet of sculpted muscles on display.

His entire torso, arms, and neck were covered in intricate tattoos. Yet it wasn’t the gorgeous tattoos that had me praying to the moon goddess.

An eight-pack of tattooed abs literally rippled as he stretched his arms above his head.