Page 150 of Psycho Beasts

There was a long silence as I assumed Xerxes was hurrying to open the door for me.

Nothing happened.

“Let me in!” I yelled maturely and stomped my foot.

“No! Fucking leave!” Xerxes snarled, his honey accent thicker with rage.

My jaw dropped, and my chest cramped with pain. After everything that had happened, that was how he was going to play it.

At this point, a better woman, who respected boundaries, would have taken the hint and promised to visit later.

But I hadn’t braved the exhausting trek down the hall to be turned away because a man was having a meltdown. And it rained every day; what else was new?

I took a deep, centering breath, then bellowed, “If you don’t let me in, I’m breaking down the door.”

There was the sound of someone banging into something and swearing. “Wait, what?”

I took a step back and girded my lady loins. “With my bones still healing, I am about to 100 percent shatter my femur!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The shout from inside the room was feral.

Wasn’t the bond supposed to stop that from happening?

I narrowed my eyes and tried to envision busting through the heavy, ornate structure. “Then last warning. Open the door or I’m coming in.” Was it made of steel or wood? I prayed to the moon goddess for the latter.

“No! Sadie, you are not coming in here!”

I sighed depressively. That was not the right answer.

With another deep breath, I channeled my very, very, very repressed inner warrior woman. She did not like being woken up and was more prone to long naps and giving up, than to action.

Midswing, the door glinted in the soft chandelier flames. It was 100 percent steel, and I was about to shatter every bone in my right leg.

I was a dumb bitch.

There was no way to halt the momentum spinning me forward, so I squinted and prepared for agony.

It never came.

Instead, there was a soft grunt, and large hands easily caught my leg midkick.

It took me a moment to realize that Xerxes had slammed open the door and grabbed me.

Long blond hair hung down to his butt in soft, shiny waves, and his impressive chest was bare of clothes.

Sweatpants hung low on his hips, snagging on the edges of his indented V lines.

Xerxes breathed deeply, and his sculpted eight-pack rippled at the motion. His olive skin pulled across it deliciously, and I was hyperaware of how large the hands were that held my calf.

My mouth watered as I ogled the sheer perfection that was Xerxes’s six-foot-five frame.

He might be an omega, but he was more impressive than most of the alphas I’d fought.

I flushed as I realized I’d been licking my lips and staring at his abs like a possessed woman.

When I glanced up at his face, my pulse sped up for a different reason.

Xerxes’s eyes glowed electric purple, and he was staring reverently down at my sweatpants-clothed leg that he was still holding in his hands.