Page 212 of Psycho Beasts

Cigarette smoke was a hazy cloud.

The glittering fabrics on the main streets, as people jostled to get into the ritzy clubs, were so very different from the heavy eye makeup and leather-clad bodies that slithered through the alley.

I looked out of place in my sheer nightie, with white feathers and crystals glowing against my golden skin.

The men, however, fit in.

They wore matching black leather pants, and their torsos were bare except for black leather straps that crisscrossed over their biceps and pecs.

Black kohl was smudged around their eyes.

Jax’s nipple piercings and golden chains glinted against his glistening dark skin. Ascher’s colorful flame-and-rose tattoos glowed underneath the neon lights. Cobra’s jewels refracted specks of light across the dingy alley walls.

I shivered as Ascher pressed his hand against my lower back and led me forward.

His warm skin burned through the sheer material.

Xerxes glanced down at me, purple eyes flickering with heat. “Are you okay, baby girl?”

I nodded.

Xerxes hardened his jaw and looked away, like he could see the lie on my face and it physically pained him.

He’d purposefully left himself unconcealed, spicy cinnamon wafting off him. His long hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, highlighting the spiked leather collar wrapped around his neck.

Cobra held the silver chain attached to it, wrapped tightly around his hand, a scowl darkening his handsome face as he roughly yanked Xerxes forward.

A reminder of what we were here to do.

Muscles rippling, faces tight with tension, the men looked like demons of lore, and people stared as they stumbled out of the way.

Violence clung to them.

I breathed in dirty rain and exhaled calm.

I pushed all the messed-up things back into the deep recess of my brain. Where they couldn’t touch me.

Rain drizzled harder, and black kohl streaked down their faces like war paint.

Through the rainy haze, a symbol on a neon sign flickered—it was a black ribbon.

A long line wrapped against the wall, but unlike those in the static lines on the main street, bodies pressed against one another.

Hips gyrated in sync.

The line thrashed with pleasure.

Xerxes shook his head and pointed us forward. Then Cobra tugged him along, like he was in the lead.

Under the flickering sign, a seven-foot-tall bouncer with thick leathery skin blocked the door. The alpha scent of wet grass wafted off him.

His nostrils flared as he leaned closer to Xerxes, and he said, “No weapons allowed.”

The bouncer patted us down and narrowed his eyes at the metal in Xerxes’s pocket.

“Sex knife.” Xerxes shrugged.

The bouncer leaned closer to him, and recognition sparked in his eyes. He hurried to unhook the velvet rope and let us through.