Page 28 of Psycho Beasts

He paused dramatically,

Everyone glared at him as we swung back and forth from the fucking ceiling. Who was going to tell him we didn’t need any more drama?

The mood was already set.

Finally, Spike clapped his hands. “Congratulations! You passed the first initiation test.” He showcased his four teeth. “The first test has a passage rate of less than 1 percent, so you should all be proud.”

His smile transformed into a savage look as he sneered down at the mess of gore on the floor. “The other alphas answered the question…and they were set free. Just like we promised.”

“Freedom” clearly had a different meaning to Spike.

Although, I guessed their brains were freely splattered across the white floor.

I chuckled, then frowned because that was really not funny.

I needed a therapist immediately.

Spike’s smile returned. “You will be contacted with your next initiation challenge. Congratulations, you are one-third of the way to getting your tattoo.”

Wait, what?

Abruptly, Spike pulled out a wicked-looking knife and sawed at the ropes around my wrist.

Of course, he didn’t bother to catch my limp body. He definitely could have.

A positive: Most of the gore covered the far side of the room, so I didn’t fall into it.

A negative: I slammed down, face forward, legs and arms sprawled, onto the hard cement.

Weren’t cats supposed to always land on their feet?

I could not emphasize how much I landed completely on my belly.

The story of my life should have been titled Sadie: The Bitch Who Was in Pain.

Existence fucking hurt.

Anyone who said differently lived a pampered fucking life and shouldn’t be trusted.

My last shred of dignity was the only thing that kept me from passing out onto the cement as agony rocked through me.

Instead, because I was a bad bitch—who for some unknown reason kept fighting against the sweet caress of death—I battled gravity and dragged my aching limbs off the floor.

Impressively, I stood up.

Well, if being half-keeled-over and moaning like a polar bear was considered standing.

Spike cut down Xerxes, and he scrambled next to me.

Silently, the omega tossed an arm around my shoulder, and we leaned against each other.

Just two adults using each other for support.

No biggie.

I pretended not to notice that Xerxes was still staring at me. If he wanted to be weird, that was his prerogative.

Instead of worrying about Xerxes’s strange energy, I focused on the other men.