Page 54 of Psycho Beasts
She’d been going through her preteen phase. Meanwhile, I’d been going through my “terrified Dick was secretly hurting my little sister too” phase.
Moral of the story: I could break down a door.
Xerxes took another deep breath and looked down at me with exasperation. “I can open the door.” The muscle in his jaw ticked, like something was upsetting him.
We still didn’t enter.
“Okay, whatever you say, big man.” Men really needed to learn when to ask for help.
Startlingly fast, Xerxes moved and pressed himself against me, caging me in.
Up close, the purple of his eyes looked like an amethyst quartz. Flecks of light purple and white created an otherworldly sparkle. He really was unfairly pretty.
Xerxes rasped softly, “I want to show you my nest.”
My heart skipped a beat.
I whispered softly, “Do you lay eggs?” Had I missed the signs all along? Was Xerxes part bird, part kitten?
My mind stuttered as I tried to picture it.
A broken chuckle burst from his chest. “My omega nest, you idiot.” He groaned and leaned his forehead against mine.
“Oh.” A faint memory of reading about an omega’s safe haven tickled the back of my brain. I couldn’t remember any of the specifics, just that the book made a big deal about their importance.
His cinnamon scent spiked until it coated my mouth in sugar spice.
I fought the urge to lick my lips.
Just for a taste.
My gut pinched under the intensity of his stare. He wasn’t just asking me to see his nest; this was something more, and the smart thing would have been to tell him I needed space.
To back away and say that I wasn’t ready and that I needed to recover from recent events. That we should wait and not put pressure on anything because I wasn’t ready for an omega-alpha relationship.
“Show me.” My broken voice was too loud in the quiet alcove.
No one had ever called me smart.
No one had ever said, “Sadie, she’s a clever one. That girl has a bright future.” However, I’d been labeled mentally unhinged with homicidal impulses plenty of times.
In fact, a teacher had once told me, “You’re going to die someday in a violent, terrifying way.”
To be fair, I’d made a farting noise with my armpit every time she’d spoken, and had spread a rumor that she shit in the shower. I was thirteen, for sun god’s sake; what else was I supposed to do?
Xerxes reached forward and trailed his long, callused fingers down my sensitive neck.
Goose bumps marked his trail.
A low purr rumbled from my chest as he bent closer until our breath mingled. His words tickled my mouth. “Good girl.”
In that moment, I learned something very important about myself: I had a praise kink.
Xerxes pulled back. Cinnamon sugar burned my lungs, and he shoved open the heavy door.
When my eyes adjusted to the dim light, I gasped.
“Welcome to my nest.”