Page 73 of Psycho Beasts

Jax’s chest rumbled with a warning growl, and my jewels transformed into shadows.

My snakes wanted to join in the chaos. To bite.

Alone, we were unwell.

Connected, we were fucking psychos.

Abruptly, a knock sounded through the room like a gunshot.

Jax stilled, his hand clutching Xerxes’s and Ascher’s shirts as they pummeled each other with their fists.

With a heavy sigh, I sauntered toward the door.

The bond strummed higher with aggression until it burned my chest like a brand.

My eyes flickered between snake eyes and human ones; my vision oscillated from normal to heat signatures.

I flung open the door and stilled because the object of all our fucking problems leaned casually against the door.

Sadie wore a fuzzy sweatshirt that dwarfed her. Her bruises were fading, and her white hair was a silky sheet that I longed to wrap around my fists.

My cock stirred.

Sweet cranberry wine stroked my senses enticingly.

“Um, am I interrupting something?” Sadie gnawed on her plush lower lip as she took in the shadow snakes on my skin, and the other three men in a pile of fists.

Her broken voice was a harsh rasp.

In her oversize fuzzy clothes, she reminded me of the kitten I always called her.

For the first time, the bond connecting the four of us stopped goading us to violence.

The high-pitched whine burning through all of us abruptly dissipated, leaving a cool tingle.

Instantly, we calmed down.

I licked my suddenly parched lips. “Depends on what you want from us.” The insinuation was clear from my sultry tone, and I slowly adjusted my throbbing cock in my pants. In case she didn’t get my message.

Sadie sighed heavily and rubbed at her eyes.

A pang of pain stabbed through our new bond. She looked small and exhausted, and it was our job to protect her from pain.

Not cause it.

I shook my head in confusion. Those weren’t my thoughts; they were the thoughts of my new packmates.

She might be tired, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t fuck the exhaustion out of her and make it better.

Another pang of pain pinched my chest.

The men clearly did not agree with me.

It was hard to decipher what the bond meant, but images of protecting and comforting her flashed through my mind.

The other three wanted to coddle her.

Was this what having a conscience was like, an overwhelming feeling of softness and confusion?