Page 225 of Psycho Gods

Warm lips suddenly slammed against mine as Malum kissed me passionately. He claimed me with his tongue, and I melted. I kissed him back with equal fervor.

When he pulled away, we were both panting heavily.

I fingered my tingling lip and looked at him questioningly.

“Because I wanted to,” he said as he started walking back down the mountain. It would be a long trek with me in his arms, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he looked pleased to be carrying me.

It made sense.

Men had evolved into stronger bodies so they could carry their superiors (women) around all day.

“Tell me about your childhood,” he said out of the blue.

I played with my mittens. “It’s not a pleasant story.”

“I’m sorry for not asking before. It’s your story, and I want to know more about you—please, Aran.”

It was the first time he’d apologized without sounding arrogant. He looked down at me with such a hopeful expression that my heart twisted.

I began to talk.

I told him every gritty detail about what it was like growing up. For some reason, I told him things I’d never dared tell anyone else.

His silver eyes glimmered with understanding. He’d also walked through hell.

For hours, he carried me down a side of a mountain, and for hours, I told him what it was like growing up as the powerless royal heir of the mad queen.

He didn’t get angry.

Not once.

Instead, he stayed calm and nodded, tucking me tighter against his chest like he could squeeze the pain out of me.

“It’s all behind you,” he said as we got back to the war camp.

I was amazed that he’d learned so many terrible things about my past and hadn’t threatened to kill anyone. Not once. He was maturing.

I smiled at him as he tucked me gently into bed. “Thanks for not going on a homicidal rampage.”

He laughed awkwardly and pressed a soft kiss to my forehead.

Butterflies fluttered in my stomach.

“Move over,” Malum said as he pushed his oversized body into my bunk.

“What are you doing?” I shrieked as he fit himself into a space that was designed for a person half his size.

He was pressed flush against me.

“Let’s keep talking,” he whispered.

I couldn’t hide my smile. Even though we’d already been talking for hours, I hadn’t wanted our conversation to end.

“You should tell me about yourself this time,” I suggested. “What do you miss most about the devil realm?”

“The peace,” he said immediately.

He launched into a story about rolling hills and solitude. With his baritone voice, he should have been a storyteller. My toes curled.