Page 289 of Psycho Gods

“We’ve paid for your therapy,” Dick said harshly, “and we’ve been informed that you’ve been practicing—is that not true?”

“It’s true,” Corvus said. “Howev—”

Dick interrupted, “Then it’s decided. Good luck, soldiers.”

The screen went dark.

“See you tomorrow on the battlefield,” the angels sneered at me as they left the room.

From their tone, they thought this was my fault.

Sadie and Jinx both turned to me with worry.

“You guys go ahead. I need to speak to my legion.” I tried to sound reassuring, but I shivered with nerves and ice spread across the floor beneath me.

They reluctantly left the room.

Seven men stared at me expectantly.

“Um, you two can also go,” I said to the demons.

Vegar rolled his eyes and sat down in a leather chair. “No, thank you,” he said. “We’ll stay here where it’s safe.” Zenith nodded as he sat down next to him.

“It was an accident,” Malum mumbled petulantly, referring to the bathroom he’d destroyed in a fit of rage. “No one got hurt.”

Vegar scoffed. “We’re staying.” He turned in his chair to face Zenith and gave us his back, a clear dismissal.

“Whatever.” I stomped out into the raging blizzard, and five men ran to surround me.

John threw his arm over my shoulder and tucked me against his side as he turned to protect me from the harsh snow.

Luka wrapped his hand around my curls and leaned close. “Are you okay?” he whispered, dark circles stark under his worried eyes as snow gathered on his lashes.

“I think so,” I said honestly.

He pressed a soft kiss onto my forehead.

Like personal guards, Scorpius and Orion fell into protective positions in front of me. Malum walked behind me, his flames shedding warmth that fought against the icy wind.

They formed a wall of protection.

When we got back to the sleeping barracks, Scorpius dusted snow off my hair while Orion helped me out of my coat.

Malum knelt at my feet and pulled off my combat boots, and I opened my mouth to complain that I could do it myself, but he gave me a death glare. “Let me serve you. Your leg is still healing.”

“It’s healed.” I smacked my leg to demonstrate and nearly threw up. It burned with agony.

Malum grabbed my wrist. “What the fuck? Don’t hurt yourself.” His eyes widened like he was panicking.

“Let me clarify,” I said calmly. “It’s almost healed.”

“No. It’s not.” He dragged his hand over his shaved head and breathed shallowly.

I accidentally (on purpose) kicked off my combat boot straight into his gut to show him how well it worked.

“Don’t hurt yourself!” Malum barked with concern as he caught my boot.

Yet again, he missed the point.