Page 311 of Psycho Gods

There was soft, and then there was marshmallow squishy.

Malum cleared his throat. “They were going to be butchered, and I had the land.” His face turned maroon. “It was the right thing to do.”

I gawked at the man who’d tormented me at Elite Academy.

He refused to make eye contact.

Every time I thought I was beginning to understand him, he showed me another side.

The man had layers, or a severe personality disorder that needed heavy medicating.

The twins weren’t the Jekyll and Hyde, Malum was.

“Just to be crystal clear,” I said slowly, “you hate women and think they’re pathetic, but have miniature creatures with pink bows as pets?”

“I don’t hate women, I’ve told you that,” he said as he walked quicker toward the front entrance of the stunning estate. “Not anymore.”

I walked faster to keep up with him.

I giggled. “If only everyone at Elite Academy could see you with your ponies and goats.”

Flames trailed after him. “They’re not my animals, they’re the estate’s animals.”

“And you own the estate,” I said. “Just admit you like bows and secretly wish you were a woman.”

It all made sense.

I gasped. “That must be where all your repressed rage comes from. There’s no shame in owning it, I won’t judge. Gender is just a construct—"

Malum stopped walking, and I bumped into him.

He glared down at me. “I don’t want to be a woman, Arabella.”

“Denial is the first step to accepting yourself.” I shot him with a finger gun. “I honestly don’t mind.” I chewed my lips and really thought about it. “Actually—I think I might prefer it.”

Bronze fingers grabbed my chin and tipped my head gently back.

Malum leaned close—whiskey and tobacco assaulted my senses—as he whispered inches from my lips, “I don’t want to be a woman, I want to own one.”

My lips parted. I tasted his breath on my tongue, and it was like smoking the world’s most dangerous drug.

“Um, what?” I asked, unable to think.

Malum licked his lips slowly. “I want to own you, Arabella, body and soul. I want to earn your forgiveness. I want to spoil you. I want to show you what it means to be the Revered in the ancient illustrious House of Malum.”

“That’s a lot,” I whispered.

He pressed a gentle kiss against my lips like I was made of glass.

My head spun with lightheadedness.

“The House of Malum is renowned for cherishing its Revereds,” Malum whispered as he pulled back. “We will show you exactly what that means.” He looked over his shoulder at where the kings and twins were staring at us.

“Um, okay,” I said intelligently. “Good luck with that.” I patted him on the shoulder and walked past.

Why did you just call him buddy and pat him like he’s a dog? Get a grip, woman.

Unfortunately, I did not get a grip, because I saluted the rest of the men and said, “Aye, aye, soldiers.”