Psycho Devils (Cruel Shifterverse, #5)

by Jasmine Mas

Yes, my aesthetic was mental illness; no, I didn’t want to talk about it.

I was no man’s princess. However, I was a whore. Being a slut wasn’t a title, it was a lifestyle.

I mean, the woman had been clinically insane. No judgment though. We all struggled. Except, maybe judgment because she’d lit me on fire every night for years? At least she’d been consistent. It was hard to find people with discipline these days.

Normalize gaslighting men.

Each day last week I’d woken up and said my morning affirmation: “I am the victim.”

Mentally, I was a slut. Physically, I was terrified of intimacy. Spiritually, I didn’t like men.

My new aesthetic was cozy, drug-dependent swamp monster. Not to brag, but I nailed the look.

I’d said it before, and I’d say it again: men were deranged, and they should all be shot. On sight. No questions asked.