Psycho Beasts (Cruel Shifterverse, #3)

by Jasmine Mas

I rolled my eyes and pushed past him. Who didn’t want to get initiated into a bloodthirsty gang against their will? Me. But I wasn’t about to pussy out because Ascher told me not to. I might be stupid, but I wasn’t dumb.

Xerxes rasped softly, “I want to show you my nest.” My heart skipped a beat. I whispered softly, “Do you lay eggs?” Had I missed the signs all along? Was Xerxes part bird, part kitten? My mind stuttered as I tried to picture it. A broken chuckle burst from his chest. “My omega nest, you idiot.” He groaned and leaned his forehead against mine. “Oh.” A faint memory of reading about an omega’s safe haven tickled the back of my brain. I couldn’t remember any of the specifics, just that the book made a big deal about their importance.

Do you lay eggs

We were on the same page—ignore the weird poem that no one wanted to hear and pretend like it had never happened. And do drugs. They were always the answer. Everyone knew that.

“Did you really try to die?” Jinx asked curiously. “Yeah, but the damn voice in my head wouldn’t let me,” I said honestly. There was another crack as I assumed Ascher punched the wall, and the bed shook with the vibrations from Cobra’s hiss. Jinx didn’t sound impressed. “Then why aren’t you dead?” “Jinx!” Jess and Jala said at once. “It’s rude to ask someone why they aren’t dead. We’ve talked about pretending to be normal,” Jess scolded her younger sister.

Also, I was slightly miffed because Xerxes hadn’t even offered to get me a glass of water after I’d hacked aggressively on his bed. He didn’t move an inch, just kept standing with his legs spread aggressively and penis out. A real power stance.

Apparently, I was the only one at the table who struggled in an academic setting, because my answer to the square root of three thousand would have been thirty. A sick realization hit me. Was Jinx right? Am I an idiot?

It was simple—if the men chose an omega after telling me they loved me, I would shoot them in the face. They were dead. If they really loved me, technically, they’d want me to kill them for betraying me. It made perfect sense. I sighed heavily. It sucked that I was going to have to kill all four of my lovers later tonight, but someone had to do it. What was the alternative? Let them be with another woman? I scoffed aloud. The only thing more depressing than my upcoming very tragic quadruple homicide was my best friend’s erratic behavior.

I needed time alone to eat hot dogs and plan their deaths without them interfering. What else did the universe want from me?

After putting the black glove on my hand, I flexed my knuckles and pressed down on the button on the palm. A wicked sharp knife sprang up where my left ring finger had once been. “I’m actually better now in hand-to-hand combat. Makes stabbing people easier.” Dr. Palmer narrowed her eyes, and the stark lines around her mouth became more severe. “You can admit to yourself that you miss having your finger.” I slashed the air dramatically. “Are you not seeing this weapon? I’m honestly glad it’s gone.” Aran, who was sitting next to me on the uncomfortable couch, nodded in agreement. “Do you see how sharp that knife is? Why would she want a finger?”

Dr. Palmer’s eyebrow twitched. A few minutes later, we were walking back into the mansion. “I don’t understand why she kicked us out. That was so rude,” Aran said with annoyance as we entered the foyer. I threw my hands up in agreement. “I get it—we’re not perfect—but she doesn’t have to be such a bitch about it? Like what does she want me to do, cry all day because I have terrifying scars and a cool knife? Sorry I’m not lame.” Aran nodded aggressively in agreement. “Exactly. Like okay, I’m not perfect. Sometimes I smother people in my sleep. It happens.” “And what bugs me is she gets so mad about you doing enchanted drugs. Meanwhile, she’s always drinking coffee. Make it make sense.”