Psycho Academy : Aran’s Story Book 1 (Cruel Shifterverse 4)
Psycho Academy : Chapter 11

The breaking period: Day 2, hour 12

I drifted away in silence.

Just me, myself, and my monster.

Bright lights and loud sounds accosted me out of nowhere, and my cells exploded at the sudden onslaught.

After being alone in the darkness for so long, everything throbbed with pain.

Curled into a fetal position, I whimpered, “Turn it off.” I missed the cloak of darkness.

“Get the fuck out of the tank,” Malum said roughly, and in my hypersensitive state, his deep voice made all the hairs on my body stand up.

Callused hands grabbed my arms and threw me to the ground.

The three kings spoke to one another, and there were no other sounds. I was alone with them.

I bit down on my lip to stop from screaming as my broken arm jarred across the hard rocks.

It usually took me about two days to heal broken bones, so I must not have been in the tank for that long. It was an eternity.

The hard floor was abrasive against my sensitive skin, and everything was fuzzy as my eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light. A loud buzzing filled my ears.

Malum’s terrifyingly handsome face leaned close as silver eyes glared at me. “Just what the fuck are you, Egan?” He spat my last name like it was a curse.

My scalp prickled with pain as Scorpius once again tangled his fingers in my curls and yanked me up by my head.

I stumbled and pushed against him, desperate to orient myself. I was stunned speechless when ice-cold fingers, longer and thinner than Malum’s, dragged across my face.

Featherlight fingers trailed down my forehead, across my cheekbones, and along my jaw.

He mapped my face.

Scorpius’s breath caught as he touched me like he was surprised by what he found.

For a second, I forgot to breathe.

“Just as ugly as I thought,” Scorpius sneered.

He wrenched my head to the side at an impossible angle and asked, “You think you can lie to us and get away with it?”

My head ached, and I groaned with misery, still too disoriented to do anything other than fight weakly.

Chilly fingers pushed my curly hair to the side and traced my exposed ears. Scorpius chuckled, and I shivered.

“Just as I suspected, he doesn’t even have fae ears.”

“What?” Malum sounded like an animal growling. “You think you can train alongside us and lie to us? You think you’re so much better than us?”

My vision adjusted to the light just in time to see Malum’s flaming fist arching toward my stomach.

Pain exploded across my sensitive skin.

I bit down on my tongue and forced my muscles to relax so I hung limp in Scorpius’s harsh grip.

History had taught me not to fight back or antagonize my abusers.

They would do whatever they wanted to do to my body, but how I responded controlled the narrative of events.

If I struggled against Mother, then I was an ungrateful bitch that needed to be hurt more to instill obedience. But if I was docile and took it quietly, then I was just a nuisance that had learned my lesson.

It was clear what was happening.

The kings wanted me agitated so I’d reveal my secrets. They were taking advantage of the torture tank and trying to interrogate me when I was at my weakest.

They’d misjudged me.

Sure, I might be courting insanity and suffering from at least a dozen undiagnosed mental traumas, but I wasn’t dumb.

They’d have to be smarter.

Muscles relaxed, eyes dead, expression blank, I stared up at Orion pleadingly as Malum slammed his fist into my stomach. He was the only one who might care enough to stop them. Probably the only one with a soul.

Pain exploded across my cells like an old friend.

He kept punching me.

I needed a smoke.

Malum’s face hardened, sculpted lines tightening with rage as he realized I wasn’t going to fight back.

Orion stepped up beside him, and I kept making eye contact while hanging pathetically.

However, the corner of the bastard’s lips smirked upward like he knew what I was doing. There was a twinkle in his eye. A literal fucking twinkle.

Orion didn’t tell them to stop.

Scorpius wrenched my head back further as Malum kept ramming his flaming fist into my stomach, and I did nothing but take it.

From what I could tell, we were in a structure that appeared to be a smaller version of the barracks. Wind pounded against the outside, and water crashed.

We must be in the small shedlike building I’d seen tucked behind the barracks.

Behind Malum, the only thing in the room was a large silver egg. A hollow structure just big enough for a body to fit inside.

Just me and the three kings and a sensory deprivation tank on an island.

It seemed like the beginning of a bad joke.

I was too tired to care.

The kings could do whatever they wanted to my body, but they wouldn’t know to eat my heart, and I would never die.

What a fucking fate.

I needed to get drunk.

Mother had always wanted me to be stronger. Now I was taking a beating and barely noticing it.

You couldn’t say the woman didn’t know how to get results.

A manic chuckle escaped my lips as Malum once again reared his fist back.

He stilled. “What the fuck are you laughing at? Are you going to threaten to eat my flesh again or are you still pretending to not be a psycho? The ruse is fucking up. Just tell us what you are and we won’t have to do this.”

“Who said I was pretending?” I was genuinely curious why he thought I was acting. I’d been very clear from the beginning that I was cripplingly dependent on drugs and really not well.

“I don’t know, Malum, I’m kind of enjoying this,” Scorpius sneered as he wrenched my head back further.

He was 100 percent a sadist.

So boring and predictable. Dr. Palmer would tell him to just keep a journal and write positive thoughts.

I’d never really thought about what I wanted in a male partner, but now I realized I wanted them to be completely unhinged. Like, super messed up in the head. I wanted to look at them and think, I’m normal.

They would bring me flowers and tell me I was being cute when I killed someone.

And when they razed the world to the ground for me, I’d compliment them on their technique.

Was that too much to ask for?

Orion stepped forward, bit down on his ridiculously plush lower lip, and leaned so close that I could see the dark swirls of his eyes and the intricate details of the flower tattoo that covered his neck.

Warm breath left his lush lips in a soft whoosh and tickled the side of my face.

Are you my fictional man?

“Who are you?” he whispered so softly I could barely hear it. I understood him by reading his lips.

My spirits sank. He wasn’t coming to tell me that the universe had sent him to be my dark protector.

Disappointing.

I’d have to keep on the lookout for sexy monsters. Malum and Scorpius definitely did not count. They just pissed me off and didn’t treat me with even a smidge of the reverence I would expect from my dream man.

As if to emphasize my point, Scorpius wrenched my head back even further so it felt like my neck was going to break.

The angle aggravated the wound on my back.

“You’re going to be a virgin forever,” Mother had promised, and her taunt reminded me why I wasn’t searching for a man.

I dismissed that thought.

My fictional man wouldn’t need to have sex with me to replace completion. He’d be so overwhelmed with my beauty he’d come from just looking at me.

Endless moments passed, and I realized they were all waiting for me to answer.

I giggled.

The three fae kings were frothing at the mouth, trying to get me to reveal my secrets. Meanwhile I was detaching from reality and building the perfect man.

Sun god, I loved being a woman.

Forehead relaxed, shoulders lowered, I stared straight into Orion’s chocolate eyes and said, “I’m Aran Egan, water fae from the fae realm and cousin of the monarchy.”

Orion arched a golden brow like he knew I was lying.

I arched my brow back.

“Liar,” Scorpius whispered into my ear, and Malum slammed his fist into my stomach with so much force that hair ripped from my scalp into Scorpius’s grip.

I doubled forward and dry-heaved.

“Erotic,” I muttered.

Good thing I hadn’t eaten in days.

Straightening up slowly, I infused my voice with strength as I stared blankly at Malum. “I’m exactly who I say I am. I was born with a rare genetic disease that results in disfigured ears. Because of my disorder, I have episodes of uncontrollable rage.”

The knife tattooed on his neck rippled. Malum narrowed his eyes like he couldn’t decide if I was lying or not. Scorpius’s grip in my hair lessened.

Orion scoffed, but no one was paying him attention.

I spoke like Mother did when she read a death sentence to one of her citizens. My voice was unrelenting and firm.

“I’ve never manifested any ability other than ice daggers, and sometimes the rage overtakes me. That is it. You can beat me till I bleed. Torture me until there’s nothing left, but that’s the truth. I’ve just come out of the tank. Do you really think I could lie right now?”

The fingers in my hair lessened further, and Malum took another step back.

“He does seem pampered and pathetic. That would be hard to do,” Scorpius mused.

Orion mouthed, “I don’t believe you.”

My stomach fluttered like he was flirting with me.

I needed to be put down.

Instead of focusing on the gorgeous, quiet man who was quickly gaining my fascination, I plowed ahead. “I’m not lying. I don’t know what else you want from me. If I was some unique creature, do you really think I’d barely have survived the ocean? I barely just survived the run!”

Silence stretched as they considered it.

The best lies were closest to the truth, after all, and I believed everything I’d just said.

I yelped with surprise when Scorpius suddenly released me and shoved me to the ground.

“Get up,” Malum barked, and I scrambled to my feet, then became annoyed that I’d obeyed him instinctively. “We’ll be watching you, Egan.”

With those comforting words, the three kings turned and stomped out of the structure.

Orion gave me a lingering glance over the shoulder but turned away when Malum placed a hand on his lower back and led him out the door.

I suddenly had a burning, irrational urge to steal him away from the two other men. A bubble of happiness grew in my chest as I imagined Malum’s face when he realized his man had left him for me.

What the actual fuck is wrong with me?

Gingerly, I turned around and started to come up with a plan. After analyzing the situation from all angles, I did the only thing I could do.

I punched myself in the throat.

Gagging, I let the pain remind me that I was that bitch. Which meant I needed to stop having intense dissociations where I created romantic scenarios with the men who were literally beating me up.

Plan accomplished, I felt a lot better.

Oh my sun god. Is this Stockholm syndrome?

If I ever got back to the beast realm, Dr. Palmer was going to need therapy for herself after we unpacked all my new issues.

And to think she’d told me, “You’re as ill as a person can be,” before all these recent developments. I knew she was a quack.

Joke’s on her—I was still getting worse.

“What the fuck are you still in there for? Follow us!” Malum shouted and startled me.

That was how, a few minutes later, I found myself sitting in the great hall beside John and the other recruits at the small table on the dais.

A steaming buffet of exotic foods was spread out on the table before us, and everyone helped themselves.

The large hands on the clock said it was 8:00 p.m., and I estimated I’d been in the tank for a few hours.

All the tables were full.

Royals and commoners chatted happily and stuffed their faces. They were all nicely dressed and didn’t look sleep-deprived. Unrelatable.

My teeth started to chatter as the cold fortress floors burned against my toes. It didn’t help that my clothes were once again crusted with salty water.

I was no longer jealous of the other students’ finery.

Similar to the royals, the commoners wore tailored dresses and suits. The only difference was that their clothes were a deep forest green instead of a plum purple.

At least my black outfit matched my mood.

It seemed dumb to wear a dress or a suit to dinner. Like, didn’t they have anything better to do?

People were literally being tortured.

I was people.

The time in the tank had left me in a sore mood, and I was jumpy and on edge. Every noise was too loud, and the light was too harsh.

The wet cotton material of my clothes scratched like nails.

I had to clench my hands into fists and repeatedly swallow down screams every time someone moved their chair and it made a harsh sound.

The only blessing was that our small table was silent. We were all exhausted.

I pushed my food back and forth on my plate and slumped low with misery, flinching anytime a recruit at the small table talked too loudly.

“We lifted boulders the entire time you were in the tank,” John said when he caught me staring at the rips in his sweatshirt and bleeding cuts along his biceps.

He flashed his dimples. “So how was the tank? Do you feel like screaming right now?”

I furrowed my brow. How did he know that?

John laughed at my expression. “In the beginning, I spent my fair share of time in the tank. Trust me, I know how it feels. Everything is so overstimulating afterward that your body can’t process how to react.”

“Yeah, just like that,” I mumbled as I took a small bite.

I was ravenously hungry, yet my stomach cramped unpleasantly with each bite of food, and nausea overwhelmed me.

It didn’t help that Malum’s fist had pummeled me. I lifted my sweatshirt up discreetly and checked out the patchwork of black-and-blue bruises that marred my pale skin.

It looked heinous.

Even without the kings’ handiwork, the ocean, the classwork, the long run, the monster issue, and my time in the tank had fucked me up.

It didn’t help that a large plate of ribs was sitting right in front of me at the narrow table.

The scent made my stomach gurgle unpleasantly. I tried not to breathe in.

Ever since the “incident” with my mother, I hadn’t been able to stomach the scent or taste of meat.

It was all too familiar.

Back in the beast realm, Jinx had told me I was “the first cannibal vegetarian and an embarrassment to the family.”

I missed her.

A few seats down, Horace gulped from a massive glass that definitely didn’t hold wine. Red dripped down his lips, and he licked it greedily.

I slumped lower in my chair, buried my head in one hand, and moaned softly as I rode out another wave of nausea. Yawning as exhaustion hit me, I cradled my broken arm against my chest.

You’d think the tank would have been an ideal sleeping spot. But something about the lack of stimulation had made my brain think too much to fall asleep.

My monster had been loud.

I just needed a few hours of rest to forget about my pain—forget that I’d released my monster from its cage and let it control me.

The marble table was cool against my forehead as I slumped forward and closed my eyes.

Half delirious, I sank into a dreamlike state.

I was running. I was drowning in the ocean waves. Lothaire was screaming at me and beating me with his baton. The kings were beating me. Mother was lighting me on fire.

All I knew was nightmares.

I jolted awake for a second, then shut my eyes again.

Think happy thoughts.

A handsome, tall dark man rubbed my back gently and told me he would vanquish all my enemies. He promised he’d bring me their heads on pikes for ever daring to upset me.

Then he moaned and trembled as he did nothing but stare down at me. He was coming.

I drifted into a peaceful slumber.

All was well.