God of Malice (Legacy of Gods #1) by Rina Kent

His nostrils flare. It’s anger, it’s rage, but it’s not for the right reasons. “I’m giving you more than I’ve given anyone in my life, Glyndon. I’m giving you monogamy, dates that I usually don’t give a fuck about, and I’m even entertaining your friends and family. I’m sparing your brother, and choosing not to fight against your cousin, no matter how much he provokes me. I’m being fucking patient with your irritating fights and denials and dramatics. I told you that my tolerance and nice phases don’t come naturally. Not even a little, not even fucking close. So be grateful, take what I’m offering, and stop being fucking difficult every step of the way.”

I can’t control the tear that flows down my other cheek. “What you’re giving me isn’t enough.”

“Glyndon,” he grinds out.

I close my eyes. “I want to go home.”

“Open your fucking eyes.”

I do, though after a while, I repeat, assertively this time, “I want to go home.”

His jaw clenches, but he slowly releases me and goes to driver’s side.

I fall asleep with tears in my eyes and a shard of pain in my soul.

But the truth of the matter is, I should only blame myself for having feelings for a psycho.

A hand pats my shoulder and I wake up, thinking we’ve arrived at the dorm. Instead, we’re in front of a plane.

Maybe I drank too much or I’m imagining we’re in the airport.

Killian appears at my door, his face closed, looking like a dark lord with a taste for little girls. “Time to go.”

“Go where?” I ask, half-spooked, half-drunk.

His index finger taps the door. “Home.”





31





KILLIAN





“Tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not sober enough for your games, Killian.”

“We’re really flying. Oh my God, what the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m calling the police. Can we call the police from the air? Hello, officer, I’m being kidnapped by a crazy psycho.”

“I can’t believe Annika gave you my passport. You threatened her, didn’t you?”

“I don’t even like flying. It’s scary. I didn’t call Grandpa first. What if I never talk to him again?”

“If I die, I’ll turn into a scary ghost and haunt the hell out of you, prick. I’ll live in your nightmares.”

“Gareth, do something!”

That, in a nutshell, was the word vomit Glyndon graced us with during the flight. Her sense of panic grew with every minute and so did her imagination.

I had to stop her after she asked Gareth for help. Because fuck that guy.

He should’ve chosen not to join us. So what if he was supposed to go back home on his own and even asked Nikolai for his private jet? And yes, I might have hijacked his flight, but still, he goes back all the time. He could’ve let us have the plane all to ourselves.

The jet is spacious enough to fit a small army with all their equipment. The comfortable chairs are made of high-quality leather and are spacious enough to fit two people.

Uncle Kyle bought this baby as a gift for Aunt Rai on one of their anniversaries, and Nikolai kinds of steals it whenever he needs to fly home—and Gareth, in retrospect.

Not me, because I only go back to the States in the summer.

Knowing his presence is unwanted, Gareth lounges on a seat by the window a few rows ahead of us, buds in ear and a tablet in hand.

I’m by the window while Glyndon is beside me, her pupils dilated and her lips puffed out and parted. But since she’s a slippery rabbit, she still cranes her head to watch the scenery, despite her obvious aerophobia.

She’s been stiff, had multiple freak-out sessions, and drove herself to the point of panic in only the half hour since we departed. And while focusing on her has been dulling my thoughts about where we’re going, I don’t like seeing her like this.

The good thing is that the fear and a cup of coffee have sobered her up a little.

She’s still a bit drunk, judging by the slow blinking and the glittering in her bright green eyes.

“Stop looking out the window if you’re so scared.”

“What if we fall, like nosedive straight into the ocean. We’ll all die, be eaten by sharks, and they might never find us. It’ll hurt so bad.”

“Actually no, we’re over twenty thousand feet up, so if we do fall from this height, the g-force of it will black us out in about twenty seconds. The good news is, you’ll feel nothing. Bad news, there will be no remains to recuperate since the power of the crash will disintegrate us and the body of the plane.”

She finally wrenches her attention from the window to stare at me as if I murdered her favorite puppy. “Was that supposed to make me feel better?”

“Depends on whether or not you stop thinking we’ll crash. Those aren’t really common.”

“But they happen.”

“Then think of this as your last battle cry. Wanna have one final fuck?”

“You’re not funny.” She swallows. “Flights really make me nervous. It’s why I make Cecily and Ava drive with me all the way from London to the island.”

“That’s because your head is in the wrong place. Instead of focusing on the crash and the plane, you need to occupy your time with something else.”