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

I raise an eyebrow at the sure, assertive way he speaks. It’s a startling, absolutely appalling reminder of how my cousin was when he was around this fucker’s age.

Uncle must’ve made the connection, too, because his lips tighten in a line. “Landon tells me you have a history of violence, boy.”

“And so does he, but you don’t see me airing his dirty laundry for everyone to see. If I must say, it doesn’t look good on you, Landon.”

I can feel the tension radiating from my eldest son, but Bran pats his shoulder—or maybe grabs it in an attempt to stop him from going off like a bullet.

Among the four of us, Bran is definitely the only one who’s on the little shit’s side.

“Glyndon already chose him, Dad, and he makes her happy, so maybe you shouldn’t intervene,” is what he told me earlier.

Like fuck I won’t intervene.

The more I talk to him, the less I like him.

I simply did not raise my only daughter all these years to eventually hand her over to this sod.

“Look, I understand your reservations about me,” he continues in a serious tone. “But my use of violence was in my teens when my impulse control needed more work. Now, the only violence I indulge in is when I have to protect Glyndon. It is never directed at her or her friends and family.”

“Those are some pretty words,” Uncle says.

“I mean every one of them and I promise that I’ll keep her safe with my life.”

“That’s if you don’t accidentally lose your life in the meantime,” Landon mutters.

“Now, Landon.” I try to sound stern. “No threatening in front of outsiders. It could be used against you later.”

Killian merely smiles as if he didn’t hear the last bits of dialogue. “Glyndon said it’d be difficult for you to accept me, but I’m willing to try to get your approval for her sake—minus you, Landon. I don’t give a fuck about your opinion. Mr. and Mr. King, I respect you for bringing Glyndon up all these years. In fact, I tip my hat to you for protecting her during the time I wasn’t in her life, but know this—you’ll never be able to take her away from me. You can break my legs and arms, but I can still crawl toward her.”

“So you’re telling us that you’re not backing away from my daughter?”

“Not even close, not even a little.”

“Very well.” Uncle stands. “I’ll keep an eye on you, boy. Make that eyes, plural, and if I find out that you’ve hurt my princess in any way, I’ll make sure you never breathe properly again.”

“Here’s a piece of advice, Killian—the only one I’ll offer you. If you do cause pain to my daughter, you might want to voluntarily disappear, because I’ll kill you when I find you.”

“Please do. You have permission to do whatever you wish if I do cross a line, but you are not permitted to intervene or sabotage our relationship.”

“Are you threatening us?” I ask.

“Of course not.” He smiles in that annoying way. “I’m just relaying a piece of information.”

Uncle stares at him, then walks out, and I follow after, leaving my sons with the vermin.

As we step out, I can hear Killian and Landon exchanging passive-aggressive remarks while Brandon tries to cool off the atmosphere.

“I need you to watch that boy closely, Levi,” Uncle says once we’re down the hall.


“You don’t have to tell me. What are the chances of Glyndon actually leaving the bastard?”

“Zero. She said she’s in love with him and that he makes her a better, more courageous person.”

The little fucking shit.

“As if that isn’t enough, Aurora already likes him and says I’m being too overprotective.”

“Nonsense. There’s no such thing when it comes to Glyndon.”

“That’s what I said.”

“If it’s of any consolation, Astrid has been running a campaign in his favor for weeks now. She even warned me not to be difficult or talk to him as if he’s a criminal. Doesn’t she know that I won’t hand my daughter over without some hard shaking?”

“We are not handing her over. We’re observing his actions for now.”

“Maybe they’ll break up in a few months and we’ll be done with this whole charade.”

Uncle releases a sigh. “I wouldn’t be so hopeful if I were you. They’re both in too deep. Just because you refuse to see it doesn’t mean it’s not there.”

I curse beneath my breath as we reach the dining room. Aurora, who was overlooking the staff in setting the table, smiles upon seeing us and leaves them to it.

“So?” She watches us. “Have you tortured the poor boy enough?”

“The bad news is that it’s impossible to torture him,” Uncle says. “The good news is that we know his weakness is Glyndon.”

“Oh, Jonathan.” She links her arm with his. “Let them be. Young love is so beautiful.”

Uncle and I share a look because, holy fuck, that’s almost the same thing Astrid said earlier.

Speaking of my wife, I leave Uncle and Aurora and head to her favorite place, after our bed.

Sure enough, when I open the door to her art studio, I find her standing in the middle of it with Glyndon.