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

“Dad.” Glyn sulks. “Why would you say that?”

“Because he’s a little psycho, that’s why. Imagine what he’ll become when he grows up.”

“Aiden?” Astrid asks with a mischievous smile. “You still love him.”

“Tolerate him, not love him, princess.”

“Oh, please. You’ve been overprotective of Aiden since you were kids. Either way, Aiden is the type of man who puts his family above the world, so don’t be judgmental.”

“Yeah, Dad, don’t be judgmental.”

“We’re playing two on one now, are we?”

“Well, you put yourself in this position,” Astrid tells me, shamelessly taking our daughter’s side.

“Still love you, Dad.” Glyn pecks my cheek, then grins. “I’ll get going before you start kissing.”

Her laugh echoes in the air as she leaves the studio.

My wife slides her hand up my ribs and to my chest, a glimmering light shining in her eyes. “Are we going to start kissing, my king?”

It only takes a few strokes from her to transform me into a raging volcano. “Not sure. You just took that fucker Killian’s side over mine.”

“Because you’re being unreasonable and you know it. He brought our daughter back from the edge and that alone makes me forever thankful.” Her hand travels to my cheek, her voice softening when she says, “Are you really not going to kiss me?”

“I’d never say no to you, princess.” I’d lose to her over and over if I have to.

My fingers lift her chin and my mouth meets hers. I kiss her with gratefulness, love, and the absolute need to have her in my life.

She is my life.

My wife.

The mother of my children.

Mine.





Levi: I just lost my daughter.

Xander: Please tell me that’s figurative and Glyn is actually okay?

Levi: If by okay, you mean breathing, then sure, she’s okay. But she brought home a boy and said the dreaded words of “I love him.”

Aiden: Surely you knew she’d do this eventually? She’s fucking nineteen, Lev, not nine.

Levi: Says the one who only has sons. You don’t understand, so how about you kindly fuck off?

Aiden: What’s so wrong with having sons? Don’t be jealous.

Ronan: Agreed. Sons are the shit. Also, I’m on pins and needles for when Remi will introduce his special someone to us.

Cole: From what I gather, there will be special someones. I wonder where he got that womanizing tendency from.

Ronan: Fuck you, Nash. My son is living his life as a healthy uni student and I won’t allow anyone to shame him.

Xander: My condolences about Glyn, Captain. It’s my worst nightmare to imagine some fucker taking away my Cecily.

Aiden: Hello? They’re old enough to be independent, so can we normalize letting them live their lives?

Cole: Except for my Ariella. She’s only sixteen. My Ava is off-limits, too. Do you hear that, Aiden? Let Eli know.

Aiden: You’re so delusional to think you can stop Eli from doing anything. Even I can’t dictate his actions anymore.

Cole: We’ll see about that. Don’t blame me for the violence that will happen when he comes near my daughter.

Ronan: Let me bring the popcorn.

Cole: You, too, Ron. Keep your son far away from my Ari.

Ronan: I should be the one to say that, fucker. She’s like a little hellion stalker. Jesus, I’m scared for Remi’s life.

Levi: You can brush me off all you like, but I’ll be the one laughing when you’re the ones who lose your kids.





EPILOGUE - GLYNDON





THREE MONTHS LATER





“Are you drunk?”

I stare up at Killian with a wide grin and squint an eye. “Did you know you sound so hot when you’re angry?”

“Glyndon,” he grinds out.

“You sound hot when you say my name, too.”

He taps a finger against the counter, obviously waiting for a reply.

“What? I only had, like, two drinks. Right, Niko?” I stare at my partner in crime as we sit on the kitchen counter while Gareth mixes us some drinks.

Okay, maybe there was more alcohol than I divulged, but it’s all Killian’s fault. I got bored waiting for him to come home from his shift at the hospital, so when Nikolai started drinking, I joined him.

And I still waited, because it’s, like, eleven p.m. now, and I’m tired and I have an early class tomorrow. But I couldn’t go back to the dorm, because this bastard has totally trained me to only sleep on top of him.

Or that’s what I tell myself.

The sad truth is, I’ve been falling head over heels for this man over the past few months, and I’ve been enjoying every second.

Killian will always be Killian, with his unorthodox methods, brooding personality, and bleak mind, but he smirks when he sees me, he kisses my forehead after he pleases me. He fucks me like he can’t breathe without me.

He shows me parts of himself that the world isn’t privy to, like the photographs he’s been taking over the years. Lately, his red room has been filled with pictures of us, or more specifically, me. In all different positions. During sex. Outside of sex. When I’m looking. When I’m not looking.

He said I’m his masterpiece.