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

I slap Gareth on the shoulder. “Stay boring, big bro.”

He flips me off and I smile as I slip out of the main party and head downstairs. The basement is soundproofed, so all the music and fuckery eventually disappears as I lock the door behind me.

The red room comes into focus and I stand at the entrance, staring at the attempts at masterpieces I’ve tried over the years.

My first picture of those mice was taken with a Polaroid camera. I had to commemorate the moment of seeing into a living being’s insides.

My second was Gareth when he hit his knee, bled all over the garden, and tried so hard not to cry.

The third was Gareth being attacked by a dog. Ever since then, he’s never really gone near one again. If he rationalized the fact that the dog who bit him was sick and probably rabid, he wouldn’t have to be so wary of them anymore. But I learned early on that other people’s responses to threatening, dangerous situations are vastly different from mine.

Where I stay collected, they panic.

Where I search for a solution, they let fear overwhelm them.

Over the years, I’ve taken a lot of pictures. Some are gory. Others, not so much. But they usually highlight some form of suffering.

Some form of…human weakness.

At first, I took them to understand how their reactions to certain situations differ from mine. Then I enjoyed the knowledge that I hold a part of them no one has access to.

Not even them.

That’s why they’re masterpieces.

I’ve preserved them so well over the years, not allowing anyone to see this part of me.

They don’t even know I’ve chosen medicine just so I can continue my fixation with seeing inside a living being without killing them.

It’s more of a challenge this way, but I get to remain hiding in plain sight and even be called noble for…saving lives.

I walk to the latest addition to my collection and pull it from between all the others.

My fingers run over the contours of her soft features splashed with tears, snot, and cum. I can still feel my fingers between her lips instead of seeing them.

That is the first time I’ve had such a strong release without my permission. I usually go to great lengths and extreme fetishes to release a sliver of what this clueless girl achieved without even trying.

And that pisses me the fuck off.

She’s supposed to be a mere thread whose sole purpose was to provide answers, and had no business shooting for a higher position.

As unfortunate as it might sound, I might have to break her for it.

Because I meant it yesterday. I still haven’t figured out what exactly I’ll do with her.

What’s for sure is that I’m going to recreate this look on her face. Again and again.

And fucking again.

One taste isn’t enough, after all.

It started with an investigation into Devlin’s death, but maybe that’s not as important as I initially thought.





7





GLYNDON





“Tell me why we’re here again?” I wince at the loud sound of rap music, chattering, and people.

So many people.

“Because we stan violence, duh.” Ava cheers while swaying to the music.

“You know, this unorthodox fascination with male violence could be a manifestation of unpleasant tendencies.” Cecily slides her glasses over her nose. “It’s kind of toxic.”

“Call me queen of toxicity then, because I get to stare at this divine beauty.” Ava nudges Annika. “Isn’t that right, Anni?”

She fidgets, watching the crowd surrounding us as if they’re aliens out to kidnap and enslave us. Like Cecily and me, she wasn’t keen on coming to the fighting ring, but democracy doesn’t win with Ava.

Besides, despite Ces’s psychological profiling just now, she wasn’t vehemently against it when the idea first popped up.

It’s good to get some air and change the scenery, is what she told me before the three of them dragged me to this underground fighting ring downtown.

And surprise, most of the fighting happens between our university and The King’s U.

It goes without saying that we’re rivals in every way. Each university encourages its students to take part in clubs, sports, and contests just so they can beat the other university.

Aside from the official sports such as football, basketball, and lacrosse, there’s this ongoing tradition of a neutral ground fight club where a championship is held.

It’s basically a gambling den about who gets to win in fistfights. Rumor has it, the chancellors know it’s going on and not only turn a blind eye, but they even bet on the championship.

The club is packed as hell, despite the fact that tonight is a normal fighting day where people get matched up randomly. On championship nights, both campuses pour into here like ants.

We’re currently waiting for the highlight of the evening—a match between two of the strongest fighters from our unis. The fighter from our side is Creigh, who’s having his shoulders massaged by Remi on the pedestal above.

While Remi is the captain of the basketball team and Bran is the captain of the Lacrosse team, they never fight.

When we asked Remi why he doesn’t, he snorted and laughed and mocked us. “Preposterous! Me? A fight? As in, putting my lordship’s nose in jeopardy? You’re out of your mind, you’re out of your mind, and everyone is out of their fucking mind!”