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

“Have I ever lied to you?”

“Countless times.”

“That wasn’t lying. I was giving you choices. Not my fault you go for the hard ones.” He nudges my shoulder with his, and I swear I nearly catch fire where he touches me. “I’m serious about the referral.”

“You would willingly go to a shrink?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Because he’s too assertive in his sick ways, that’s why. People who go to shrinks hope to become better, but I’m pretty sure Killian thinks this is the best version of himself.

“You realize you’re sick and need therapy?” I try to take a jab at him.

“No, I just want to see the face of the person you tell your deepest, darkest secrets to.”

Of course the bastard just wants to get on my nerves.

“Why are those weirdos watching you like creeps?” Anni interrupts our intense eye contact, and I break it to focus on where she’s tilting her head.

I groan. “Never mind them. I’m not really liked in my class because they think I get preferential treatment for who my mum is. Even my professor likes to criticize me more than he does them. So I’ve just gotten used to it.”

Killian hums for a beat, then stares at me. “What’s the name of the professor?”

“Skies. Why are you asking?”

“Just curious.” He smiles and if I were to see him on TV for the first time, I’d find him charming, crushworthy even, but unfortunately, I know what hides beneath that smile too well. “By the way, you should go to sleep early tonight. No roaming in weird places.”

“What are you now, my father?”

“Shouldn’t that be frowned upon in your moral code, considering I plan to fuck you?”

I choke on my own spit and Annika grins like an idiot. “Never mind me, guys. Think of me as a wallflower.”

Killian doesn’t seem to notice she exists in the first place.

“I mean it. No going out.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Be good.”

A shudder goes through me. I can’t help it. I really, really can’t help it and I hate how vulnerable this makes me feel.

Even as I pull away from him. As I stare at the distance and try to ignore him.

But he uses Annika to make me talk, and he asks all sorts of questions about uni and art and my professors. Whenever I refuse to answer, he starts being a wanker.

It’s scary how fast he can flip from the amicable version of himself to the insufferable one.

When Jeremy calls him, he finally takes Annika and stands.

“Behave,” he whispers against my forehead before planting a chaste kiss there that makes my toes curl.

My phone vibrates and I try to gather my bearings as Annika gives me a sad hug and says she’ll miss us tonight.

Then she turns and leaves with Killian.

I release the breath I’ve been holding since he showed up and fish out my phone to find a text.

Heathens: Congratulations! You are invited to the Heathens’ initiation ceremony. Please show the attached QR code upon arrival to the club’s compound at four p.m. sharp.





14





GLYNDON





“How’s my favorite grandchild?”

I grin widely while lifting my tablet higher so I can get a better view of Grandpa’s face.

He’s actually Dad’s uncle, but he raised him after his parents’ death, and, therefore, became my grandpa.

As in, my favorite person on earth.

I love my parents, but nothing compares to the complete adoration and connection I share with Grandpa. I spent my whole childhood basically living with him and Grandma Aurora. Whenever Mum and Dad took me home, he’d come to ‘steal’ me again.

It’s a known fact that I’m his favorite grandchild. He likes Creigh and Bran and has big expectations for Eli and Lan, but I’m the only one he spoils like a princess.

After all, I’m the only female offspring in the Kings’ line for a few generations.

I might feel like I’m worthless in front of Mum’s and my brothers’ talent. I might consider myself unfit to be in the same picture frame as them, but those feelings never exist when I’m with Grandpa.

And honestly, it should be the other way around. Jonathan King is a ruthless businessman with an empire that reaches all parts of the world. He has a reputation that leaves people trembling in his presence.

Me, however? I get all giddy. I don’t see him as the cold, merciless man people describe him to be. I see him as the man who taught me how to take my first steps, ride a bike, and bought Grandma a whole new set of special edition makeup when I decided to go rogue and painted the door with all of hers.

He still looks to be in his mid-fifties, although he’s way older. Two streaks of white decorate the sides of his hair, adding a wise edge to his hard features—features that are softening as he talks to me while sitting in his home office with bookshelves behind him.

“I’m doing great, Grandpa. Studying and trying to convince my professor that not all my paintings are that horrible.” I laugh in an attempt to mask the awkwardness.

He’s the only one I’m willing to share my insecurities with.

“Or I can send him to the next planet where he’d wish he’d never bothered my princess.”