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

“No, Grandpa, don’t do that. I really want to convince him on my own.”

I thought I was coming close today when Professor Skies wanted to speak to me alone, but then he asked me to see if Mum could make it to some gallery opening he’s planning.

Not that it cut me open or anything.

Okay, maybe a little when I heard him tell his assistant teacher, “I can’t believe Glyndon is the Astrid C. King’s daughter and Landon and Brandon King’s sister. Her technique is juvenile at best and so chaotic that it’s embarrassing to compare her to them.”

I learned long ago that being an artist means to open oneself to criticism. Mum and my brothers got their share of it, but I guess I’m not as strong as they are or confident enough to close my ears to that type of roasting.

It’s why I had to talk to Grandpa right after. He makes me feel better. Mum does, too, but I don’t talk to her about any art school things, because I feel as if she just wouldn’t understand.

She’s better.

She doesn’t struggle with low self-esteem or other darker thoughts.

“If he doesn’t, I’ll take care of him. He’s obviously a crook if he doesn’t recognize your worth,” Grandpa says.

“Just because he doesn’t like my work doesn’t mean he’s a crook, Grandpa. He’s world-renowned.”

“He could be applauded by Picasso himself but still be a crook if he doesn’t understand you’re a different person from your mother and brothers.” He pauses. “Is anyone else bothering you?”

“No, I’m all good. The girls and I made a new friend. But enough about me, tell me about you! Have you been taking walks and working less?”

An amused look covers his features. “Yes, Doctor.”

“Well, I wouldn’t have asked if you were following the doctor’s instructions. I want you to live until I’m old and gray.”

“If I put my mind to it, nothing will stop me.” He looks up, face softening further, and soon after, Grandma appears in the frame. She stands beside his chair, wraps her hands around his face, and kisses his lips before pulling away.

Grandma has a calm, evocative beauty with her raven hair, petite features, and slim body. She’s about ten years older than my parents and is a successful business owner. We often get custom-made watches from her luxurious brand and I hold them close to my heart.

Grandpa stares up at her for a beat, his eyes easing at the corners. I’ve always loved the way he looks at her. As if she’s the only one who can melt the ice inside him. The only one who understands him in ways no one else can.

She smiles at him, then wraps an arm around his shoulder. “Glyndon! I miss you, hon. This mansion is empty as hell without you.”

“Miss you, too, Grandma! I’ll spend the upcoming break with you guys.”

“How can it be empty when I’m right here, wild one?” Grandpa asks with a raised brow.

“Don’t be jealous of your own granddaughter, Jonathan.” She chuckles. “Besides, you also said you miss her energy.”

“I do. Come home soon, princess.”

“Will do!”

We continue talking for a bit, then I give him a report about my brothers and cousins, making them look like saints.

Sometimes, I feel like Grandpa’s spy, but oh well, at least I don’t tell him about all the trouble they’re causing. The dangerous clubs they’re in or the underground fights.

By the time I hang up, I’m buzzing with energy. I knew Grandpa would give me the pep talk I need to do this.

I’ve always been the rule-abiding Glyndon. The never-swim-again-after-being-hit-by-a-wave Glyndon. The peacemaker-at-family-dinners Glyndon.

In a way, I’ve been a wallflower and have never dared to take any risks. All I wanted was to improve my art and be recognized for it.

The brutal reality of the world crushed me so hard that I spiraled and hid into myself further. Sometimes, I miss the mischievous younger version of me or how I used Grandma’s makeup as a palette.

It was innocent back then, simpler. I only loved to paint and that’s it. I didn’t know about the world’s expectations or that I’d fail to meet each one of them.

Then I met Devlin in the first semester. We were in similar places in life and we understood each other so well.

Until we didn’t.

Until he was taken away.

And I have to get closure—for him and myself.

So I put on my comfiest shoes and I slip away from the flat, thankful the girls are busy. Cecily is studying at the library and Ava has been practicing her cello. The haunting melody she’s playing echoes behind me, or maybe it’s my nerves that give it that edge.

The cold air covers my skin with goosebumps and I pull my denim jacket tighter around me.

I make it all the way to The King’s U’s campus and security lets me in once I show them the text message. It isn’t until I’m inside the perimeter that I kind of start to get cold feet.

But I keep going, not sure which direction I should take. A few other students are flocking to the eastern tower of the campus, chatting among themselves. I assume they’re heading to the club, considering they’re all wearing eager expressions and I hear the word ‘initiation.’

My steps are light as I follow close behind them.

After some time, they arrive at a black metal gate that’s situated at the far right of campus. The building is separated from the rest of The King’s U by wires that surround the impossibly tall walls of the property. They extend for as far as the eye can see and fog eats up the rest of the distance like an ominous scene from a horror movie.