God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2) by Rina Kent

That incident happened a week ago.

She’s kept her distance since—even during lunch. Before, she glued herself to my side and chattered happily until I got up and left.

Now, her chosen victims are either Remi or Bran. On and on, she talks to them about the last book she read or film she watched.

They listen to her, engage, and even reply.

Unlike me.

Ava even asked her if she’s finally given up on me. She laughed and subtly changed the subject.

She did give up.

Finally.

If I’d known it would be that easy, I would’ve shown her a hint of who I truly am a long time ago. That way, I wouldn’t have had to put up with her disturbing cheerfulness.

I click on the last selfie she sent two weeks ago. Her hair falls on either side of her face and she has both hands under her chin. She’s too young, oozing with an irritating type of happiness that grates on my nerves.

Yes, I’m young, too, but only in age. I’ve never felt young since the massacre.

A notification of a text shows up at the top of my phone. Did I somehow send a reaction or something?

That’s when I realize I’ve been staring at her selfie for about five minutes.

A long fucking time.

I scroll to the text she sent just now.

Annika: So I’ve been thinking.

Creighton: I’m surprised you do that before talking.

The dots indicating she’s typing appear and disappear.

*Screaming emoji*

*Dead sticker*

*It’s happening GIF*

Annika: OMT! Did you actually reply? Say the secret words or I’m reporting you for kidnapping Creighton.

What the fuck is she on about now?

Annika: I’m serious. I’ll report you right now. I swear to Tchaikovsky. That’s what OMT means if you were wondering. Oh my Tchaikovsky.

Creighton: You talk too much.

Annika: It’s really you. Hi! Also, thanks for replying after a thousand years. Really appreciated.

Creighton: If I’d known this was what I was in for, I wouldn’t have.

Annika: Wait, don’t ghost me yet. You’re seriously cold, did you know that? I wonder if you even have a heart beneath all that ice.

I don’t reply.

Annika: Here we go again. You’re leaving me on Read. But anyway, I’ve been thinking about what you said the other day and I’m curious about the ‘deviant tastes’ part. I tried searching and asking around your childhood friends, but I think either you keep that part of yourself under wraps or it’s not true? At any rate, I want to know more. Can you tell me?

My hand flexes on the phone and I type with stiff fingers.

Creighton: This is my one and only warning, Annika. You have no clue what you’re asking for. Be grateful that I have no interest in you and run the fuck away. If you let me catch you, I’ll swallow you alive.

She reads my text immediately, but no dots appear.

Good.

“There you are.”

I turn off my screen and slide my phone into my pocket as Landon sits beside me.

“Why did you disappear before the fun started?”

“Not in the mood.” Which is putting it mildly. I was disgusted to the core.

Not by that girl.

By myself.

The fact that my thoughts veered in that direction made my skin crawl and softened any erection I could’ve gotten.

“I had my fun with both of them. Thanks for that.” Landon leans back against his palms, not looking satiated in the least.

It’s almost a routine for him now. It’s probably starting to become the same way for me, too.

The satisfaction of flesh against flesh, of welts and canes, chains, and gags can only last for so long before it fades away.

Soon enough, it becomes an afterthought, a mere instinct to satisfy.

“Ready for what comes next?” Landon tilts his head. “Spoiler alert, it’ll be brutal.”

I give a sharp nod.

“Always a good fucking sport, Creigh. Listen up, in exchange for telling you who destroyed your biological family, here’s what I want you to do…”

My muscles tighten at the prospect of finally having a name.

I never questioned what Landon's scheme behind all these little anarchies is. He’s always plotting for chaos anyway, and I don’t mind playing a part in it as long as I get what I want.

And to do that, I’ll tune out any and all distractions.

Namely, Annika fucking Volkov.





5





ANNIKA





“Are you sure we can do this?”

I stare back at Cecily and grin. “Nope, but we can definitely try.”

“You’re going to get us killed, aren’t you?” she whispers as we sneak along the mansion’s garden.

“Don’t be a bore, Ces. This is, like, our only chance to see inside the Heathens’ place.” Ava bumps her shoulder against mine and I nod, agreeing with her.

“I thought this was supposed to just be a party,” Cecily whisper-yells even as she keeps her head down. Her steps are a lot more silent than ours. Like a ninja.

I peek around the corner of the mansion and then quicken my steps to the annexed house. “I know this will sound like blasphemy, but parties can get boring sometimes.”

“Unless you’re getting dicked down by a hot prick like Glyndon is.” Ava waggles her brows.