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

I was wrong.

It’s not only power; it’s intimidation in its purest form.

An ocean that’s groaning and roaring to release its wildness.

I don’t even notice I’ve stepped back until he advances again. This time, I stand my ground and stare up at him. “As I was saying, you should probably go—”

His chest nearly collides with mine as he swiftly kills the distance between us. Warmth mixes with something spicy and the smell of soot. Was he near a fire or something?

He steps forward again and I automatically step back. Either that or I let him crash into me and sweep me over like a tornado.

“Seriously, do you know whose house this is?” My voice is no longer cheerful and has long since matched the shaking of my limbs. “Do you have a death wish—”

I’m not ready for what happens next.

In a flash of movement, he slams his gloved hand against my mouth and shoves me back.

My spine hits the wall with a jerk and I yelp, but it’s muffled. The sound echoes in the air with the spookiness of a haunted lullaby.

The mask rests a few inches from my face like an episode from my deepest, darkest nightmares.

It’s accentuated by the proximity of his body against mine and the strong leather smell.

It’s all I can breathe.

And he’s all I can see. His eyes are indeed blue, but they’re black-rimmed.

Like a mythical creature.

I’ve seen these eyes somewhere. But where?

Is it wrong that I want to see what’s beneath the mask? To just pluck it off and find out if he’s the crying or the smiling half? Maybe both?

The longer I watch him, the more my breath hitches and his warmth seeps into my bones.

No. It can’t be.

It’s simply not who I’m thinking about.

Just to make sure, I lift a hand to his mask, fully expecting him to swat it away.

To my surprise, he doesn’t make a move. My fingers slide over the edge of the frozen smile. But I don’t see it as petrifying anymore—it’s just a cover for someone.

A monstrous edge.

A conundrum of feelings.

Is it you? I ask with my eyes, and his slightly narrow in return.

So I try to peel off the mask, but before I can do so, he shoves my hand away. It falls limp by my side, but I’m almost sure my hunch is correct.

I don’t know about anything else, but I would recognize these eyes anywhere, including in an alternative universe.

A bang comes from outside.

We both go still.

It comes again, and I realize it’s on the door of my room.

“Miss, are you awake?”

A guard.

The Russian-accented voice comes again, coupled with another bang. “There has been a breach in security. Are you okay?”

I meet the masked stranger’s eyes.

No, not a stranger.

He’s way more than a stranger.

I’m still shaking, but it’s for a completely different reason.

“Mmm,” I let out a small, muffled sound.

He tightens his hold on my mouth, sweeping into my space with the sureness of a hurricane. My breasts brush against the hardness of his chest with every inhale.

“Miss? I’m coming in.”

I grab hold of the intruder’s arm and implore him with my eyes. He narrows his to slits but slowly slides his hand from my mouth. He keeps it hovering, ghosting close, probably to shut me up again if I scream for help.

But that’s the thing, I don’t need help, because he’s not a threat.

Or at least, he wasn’t in the past. I’m not quite sure in this situation.

“I’m okay!” I say loud enough for the guard to hear. I’m surprised I don’t stammer or sound nervous, considering the situation.

The door opens a bit, but it remains in that position as the guard’s voice drifts in. “I’m coming in to make sure, miss.”

“Don’t! I’m… I’m naked.”

The clearing of a throat comes from the guard and I can almost imagine his flustered face. He knows his head would be on a stick if he saw me nude.

Unless my life was in jeopardy.

Which isn’t the case.

I don’t think.

“I’m really cool. I’m going back to sleep now. Don’t wake me up.”

Silence for one, two, three seconds—

“Very well, miss. If there’s anything, the boss will come to see you.”

The door closes and I release a long breath.

My next inhale causes my chest to brush against the not-stranger, and I pause, staring up at him.

“The boss he just mentioned is my brother, and I can’t keep him out with the ‘I’m naked’ excuse. He’ll just come in, eyes closed, pick up a sheet or something, and throw it on me, then do his search. He’s brutal like that, so you really want to go before he comes if you don’t want to have ‘Beaten to death’ written on your tombstone. Oh, also, are you going to stay glued to me for a long time? I might seem cool, but it’s actually hard to breathe when you’re around.”

He stares at me blankly, absolutely not impressed nor derailed by my word vomit. It’s a habit I’m trying to get rid of, but it’s actually harder than it sounds.

“What are you waiting for?” I whisper. “Seriously, go before Jeremy shows up. If you came through the balcony door unnoticed, then return the same way. And uh, maybe give me my space back sometime soon?”