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

“Oh, hi—” Whatever I had to say dies in my throat when he grabs me by the waist and slams me to his side.

Creighton’s voice is clipped at best as he glares at his brother. “Stay the fuck away from what’s mine.”

And then he drags me out of the club.





16





ANNIKA





“Hey, slow down…”

I practically jog to keep up with Creighton’s wide strides. We fly past the gaping students who are probably as shocked as I am by his actions.

Or maybe it’s because he’s half naked, his honed muscles on display and only shorts hang low on his hips.

Even though I’ve never come to watch any of his fights before, it’s a known fact that Creighton King is a reigning champion. His detachment is his power and the reason he won last year’s championship and has won every match since.

So to have him lose his cool at the end of the fight must have looked like some sort of blasphemy.

His grip on my wrist forbids me from entertaining the thought of fighting. All I can do is keep up—or try to. When I remove my sunglasses to see better, they fall to the ground, but he doesn’t let me pick them up.

We walk on and on, flashing past students and locals, and then we’re going down the empty streets and past closed shops. I attempt to talk in a soothing tone, to tell him to slow down, but he’s not hearing me.

He’s a beast with the sole purpose of sweeping me off my feet.

The night air seeps into my bones and I’m thankful I wore a hoodie, not only does it keep me warm, but it also allows me much-needed anonymity.

“I’m fine with being kidnapped and all, but can you please walk slower?” I try to joke. “It’s impossible to keep going at this pace.”

He glances at me over his shoulder, eyes dark and tension rippling through his frame. “Shut up.”

My words die in my throat. I guess that means he’s angry. No, maybe it’s a step beyond that.

But why are these destructive emotions directed at me? It’s not like I did anything wrong.

To prevent unknowingly worsening my case, I bite my tongue and let him drag me to God knows where.

After what seems like forever, we arrive at the beach. People usually go to where there’s sand so they can enjoy the water and the view.

Definitely not Creighton.

He leads me to a rocky area where the pointy parts look like savage animal fangs.

I struggle to get free. “No, nope. I’m not going there.”

He pulls on my hand and I plant my feet on the ground. “I said I’m not going there. Weird things live on those rocks, waiting for their next victim. Who knows what type of animal would jump at me in the dark?”

“The only animal you need to worry about is me.”

My lips part and he uses my moment of bewilderment to tug on my wrist, bringing me along with him to the top of a huge rock.

I carefully watch my surroundings. It’s dark around here, the sky is cloudy, and only a distant streetlight offers a break in the night.

The waves crash against the shore with a ferociousness that causes a shudder to trickle down my spine.

Creighton flings me forward so that I’m standing with my back to the water and he’s towering over me.

He appears monstrous in the dark, a piece cut from the night and custom-made to inflict punishment.

He’s dangerous violence wrapped in beautiful skin. Dry blood sticks to his hairline, the corner of his lip is cut, and a bruise decorates his cheekbone.

I’m still studying him when he presses against me in a single motion, his hungry gaze stripping me bare and his intensity rippling with every intake of oxygen.

My foot slips and I yelp as I grab onto his taut arm. “What the hell are you thinking?”

“I should be the one to ask you that.”

“Me?”

He says nothing, continuing to glare at me, probably figuring out how he’ll lay me on his lap and spank me.

I shiver at the image but ignore the throb between my legs. “If you don’t tell me what you think I did wrong, I won’t be able to figure it out. As much as I would love to mind read, I, unfortunately, don’t have that superpower.”

“One.”

“Oh, come on. You’re just being spiteful and unfair right now.”

“Two.”

“Creighton!” Anger bubbles in my veins, but I know that if I continue to be guided by that emotion, I’ll only be digging myself into a hole.

Especially with the way he’s watching me as if he’s at the point of explosion.

So I smooth my tone, stepping closer to him, my voice softening. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Stay away from Eli.”

My brows crease. “Isn’t he your brother?”

“Doesn’t mean you get to be close with him.”

“Why not?”

“Stop asking questions and do as you’re told.”

This is one of the times when I’d usually shoot out a barely thought-out reply and get myself in trouble. But I force myself to remain calm. In the few weeks I’ve spent in Creighton’s company, I’ve come to the realization that he doesn’t deal with human emotions like the rest of us do.

He’s not soulless like, say, Killian, Nikolai, or even Jeremy. It’s not that he doesn’t care. He just chooses not to. It’s a conscious decision he must’ve made a long time ago.