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



I love my brother, I truly do, but I don’t recognize him sometimes. Or more like, I don’t recognize the darkness that flows inside him, barely tucked beneath the surface.

“Do you have an objection, Anoushka?”

“Of course I do. You can’t just lock me up every time you decide to, Jer.” My voice softens. “I’m not a dog.”

“I wouldn’t have had to do this if you weren’t roaming around the Elites bastards.”

“Creighton is not a member of the club.”

“His cousin is.”

“That doesn’t mean anything. You’re rivals with the Elites, not with everyone at REU. Creighton has never taken part in their activities.”

“Are you sure about that? Because no matter how much I go over it in my head, his sudden appearance during the fire is suspicious.”

“I told you. It wasn’t sudden—”

“Spare me the bullshit. You think I haven’t figured out you were covering up for him?”

My spine jerks upright. “You knew?”

“Sure did.”

“Then… Why did you let it slide?”

“Because he saved you and me. Not to mention that Gareth found evidence that the Serpents were behind that fire.” He steps closer. “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t aware of it. Perhaps he plotted it with that deranged cousin of his, then appeared at the right moment to be seen as a savior.”

“That’s not true.”

Jeremy grabs me by the shoulder and shakes me. “Wake the fuck up, Annika. Do you really think it was a coincidence that he happened to be there at the right moment? Do you honestly believe there were no underhanded methods beneath it all?”

My throat dries and I stare into his dead eyes with my stinging ones. “I’m sure there’s an explanation—”

“This is why Dad never wanted you away from home. You’re so naive, it’s fucking embarrassing.” He releases me and I sway backward as if someone slapped me across the face.

No.

It wouldn’t hurt this much if someone physically struck me.

“You won’t be going out, and you’ll be escorted in and out of REU.” He heads to the stairs. “That’s final.”

Usually, I’d hide in my room, call Mom for emotional support, and maybe cry where no one can see me.

Usually, I wouldn’t even attempt to go against my brother.

This time, however, I barge in front of him, shoulders pushed back, and I lift my chin as I speak in a calm though slightly trembling voice. “You call it naivety, but I call it giving people the chances they deserve. I refuse to see the world in black and white like you do, Jeremy. I want the gray, I want the purple, I want all the colors. And I won’t allow you or anyone else to forbid me from seeing them. It’s how I chose to love you despite your dark side. My affection for you isn’t due to your rare warmth or, God forbid, your suffocating behavior, it’s my choice. It is also my choice to trust Creighton. He’s not the type to orchestrate such a fire just to play a savior, and he is not, under any circumstances, associated with the Elites. I know it as well as I know you. Don’t insult me by insinuating that I would choose someone who’s bent on hurting you. If you trusted me enough, you’d figure out that I would never do that.”

My chest deflates from the overwhelming emotions I just unpacked in one go. It’s been a long time coming, considering his asphyxiating overprotectiveness. Slandering Creighton is the straw that broke the camel’s back.

At least Creigh trusted me to take this situation into my own hands. The same can’t be said about Jeremy. I doubt he would trust me to even breathe on my own.

His brows dip in blatant confusion, but his voice softens. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s that I don’t trust your trusting nature, Anoushka. That trait attracts all sorts of predators and invites them to hurt you. The entire King family is cutthroat and brutal. If they were to use you as a pawn, you wouldn’t be able to survive.”

“I’ve been surviving just fine with them, Jer. Hell, I like them better than your own unhinged friends.”

“Will you still like them if they hurt you?”

“You see, that’s your problem. You believe that either everyone is out to hurt me or I’m too fickle to handle myself. I’m eighteen years old, you know, and yes, I might have been a bit immature before, but I’m not anymore. I realize there’s a whole world out there beyond the pretty little cage you and Papa built for me and I want that world, Jer. I want to live, make mistakes, and correct them on my own. I want to be alive.”

Jeremy’s hand clenches at his side, but he slowly relaxes it. “And all of that has to happen with Creighton?”

“Yeah.” I bite the corner of my lower lip. “I love him.”

“You can’t be sure about that this early in the relationship.”

“If I’m not with him, I think about him. Hell, I even think about him when he’s there. He makes me feel happy and appreciated. When I’m with him, I’m just Annika and not Miss Volkov who’s shackled by my family name and background. He’s the place I go to when I want to feel safe, so yes, I love him, and I’m damn sure about it.”

Jeremy tenses and I think he’ll go down his dictatorial road with this, but then he sighs. “Why did it have to be Creighton?”