God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3) by Rina Kent

“So you are aware.”

“More or less.”

“Are they true?”

“If you’re asking whether I’ve killed, tortured and driven people to the brink of death, then the answer is yes to all. I don’t do it for fun or to satisfy any sort of bloodlust, and usually I have people who do the job for me, but I won’t shy away from getting my hands dirty if need be.”

I go still as the dooming reality of his nature slams into me. Suspecting it is one thing but having the proof right here is entirely different.

“Are you scared of me?” His question stabs the careful silence.

“Not you. Your world,” I say after a while. “But I’ll try to understand, even though it will likely take me a long time.”

“Why would you do that?”

Because I care about you and I’d rather understand than let you go.

Instead of saying that, I smile. “I like being open-minded. Also, Jeremy?”

“Hmm?”

“Why aren’t you torturing me to reveal where Creighton has taken Annika? Isn’t that why you came to the shelter in the first place?”

“You said he wouldn’t hurt her, and while I’m skeptical, I choose to believe you. I don’t want to put you in a position where you must betray your friend’s trust, even if he’s a motherfucker. Besides, my father is working on it. If I don’t have to involve you, I won’t.”

A shiver snakes down my spine and leaves me trembling. How can he say things like that without any consideration to my slowly melting heart?

“Is…your mum okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head once. “The whole thing with Annika hit her hard. She’s always shared a deep connection with her, and now, she thinks she’s losing her for good… Hey, what’s wrong?”

It’s then I realize I’m shaking. I can’t do this. I can’t just keep shielding Creigh while knowing many people are suffering, including Annika, who I’m sure wouldn’t like being locked away from the outside world.

But I can’t have Jeremy hurt him either.

“If…” I trail off and clear the ball clogging my throat. “If I tell you where they are, will you promise not to hurt Creigh?”

A muscle works in his strong jaw. “He kidnapped my sister.”

“He loves her, Jeremy. I know you don’t want to believe it, but I’ve never seen Creighton attached to anyone the way he is to Anni. And no matter how much you deny it, you’re well aware that she loves him, too.”

His jaw clenches.

I get up and carefully wrap my arms around his neck, expecting him to push me away. Jeremy might let me hold on to him during sex, but he goes rigid whenever I touch him intimately outside of it.

It’s like he can’t get used to the emotions pouring out of him.

However, this time, not only does he let me, but he also doesn’t show any signs of discomfort. Maybe he’s getting used to me as much I’m getting used to him.

“Please, Jeremy.” I stroke the hairs at his nape, knowing how much he likes that. “Do this for your parents and yourself. I’m sure you miss Anni, right?”

A grunt is all he offers.

“Do you promise you won’t hurt him?”

One second.

Two.

Three…

“Fine. I promise.”

I squeal and kiss him on the cheek. It’s so natural that both of us pause afterward.

“Thank you,” I whisper awkwardly.

“Don’t thank me yet. If he hurt my sister, I’ll chop his head off.”

I’m sure Creigh wouldn’t.

The fact remains, Jeremy’s inclination for violence is something I’ll need to eventually get used to.

He’s a beast, but he’s the beast who breathes life into me.

He’s the beast who’d slaughter the world to pieces just to protect me from it.

He’s my beast.

I just have no idea what I am to him.





34





JEREMY





“What are we doing here?”

The sound of Cecily's spooked voice makes me smile. I don’t mean to. It just happens.

A lot of things about her make me smile. Whether it’s her silly psychoanalyzing of fictional characters, her attachment to said characters, or the expression she makes when she’s caught off guard.

Like right now.

I hop off my bike and throw the helmet into the hands of an awaiting Ilya. He nods at me, then at Cecily, whose brows have lifted to nearly touch her hairline.

She doesn’t blink or react as I grab her hand and start to guide her into the mansion. It isn’t until we’re at the threshold that she physically shakes her head and draws us to a stop.

“Seriously. What are we doing here?”

“Didn’t you ask the other day why I never bring you here?”

Her throat works with a swallow and her hand grows slack in mine. She’s so close that I can see the tiny freckles dusting her cheeks, the smudge of darker roots in her silver hair, and breathe in her scent.

Fucking water lilies. I never thought I’d be as entranced by a scent as I am with Cecily’s.

I’ve never liked anyone enough to focus on them, to want to learn more about them, to engrave myself so deep beneath their skin that they can’t remove me unless they cut themselves open and bleed.