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



“Papa!” I slide my attention from my book to the phone and I’m greeted by the face of my custom-made role model.

He grins, showing deep dimples in his cheeks.

Xander Knight is my father, my first best friend—Ava came later—and the greatest dad on earth.

He has a classically handsome face with his golden blond hair, sky blue eyes, and a sharp jawline.

Mum said he used to be the most popular boy at school and attracted everyone’s attention like a magnet not only due to his looks but also thanks to his charm.

It’s safe to say, I didn’t inherit any of those easygoing traits, and it’s not due to a lack of trying on his part.

“I just miss my only daughter too much, so either you come back to London and study at a local uni—which would make everyone happy, by the way—or I find a house near you so your mother and I can see you all the time.”

“No to both.” I suppress a smile because I’m well aware he’s capable of doing that and this is the third time he’s suggested that option.

When we went on a school trip at thirteen, Papa kind of convinced all the other fathers to rent out a holiday house near our camp.

Papa and Ava’s father, Uncle Cole, ended up buying the thing because they’re extra like that, and then they pretended to stumble upon the place we were staying at by chance.

It was the worst lie in centuries. Ava and I kind of came to the realization that we have overprotective dads and we’d have to live with that fact instead of fighting it.

No matter how old we get, we’ll always be their little girls who they wish would remain young forever.

“I mean it,” Papa says from the other end of the phone, a line appearing between his brows. “I can’t sleep at night thinking something has happened to you.”

“You’re just being paranoid. I’m healthy and well.” I flash him my best smile and hope to hell he doesn’t see the doubt and concern hiding behind it.

I am healthy, but only physically, and I certainly haven’t been well. Not since that night a month ago.

Something inside me has shriveled and vanished since then, and I couldn’t find it again, even if I tried.

It was wrong.

Everything was.

From my twisted tendencies to allowing myself to be in that position, even if it was for Lan.

I’ve never felt as ashamed or completely disappointed in myself as I did at that moment when I realized the one who’d chased me in the dark and brought me the most powerful release I’ve ever experienced was none other than Jeremy Volkov.

The resident devil of Brighton Island and the reigning Lucifer of TKU.

I couldn’t look in the mirror for days after the incident, went into my head more times than I could count so that even my friends started to individually ask me if something was wrong.

For a moment, I truly considered going home and finding comfort with my parents, Uncle Kirian, and my grandfathers, but how is that any different from running?

Besides, if I’d done that, I would’ve appeared under the weather and worried them needlessly.

I’m glad I didn’t give in to that impulse and stayed put. If Papa had sensed any hint of distress, he would’ve locked me up in the house and demanded to slay my demons for me.

But I’m past that age where I let him do that on my behalf. The real world without him is much scarier and full of people who wouldn’t hesitate to snuff me out, but I have to do this on my own.

Like I survived that black day on my own.

Papa shifts, allowing a hint of his home office to appear behind him. “I’m still worried. I wish you were still my little Cecy who hugged my thigh and rode my shoulders.”

Me, too, Papa.

“Unfortunately, growing up is mandatory.”

“Don’t I know it?” He shakes his head as if expelling an unpleasant thought. “Tell me all about school. Is everything okay? Is anyone bothering you? Do you have a boyfriend, and does he know that if he touches you, his parents will lose a son? Or maybe it’s a girlfriend, who still shouldn’t touch you unless her parents are ready to lose a daughter?”

“Papa!”

“What? I need to cover all the bases. You haven’t dated any guys since secondary school, so I thought maybe you’d realized you play for a different team. But you would’ve told me, right? You know I would support you no matter what, right?”

I raise a brow. “Does that mean you’ll be more lenient if I introduce you to a girl?”

“No, but I wouldn’t, say, hit her or anything.”

“You shouldn’t hit a guy either.”

“Of course I would. Boys are little wankers.”

I shake my head. “I’m straight, Papa. Annoyingly so.”

“Ah, fuck. So you really have a boyfriend? Name? Family name? Age? Address? IQ?”

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

He narrows his eyes. “Oh, he’s good. He’s really good if he’s already making my honeybee lie to me.”

“Papa, stop calling me that. That was for when I was five.”

“Not hearing that. I will, however, hear about this boyfriend that you’re hiding from me.”

“Who has a boyfriend?” Mum’s soft voice comes from the other end.

I pause, rub the side of my nose once, and grip my pen tighter.