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

“Last I checked, you’re not the only one who can.”

“You’re a lightweight, remember?”

“Leave me alone.” I swat her away as if she’s a fly.

“Yeah, leave her alone. Drunk Ces is much less uptight than sober Ces, and we love that beautiful bitch.” Remi clinks his bottle against mine. “Cheers to a truce!”

I drink the other half the bottle in one go and wince at the burn. They’re right. I don’t usually do this, but I’m safe here with them. If I somehow pass out, Ava will tuck me in.

While I avoid drink as to not repeat that black night, I don’t mind if it’s with people I trust.

It takes exactly three beers for my muscles to loosen, and I start grinning like an idiot.

Truth is, Remi is actually a clown and he’s funny. I’m just much harder on him when I’m sober, because he keeps calling me names.

We start singing karaoke, and I stand up to jump along to the music while hugging Ava and Anni, but immediately, the room starts swaying. Or I do.

Ava grabs me by the arm and snatches the beer from my hand. “No more drinks for you, lady.”

“Nooo, let me be.”

“Yeah, let her be.” Remi appears like a devil on my left. “Drunk Cecy is fun Cecy!”

I narrow my eyes on him. “I’m not a prude.”

He grins. “Wanna be in my next orgy?”

“Hmph. I’m into something way better than that.” I pull on his ear. “Wanna know what?”

“Fuck yeah. I’m all for kinks.”

“Forget it.” My shoulders slump. “I’m too cowardly to try it again.”

“You can just un-coward yourself.” He waggles his brows. “I can help.”

I grab him by the face, watching him intently before I tut. “Not the right one.”

“Hey, what the actual fuck? I’m always the right one. It’s on my birth certificate right next to the aristocratic title.”

I wave him off and stumble, then hit a fallen pillow. Creighton catches me with a slight frown. “You good?”

I pat his arm, nodding, and pull his ear to whisper, “Perrrfect.”

He merely raises a brow, seeming to call my bullshit, but he doesn’t push it.

“I love you, Creigh.”

“Thanks?”

“Want me to help with Anni?”

“If you mean help to keep her away, sure.”

“Oh, please.” I snort and push him away. “Liar. Liar. Hey, Ava! Is there any vodka around here?”

“None of us drink that. What the fuck?” Ava snatches me from Creigh’s hold, drags me to my room, and dumps me on the bed like I’m a sack of potatoes. “Mind telling me what’s going on?”

I stand up, sway, and fall back down with a grunt. “I’m gonna go to the store and get some vodka.”

“Like fuck you are. You can’t even walk.” She sits beside me and checks my temperature. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you don’t willingly drink or entertain Remi, and you’ve certainly never even tried vodka before.”

“I did.” I grin, my voice lowering. “It was sexy.”

“Huh?”

“Shh,” I murmur. “He could be watching. He’s everywhere and nowhere all at once.”

“Why are we whispering?” She matches my tone. “And who is he?”

“The devil,” I say in a hoarse voice, then gasp. “He disappeared and I hate it.”

“Is this about Lan?” She frowns. “He’s seriously bad news, Cecy. I thought you were over him by now.”

“Are you over Eli?”

She purses her lips. “In this house, we don’t speak of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named.”

I release a long breath and lie down. “I wish it was about Lan. The devil you know is better, right?”

“What the fuck type of drug did you inhale today?”

“Devilish?”

“I swear, you’ll be the death of me.” She makes me drink water, then tucks me in bed and even kisses my forehead like I do to her when she’s drunk out of her mind.

Ava and I only allow ourselves to be vulnerable in each other’s company.

Because that’s what best friends are for.

She remains by my side until she thinks I’ve fallen asleep.

As soon as she leaves, I open my eyes and stare at the mangas covering the ceiling.

After a few minutes, I pull out my phone.

I’m so going to regret this in the morning, but if I wait until I’m sober, I’ll never stop being a coward and will never do what I want.

To take risks.

To step out of my comfort zone.

I want that feeling of freedom again. I need to overflow with being both wrong and right at the same time.

After clicking on Lan’s profile, I pause, then type a DM.

I want to be chased and ambushed. In the dark. Where you can use me and no one knows.

He reads it. But no dots appear.

I stare at my screen for what seems like hours, but no reply comes.

So I flip my phone and groan when it falls on my face.

That’s why tears come out—because the hit hurts.

It’s not because of anything else.

I hide my eyes with my arms and this time force myself to fall asleep.