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

He brought me out of my invisible bubble just to decimate me.

And that hurt.

I didn’t realize how much it hurt until I stared at his soulless eyes a moment ago. Now that I’m looking at him, at his sharp features and unaffected expression, I want to sink my nails into his leather jacket where his heart is and rip it out, maybe see if there is one.

“Over?” He takes a step forward, trapping me against my car as a twitch lifts his lips. “We’re just getting started, Cecily.”





18





JEREMY





I watched Cecily all night long.

I’ve been following close behind since she left the shelter and headed back to the flat, wearing tight jeans and a baggy sweater. Earbuds in her ears. Gaze lost in the horizon.

I remained on my bike behind the bushes and watched her window, waiting for her figure to appear, and it did, once, wrapped in nothing but a towel. Her wet silver hair cascaded to below her shoulders and she stood by the window.

For a moment, I thought she saw me, that no matter how strategically I hide, Cecily will always see me.

But that belief only lasted until I realized she was in fact caught in a trance. She stood there and looked, but no feelings could be detected.

She was there physically, but not mentally.

That state lasted for exactly fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes of remaining as still as a soulless statue.

Fifteen minutes of…nothingness.

My molars grinded together and I nearly crushed my helmet between my fingers from how much I squeezed it. I contemplated jumping through her window and shaking the fuck out of her.

But then Ava came in, her face and movements full of giddy excitement. Cecily snapped out of it soon after, crossed her arms over her chest and listened as her friend chattered on, grabbed her shoulders, and pushed her in the direction of the closet.

Twenty minutes later, they were in a downtown pub. With their guy friends. Namely, that motherfucker Landon.

I was around the corner when they whispered to each other, when he grinned at her and she smiled at him. When he offered her a drink and she took it sheepishly.

When she ignored everyone else and talked to him.

When he kept nudging her shoulder with his, demanding her attention and eventually getting it.

I was so close to walking up there and slicing his throat then watch as it formed a pool around his body.

Before I could act on those destructive thoughts, she slipped out of the group, looking miserable as fuck, expression downward and shoulders hunched.

I slipped behind her the moment she fetched her phone and started texting her friends.

She didn’t even realize I was there until she saw my reflection in the glass.

I’ve thought of a million methods of handling Cecily Knight once I had her beneath my claws again. I could play with her until she breaks.

Hold her hostage until she squirms.

My favorite is to let her run just so I can catch her.

But now that she’s standing in front of me so close that I can breathe the water lilies off her skin and count the freckles dusting her cheeks, none of those options seem like enough.

And when the green of her eyes darkens? Fuck me. I want to do bad things to this girl.

Yes, I know she’s angry, but my cock can’t take a hint to save his life.

Cecily never dresses up for nights out. She has the same copy-paste style of jeans, a T-shirt, and comfy-looking tennis shoes. But tonight, the shirt is a bit tighter, molding against the curve of her round breasts and her defined waist.

The writing on it is in big, bold letters. Party person. Not.

Ever since she whirled around, I’ve been clenching my fist at my side, barely stopping my beast from taking action. He’s aroused by the expression on her face.

The stiffness of her muscles.

The sharpness of her demeanor.

Defiance radiates off her in waves. She’s glaring at me, but something else lurks behind the apparent emotion.

Something like…disdain. Pain.

“I’m not starting anything with you.” Her body shakes with the guttural quality of her voice.

She’s forcing something a lot deeper than words.

I lean against the car behind me, letting my body fall into a neutral stance by crossing my legs at the ankles. Either that or I’ll drag her with me by my hand around her throat.

A throat that’s no longer red and purple with the evidence of my teeth. It’s pale, translucent, crowded with veins and arteries peeking through the skin. Cecily watches my every move, that delicate throat working up and down with a swallow.

Note to self: mark it again.

I glide my forefinger against my thigh, back and forth in a controlled rhythm. “You are coming with me. Whether you do it nicely or after I resort to unpleasant methods is up to you.”

Her eyes darken further, muscles stiffening, and a halo of tension envelops her body.

She clicks on her key, the sound of the unlocking car echoing around us, but Cecily doesn’t break eye contact as she reaches behind her to open the door.

Hmm.

She’s smart enough to not give me her back again or put herself in a vulnerable position that I could and would make use of.

I knew I liked how fast she catches on. She’s so intelligent and careful, too careful sometimes, that I barely resist laughing at how far she’s backing herself in a corner.

None of her guarded behavior will make a difference, but I like that she tries.