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

Thick silence permeates the air, intertwined with thick tension and simmering violence.

I can see it in his eyes. In the darkening gray that blends with the night. Even his body has stiffened, transforming into one block of lethal muscle trained to inflict pain.

That’s precisely what I expect, and I wouldn’t be surprised after my outburst. If we were alone, I have no doubt that he’d bend me over and fuck me.

Punish me.

Make me beg so he can do it all over again.

However, his grip doesn’t tighten around my elbow. In fact, he releases it, hesitantly, as if that’s the exact opposite of what he wants to do.

“You have feelings for me?” he speaks in an unaffected tone, one that’s filled with so much apathy, my spine jerks upright.

It’s like he’s preparing for the blow that will disintegrate me.

He steps forward, towering over me, but he doesn’t touch me. Only his warmth strangles me, and his scent pools at the bottom of my belly.

“Not anymore,” I say with confidence I don’t feel.

“If you don’t, why would you ask me not to play with them? Are you a liar, Cecily?” His chest rises and falls as if in dissatisfaction, in anger.

His muscles grow rigid, and every particle of his body seems to have gained a presence of its own.

He reaches out a hand that appears so large and intimidating. I flinch, but it’s too late.

He’s already wrapped it around my throat, his fingers digging in the flesh with a firmness that doesn’t allow me to breathe, let alone move.

“Responsible Cecily. Selfless, altruistic, sacrificial Cecily.” His voice has dipped, and so have his brows, but there’s a slight snarl in his upper lip. “You care so much about your friends, don’t you? Your family, your little circle of foolish jokes and empty nothingness. You’re the mother, no? The one who ensures everyone is home safe, that no one ends up with a random pregnancy, drinks too much, or is all alone.”

I swallow, but even that is constricted by his grip. I don’t like the tone of his voice or the darkness coating it.

It’s like I’m talking to that masked stranger in the forest that first time.

As if we’re back to square one.

“And yet, you dropped Annika off your list so easily. You know exactly how lonely she is, how ecstatic she was to make friends. I don’t give a fuck if anyone else removes her from their lives as if she were never there, but you, you’re a fucking liar, Cecily.”

He releases me with a jerk, and I stumble backward on shaky legs that barely hold me upright.

His words might as well be a knife slashing through my chest and lodging in my bones.

So this is what he’s been mad about. It’s probably why he cut me off completely, too.

I resist the need to massage where he gripped me. “I love Anni, I really do, but I don’t like what she did to Creigh.”

“Are you Creighton?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you are Creighton. You’re not, so why the fuck are you acting on his behalf?”

“You don’t understand. Creigh has always been distant and silent, and we thought she brought him out of his shell, but then—”

“Don’t offer excuses,” he grinds out before he releases a breath. “Just admit that you jumped on the bandwagon, saw what everyone else did, and chose to act the same because you don’t like being left behind.”

“I’m not like that.”

“But you are. Didn’t you refuse to do what you craved because it’s frowned upon by others? Didn’t you cry when I said I’d tell them about your tendencies? You’re nothing but a heartless, coward liar. Did you say I was playing with your feelings? Good. That way, I can crush them.” He brushes past me. “I have no use for someone who’s disloyal.”

Then he leaves.

Without a look back.

As if he didn’t just smash my heart to pieces and leave me to flounder in its blood.





30





CECILY





“Aaaand we lost her!”

I lift my head with a jerk that startles both Glyn and Ava, the latter being the one who caught my attention just now.

We’re having a girls’ night for the first time since Anni left about a month and a half ago.

This gathering includes a lot of drinking because none of us want to talk or think about the empty spot in our circle or the echoing sound of her absence.

We’re sitting on the sofa, dressed in fluffy pajamas, which was Ava’s idea. She said if we’re going to party at the house, we need to look like glam characters from black-and-white films.

So we’re all wearing her robes covered with feathers, faux fur, and everything uncomfortable.

“I was saying, have you heard the news?” Ava asks from her position on my right.

“What news?”

“Jonah turned himself in for drug acquisition and assaulting a minor.”

The bottle of beer tilts in my hand. I’m not drunk. Hell, I’ve just had this one, and it’s only halfway finished, so I can’t be imagining things.

“Did you just say Jonah turned himself in? The same Jonah we know?”

“Yeah, your ex.”

“Wow,” Glyn breathes out. “I didn’t know he was such a lowlife. You dodged a bullet there, Ces.”