God of Fury (Legacy of Gods #5) by Rina Kent

Fucking fear.

Those nicks of the razor were not a coincidence. They were a sign.

“What’s the meaning of this?” I ask in a voice I don’t recognize. “Fucking look at me, Brandon!”

He slowly raises his head, his lips trembling.

“You cut yourself?” My words are low, but they’re so loud in the silence. “Why?”

“Because I’m fucked up.” His voice sounds like death’s lullaby, anguished and shattered. “Because I look at myself in the mirror and get the urge to shatter it to pieces. Because I’ve been haunted by the bitter taste of nausea and self-loathing for so long, I don’t know how to live without them. I was doing fine, pretending and putting on a façade, so why the fuck did you ruin that? Why did you come into my life and destroy every wall I built and ruin every lie I told myself? Why do you touch me like I’m beautiful? Why don’t you hate me when I can’t stand my-fucking-self?”

“I can’t hate you, baby. It’s impossible.” I lift his wrist up and brush my lips at the edge of the cut.

A whimper falls from his mouth and he throws himself at me. I stagger but he keeps me in place by wrapping his arms around me.

His fingers dig into my skin and it hurts as he squeezes me against him. His trembling body fuses to mine and he breathes harshly into my neck.

“Baby? You okay?”

“Please…” His voice is muffled. “Please let me hold you like this. It doesn’t hurt when you touch me.”

I grab onto him, pressing him further into me, harder, closer, until I’m not sure where I end and he begins.

Seems that Bran runs way deeper than I thought, but as he hangs on to me as if I’m his only anchor, I know that I’ll never let him go.

Not even if I burn with him.

For him.

In him.

I’d willingly catch fire if he so much as asked me to.





27





BRANDON





“It doesn’t even make sense.”

I nod along, although I have no clue what Cecily and Glyn are talking about. I agreed to meet them for afternoon tea out of habit and I regretted the decision almost immediately.

My head is a fucking mess and I’m barely functioning. I can’t muster the energy to put on a façade, let alone fake my smiles properly.

“Don’t you think so, Bran?”

I lift my head from my cup of tea and stare at Cecy. “Hmm?”

“About the fact that Ava is up to no good. She’s making a lot more trouble lately and keeps going to all these fights.”

“You know how she is,” I say, tracing the rim of my cup. “Just give her space and she’ll come around.”

Besides, judging by what I witnessed the other day when she ‘pretended’ to come see me, I’m exceptionally aware of what’s going on between her and my unruly eldest cousin. In fact, at this point, everyone but her knows what’s up. Her inability to submit to reality or at least acknowledge it is possibly why she’s been spiraling out of control. I tried advising her, but she’s too hotheaded to listen and prefers indulging in Lan’s plots of mayhem that target Eli.

My brother’s aim is entirely to egg Eli on and have fun, but she’s digging her own grave. Whether intentionally or unintentionally, I have no clue.

“I’m worried, though,” Cecily says with a frown.

“Me, too.” Glyn stuffs her face with a macaron and my chest twists into a knot.

I can’t help recalling the sweet-toothed monster who’s always stealing from any box of pastries I bring.

He hasn’t touched any lately, though.

My heart aches and I clear my throat, but it does nothing to alleviate the lump stuck in there.

It’s been a week since the day I had a breakdown and nearly splintered to pieces. But I didn’t, because Nikolai held me through it.

And he did it for a long time.

Until my knees went numb and I became lethargic. Until the cut stopped burning and itching and driving me fucking mental.

Then he made me lean on him and carried me out of the tub because I couldn’t stand upright. I was a pathetic mess, a shadow of a person, and the very fucking thing I was terrified he’d see.

I expected disgust or, worse, pity, but I couldn’t see any on his face.

He looked extremely focused as he dried me off, helped me put on some clothes, then let me sleep while strangling him.

The thought that he’d leave triggered a panic so deep, I was hyperventilating. I think I hurt him by how hard I clung to him, but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, he held me tighter and kissed my eyelids, my nose, my cheek, the top of my head—anywhere he could reach.

That’s when I finally fell asleep.

He left me alone the day after, although I could tell he had a lot of questions.

But then I found out the reason he didn’t get in touch was because he was fighting my brother the following night.

I asked him not to. I begged him, even, but he went along with it anyway.

There’s something Nikolai doesn’t know that I’ve been keeping a secret—aside from my fucked-up state of mind. His sister Mia is in some sort of relationship with my brother.

When I found out about that, I tried to warn her away, but she was as hard-headed as her brother and wouldn’t listen. Lan is also acting uncharacteristically possessive of her, which he’s never done with his previous conquests.