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

But the other option was to wait in the reception area, where anyone could walk in and see me.

Not happening.

Getting myself in was safer. If he’s mad about that, then, well, maybe he should’ve changed the code.

Or not asked me to come here ten times a day like a mantra.

Still, I’m uncomfortable as I sit on the sofa, my uneasy breaths only interrupted by the creaks of the leather beneath me.

His place is proper huge compared to the rest of the flats on the island and would definitely be considered a penthouse anywhere in London.

The decor is modern, slick, and polished. Everything is in perfect shape and the decorations seem untouched, probably because it’s a new building. I don’t think he lives here most of the time, though, considering the lack of life anywhere in this place.

Feeling a bit stuffy, I shrug off my jacket and place it neatly on the chair’s armrest. I’d rather hang it instead, but I don’t want it to feel like I’m taking liberties in his space.

I removed my shoes at the entrance as well so as not to track in any dirt.

The other day, I was a bit too preoccupied to remember my manners. Not that I’m in a better state of mind today, but he’s not here so…

I run a hand over my face and stare up at the cloudy sky through the transparent ceiling. What am I doing, seriously?

This will inevitably lead to a disaster that will undoubtedly push me to purge the pain.

This will hurt. Again.

This will make the black ink submerge me and shove me to the darkest corners of my soul.

And yet I can’t move.

I don’t want to.

I lift my phone and stare at the texts I sent Nikolai. My chest constricts when I see that he read them, but he didn’t reply.

What does that mean?

He never ignores my texts, aside from when he ghosted me. This morning was the first time he didn’t glue himself to my side despite my grumbles and attempts to push him away. In fact, he didn’t show up at all.

Maybe he’s done chasing me. He definitely didn’t seem that interested in me when Jeremy was all over him between rounds of the fight.

Bloody hell.

I cover my eyes with my arm. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can’t I remove the image of Jeremy touching him so intimately from my head?

In fact, that was part of the reason why I left the fight club. The first part was being unable to watch him being punched by Killian. Even if he punched back twice as hard.

The ticking sound goes into overdrive in my head, driving me up the wall.

Tick.

He’s not coming.

Tick.

Why would he? No one really wants you.

Tick.

You look pathetic. Just leave already.

A migraine starts to form at the back of my skull as the demons run rampant, spouting their hatred and telling me what they think of me without mincing their words.

I know I should leave. I do. But for some reason, I’m rooted in place.

The reality of the situation bursts through me without warning.

I don’t want to leave.

The lift dings and a rush of adrenaline spreads through my chest.

Simmer down. Desperate much?

Not sure the reprimand works, because when I stand, my feet barely keep me upright. My skin prickles when I feel his overwhelming presence, but then I see him, and my lips part.

Splashes of blood cover some of the tattoos on his chest and decorate his handsome features. His hair is tied in a messy bun, strands escaping and framing his face with a sheen of savagery.

I haven’t seen him this unhinged since the initiation. But even back then, he was more pushy and playful than…desolate.

His eyes are uncharacteristically empty, a blue so dark, I can’t see the Nikolai I’ve come to know over the past couple of weeks in them.

“Hey, sorry I let myself in—” The words are barely out when he smashes his body against mine.

The breath is knocked out of my lungs as we both go crashing down on the sofa. I lift my hand to try and get some balance, but he grabs my wrists and slams them above my head and shoves his knee between my legs, forcing them apart.

“Nikolai, what are you—”

“Shut. Your. Mouth.” He bites my lower lip with every word, eliciting a shudder from me.

My head spins and a shiver spreads across my skin and ends in my dick.

Am I supposed to feel this turned on by a kiss? It’s not even a full kiss.

Fuck.

I exist in his vicinity, then I’m on edge.

He touches me and I catch fire.

This is why I did everything in my power to put some distance between us. Get back control over my shameless reaction to him.

Nikolai doesn’t understand the concept of distance, though.

His teeth pull rougher than usual and tingles explode on the skin trapped between them.

But I like this type of pain. This pain isn’t mental or emotional. This pain means I’m right here, not swallowed up by black ink or pulled under by disgusting nausea.

“Who the fuck is she?” he growls against my mouth, his coarse words vibrating on my skin.

I try to clear my head, which is impossible under the circumstances. “Who’s who?”

“The girl who was throwing herself in your arms at my fucking fight.”

“A-Ava?”

“Ava. Her name would look fucking pretty on a gravestone.”

“What the…” I sober up a little and try to release myself from his grip. His fingers dig into my skin, prohibiting me from moving.