God of Ruin (Legacy of Gods #4) by Rina Kent

He looks at me with that frown again and it hits me then.

Landon is a blank page in the emotions department. He’s an emulator and a master adapter. None of the sentimental feelings are his own.

And I just demanded that he feel an emotion he absolutely can’t.

“Forget it,” I sign. “Those words were said in an emotion high and didn’t mean anything.

I go to the bathroom and close the door.

Then I slide to the floor and cover my face with my hands.

I always thought I’d be okay as long as Landon was a decent human being who didn’t just get off on violence and anarchy.

But now, I can only watch my heart bleed as I realize I want more.

I want the love he’ll never be able to give me.





By the time I finish showering, I feel worse than before, but, thankfully, Lan is already gone.

He tried to come in and even attempted to open the door by force, but after I sent him a text to leave me alone, he did, though reluctantly, and only after he promised that he’d be back.

I change into a black dress and boots, then slip out the back door to take a walk by the side of the road. Growing up, I often did this whenever I felt suffocated and needed more space.

The edge of the lake has better aesthetics, but it’s not as well lit as the road. And since our house is the only one in the area, no cars venture out this far.

The night chill blows beneath my dress and triggers goosebumps on my arms. I should’ve brought a jacket, but oh well. Maybe cold will be good on this occasion.

My phone vibrates and I bring it out, then smile when I see the name on the screen.

Brandon: How is everything? Did Lan cause trouble?

Define trouble, because if it means stomping all over my heart, then he did that with flying colors.

Mia: I wouldn’t call it trouble. He’s been excellent with my extended family.

Brandon: Charming people is what he does best. I’m glad it went better there than the disaster that happened here.

Mia: On that part, it did.

Brandon: Does that mean it didn’t on another part?

Mia: Maybe.

Brandon: Oh no. What did he do now?

Mia: Nothing disastrous. Don’t worry. At least, not yet. It’s just that I’m not sure where we’re supposed to go from here if I love him so much and he doesn’t know how to love. How do you deal with it, Bran?

Brandon: I just love him. But as I said, I have no choice, he’s my identical twin and the one person I know the best. It’s in our DNA to love our twins, no matter what they do. Besides, he might not know how to love, but he is learning how to care, and I can assure you that he cares for you more than I’ve seen him care for anyone else—himself included. The day I picked him up from the Heathens’ mansion, he looked both monstrous and shell-shocked. He mentioned you promised to leave him so Nikolai wouldn’t break his wrist. He looked me in the eye and said, “You told me to act against my instinct and try to understand what she thinks instead of what my beast dictates. We have a problem, Bran. I think Mia is the one who doesn’t understand and could use your boring lessons. If she truly ends things between us to save my art career, I’ll cut my own wrist and send the evidence of self-mutilation to her fucking brother via post. Perhaps if I do that, she’ll finally understand which one is more important.”

I read and reread Bran’s text, not believing my eyes.

Mia: He really said that?

Brandon: Yes. I’ve only ever known Lan as an artist. Sculpting is what puts a leash on his demons, even if temporarily. So the fact that he’s willing to give that up for you is colossally important. Maybe it’s not that he doesn’t know how to love, it’s more of a case that he does it differently.

My crushed heart that was burned not too long ago resurrects from the ashes, ready to sacrifice itself at Lan’s altar or break against his harsh edges.

Everything Bran said is true.

If I look at the time I’ve spent with Lan, he’s been so adamant about caring for me and making me feel comfortable.

It’s not really about words, it’s about actions.

How the hell could I forget that he was ready to lose his wrist and his flourishing art career instead of losing me just because he didn’t say ‘I love you’?

Footsteps sound behind me and I smile to myself. Of course Lan wouldn’t leave me alone for long.

My smile freezes when I stare into the eyes of darkness I would recognize anywhere.

Any-fucking-where.

The monster from my past.

The reason why I’m forever broken is staring back at me from behind a gun.

“We meet again, Mia. I heard you’ve been saying things you shouldn’t have.”





39





MIA





Monsters take different forms in people’s imaginations.

Some see them as phantom-like figures that could be mistaken for ghosts. Others imagine them as the ghoulish beast hiding under the bed or lurking behind the closet door.

For me, a monster has always taken the form of a stern, square-faced woman with a tight auburn bun and a cruel ruler.

Over the years, she’s started to blur into images of the yellow-eyed monster who’s been creeping into every corner of my room, waiting to pounce on me.

But now that I see her face again, all memories of the wooden ruler drift back into my consciousness.