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

“He’s a genius at what he does, so the girls make sense,” Bran says. “What doesn’t make sense is them knowing he refuses any form of commitment but still flocking toward him anyway.”

I type, “A genius at what he does?”

“He’s a sculptor and he’s always been gifted,” Bran says with a smidge of envy. “He’s had many of his works exhibited since we were in secondary school.”

Oh, right. I heard about that before. I did contemplate ruining his art studio, but it’s thumbprint protected, so I couldn’t get access.

“I still prefer your paintings. They’re so relaxing and pretty,” I type and show Bran.

A rare smile curves his lips and he pats the top of my head.

“But Lan hasn’t sculpted in a while,” Remi says after swallowing a bite of food. “The other day, he said it’s just dull.”

“Dull?” Bran echoes. “Sculpting is the only thing that reins him in.”

“Maybe that’s why he’s been acting like a maniac lately.”

That can’t be a good sign, right?

We play together for another hour before I have to leave. Partly because I don’t want my brother to question why I was out late and partly because I don’t want to cross paths with Lan on my way out.

Still, I keep thinking about the conversation I had with Bran and Remi. How can I use the information I learned to get rid of that bastard Lan?

The answer is that I can’t. At least, not yet.

But I can store the information for later, until I eventually come up with something.

The chill of the night prickles my skin as I walk to the car.

It’s darker than I anticipated. I don’t like being outside alone in the dark. It’s where the monster lurk, waiting to ambush me.

The low yellow lights stacked between the trees do little to dissipate the claim of the night.

My skin crawls and I have to breathe deeply so as not to trigger the weak part of me.

I take large steps, but it doesn’t help to dissipate my imagination.

A rustle swishes from the trees before large heads with big, ugly snake eyes rear through the branches.

My breath catches and I give up trying to stay cool, then run to where I parked my car.

You’re not taking me today, assholes.

Not today.

The monsters flicker and grow in size until I can feel them spreading behind me like wildfire. They’re running and I’m running, but I don’t think I can outrun them.

My muscles scream with exertion and my breathing comes out chopped and unnatural.

I’m almost to the car.

Almost—

I jolt to a halt when a dark figure appears from behind a tree, wearing a mask.

A scream bubbles at the back of my throat, but I can’t release it.

All I can do is stand there as it approaches me with the intention of swallowing me whole.

“We meet again, mouse.”





7





MIA





“Bad girls get punished, and there’s nothing I love more than punishing.”

No.

My feet tremble, and a pebble creaks beneath my foot as I slide one leg back.

I can still hear the creatures of the dark moaning, groaning, and whispering unintelligible words into my ears.

As much as they scare me, as much as my heart shrivels and splinters, that’s nothing compared to the monster that’s standing in plain sight.

Every year I survived up to this point, every illusion I painted about getting over the past shatters into tiny black crystals.

I’m back to being that little girl who ran and fell, then ran again.

And again.

And—

The man in the mask approaches me with steady steps. Calm yet firm.

He’s slim but broad. Silent but lethal.

This is it.

I’ve escaped for so long, but I realize that was only an attempted escape. In reality, I’m stuck in the loop he created for me.

I try to summon the warrior inside me that I’ve been cultivating for over a decade, but there’s no sign of my usual boldness or bravado.

There’s just a girl. Cold, hungry, and absolutely terrified.

My legs aren’t moving anymore. The creatures of the dark have managed to catch me and they’re imprisoning me in place for their lord.

I open my mouth.

Mom.

Dad.

No words come out. Not even a tiny, horrified sound.

With both hands in his pockets, the masked monster eats up the space between us in seconds. Then he’s right in front of me, towering over me, his height invading the horizon and murdering its stars.

Rough shadows fall on the mask, turning darker, nearly black in the dim light. The holes where his eyes should be are hollow, bottomless, even.

Sharp fangs of horror sink into my skin. It doesn’t matter how much I tell myself to move. My mind has already turned against me and there’s no way to undo the spell.

“Have you already come to your senses?”

His voice is deep, distorted notes of destruction, a mythical beast with an agape mouth and shallow breath.

“Strange. I thought I would need to scare you for a bit more. Push you into a tighter corner. Toy with you till you collapse.”

The ringing in my ears heightens until all I can hear is my own heartbeat—high and torn to shreds.

“I love trapping misbehaving little creatures while they beg and cry. I might let them go or drive a sharp knife into their chests and watch them flounder and choke on their own blood. Metaphorically, of course.”