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

My attempts to free myself only manage to amuse him to no end. So I scratch at his hand, but that doesn’t erase the provocative smirk from his face.

He releases me, though he doesn’t give my space back. “My, my. You’re supposed to be a harmless tiny mouse, but you’re fast upgrading to a kitten with claws. Such a feisty little one.”

I hug the Frappuccino against my chest and sign, “I’m not little, you psycho asshole. Go fuck yourself.”

“Calling me names won’t stop me from referring to you as little. And I would rather fuck a hole instead of doing it myself.”

My lips part.

No. He couldn’t have understood every word. It’s just impossible.

This prick can’t possibly—

“Surprised I speak ASL?” He grins. “I figured it’d be better than scribbling on your phone whenever you’re about to burst with curses. Now, I understand all the curses, not just the fuck-you ones.”

“How?” I sign, bewildered.

“I happen to be a genius. You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t thank you, asshole.”

“Which you should’ve. Again, where are your manners?”

“You’re talking to me about manners when you have a tendency to corner people like a creep?”

“I prefer the word observer.”

I sneer, my chest nearly exploding from the audacity of this damn man.

“Walk with me?” he asks like some sort of a medieval gentleman that he definitely is not.

I lift my chin. “You expect me to say yes to that?”

“No, which is why I asked politely. The next time won’t be as polite, so I suggest you accept the offer before it’s taken off the table.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

“As I mentioned, I prefer holes, Mia. Keep up. At any rate, we’re moving to the second stage.” His voice lowers. “Walk with me or I will ask Maya instead.”

My spine jerks.

“She’s finished school for the day and is probably filming herself for social media in the Pin Café, which happens to be her hangout. I suppose if I walk there, I’ll find her within fifteen minutes. Should I?”

“I’ll slice your throat before you talk to her.”

“You mean, walk with her.”

“Stop it.”

He stands straighter, devouring the horizon and my air. “There’s only one way for me to do that and it is, as I specified a few moments ago, if you fucking walk with me.”

Every molecule in me demands I kick him in the face and send shards of the sunglasses into his damn eyes.

But I have enough access to logic to realize that if I do that, I can’t guarantee Maya’s safety.

She tends to fall for men’s looks more often than not, and if this bastard pulls the charming card that he wields so well, he might convince her he never intended to hurt Nikolai. He might flirt and seduce her until she reaches the point of self-destruction.

Because that’s what this asshole does. He ruins things and he ruins them thoroughly without allowing them a chance of survival.

My fingers tighten on the Frappuccino, the cold condensation doing nothing to alleviate the volcano raging in my veins.

“Let’s do it later,” I sign while offering him my worst glare. “I have class now.”

“The class can wait.” He grabs my elbow, fingers nearly breaking the bone. “I can’t.”

He pulls me with a strength that makes me lose balance. The Frappuccino falls and splashes on the ground, the cream and coffee forming a gruesome murder scene.

The ominous image lingers in my head as he drags me behind him with blinding strength.

I try to push at his hand, to claw the skin and cause pain, but then again, he’s barely human and definitely inhumane, so his type doesn’t really feel anything.

In my attempts to free myself, I don’t notice we’re already outside the campus. Landon has dragged me to where he parked his car in a secluded place a safe distance from the college.

I know it’s his car, because I saw it at the Elites’ mansion once. A special edition, matte black McLaren with a unique shine material on the side.

It looks as elusive as the asshole himself.

He releases me, then removes the hoodie and his sunglasses. I often forget how illegally attractive he is, even in casual wear. He has a regal presence. Toned body, broad shoulders, lean waist, and the right height.

Everything is perfection—from his tousled hair to the slight stubble on his strong jaw. Even his only imperfection, the mole on the corner of his right eye, adds more to his penetrating charm.

An illusionary charm that he wears like a permanent mask.

Or maybe it’s not so permanent. He certainly didn’t waste any time in coming after me and showing his true colors following my fabulous blood bath plan.

“Why did you bring me here?” I sign.

“I couldn’t exactly stay in the Heathens’ territory for long or some spy would point your brother and cousins in my direction and there would be carnage. For them, not me.”

“Stop being delusional. You could never win against my brother, Kill, and Jeremy.”

“But I already did. Countless times. I can do it all over again if you need tangible proof that I’m stronger than all the Heathens.”