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

I pat his shoulder and whisper, “Bran is nice, but I’m not. Keep that in mind when you attempt anything funny.”

“Fuck you.”

“Fortunately, you’re not my type.” Your sister is.

But I don’t say that in an attempt to remain civil and, most importantly, keep my balls in one piece for today. Besides, I’m already beaten up as it is.

I leisurely slide back into my car and drive away with loud revs of the engine while watching the three fools in my rearview mirror.

There will never be a day when I’m lumped in with them. Not even if I have to cut off my own arm to prevent it.





23





MIA





“What happened?” I sign as I frantically take in Nikolai’s bloodied state.

He’s half naked, his face a map of purple bruises with a split lip and a swollen eye. What’s worse is the manic, detached look in his darkening eyes.

“Just the usual fight,” Jeremy offers diplomatically, not bothering to hide the fake tone.

Killian leads Nikolai to the living area and throws him on one of the sofas with zero softness, then goes to a cabinet and retrieves his first aid kit.

“More like he got beaten up for nothing.” My cousin jams an alcohol gauze against Niko’s blood-coated nose. “I didn’t become a med student to fix your fuckups.”

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” I sign at the three of them.

Ever since Maya and Gareth fell asleep, I’ve been pacing the mansion’s entrance and imagining all sorts of scenarios. I just didn’t think it’d be this bad.

Imagine my reaction when the three of them come back after one in the morning. Killian’s wearing an annoyed expression and Nikolai looks to be on the verge of murdering an entire village.

Jeremy is the only one who seems grounded enough as he says, “He fought with Landon.”

My heart jolts so hard, I have to swallow a few times to catch my breath.

“Who invited the other?” I sign.

“Landon,” Jeremy says. “He sent the four of us texts, inviting us to watch him make a fool out of Niko.”

That motherfucker.

That’s why Kill and Niko abandoned the dinner without a backward glance.

How dare he ruin my dinner with my family? To beat up my brother, no less?

I stand in front of Nikolai and force him to look at me. “Did you lose to the bastard?”

“I beat him to within an inch of his life.”

“Good,” I sign, and yet a strange spark of pain slithers its way to my heart.

“He only won…” Killian applies ointment without practicing any form of gentleness. “Because Landon forfeited.”

“I would’ve won anyway,” Niko growls. “You’ve seen how I used him as my punching bag.”

“Then you let him go because someone happened to shout for you to stop.” Killian clicks his tongue at him.

My brother’s hands ball into fists and he fishes in his pants for a cigarette, then jams it between his lips. “Temporary lapse of judgment.”

“Was the parking lot also a temporary lapse of judgment?” It’s Jeremy who asks. “We had him in our claws and could’ve buried him alive then and there, but you chose to let him go.”

“You also let him go.” My brother points his cigarette at Killian, who’s finished cleaning the blood. “And you, too, motherfucker.”

“I’d love nothing more than to cut him to pieces and use his body as my forensic practice, but there’s a small problem.” Kill slams the first aid box shut. “He’s Glyn’s brother, and no matter how much she says she doesn’t get along with him, she worries about him and never stopped seeing him as her brother. I’d rather the mosquito stays alive, as annoying as he is, instead of risking losing her. Besides, he’s never satisfied with the lengths he goes to or the chaos he inflicts. In order to keep the same level of entertainment, he has no choice but to increase his diabolical plans. He can’t possibly get away with it for eternity and will eventually self-destruct. When that happens, I’ll make sure to offer Glyn a shoulder to cry on.”

“Kill is right.” Jeremy runs a hand over his face. “I’d love to punch him to death, but the better choice is to watch him dig his own grave. Maybe even help him dig faster without being directly involved in his demise.”

I stare between them as the ache in my heart blossoms and spreads throughout my chest. What is this all about?

Why am I completely taken aback by their animosity toward Lan, when I shared it until recently?

My lips part as the weight of my own words crashes against my chest.

The keyword being shared. Past tense.

Not too long ago, I hated Lan with a passion and personally orchestrated his downfall. Hell, I went on that spying mission for Jeremy so I could participate in Landon’s destruction.

And yet that plan has morphed into something carnal and utterly unrecognizable. It’s a haze of dangerous lust and intense desire. A red mist that I can only see him through.

I still hate the bastard’s guts, but I can’t seem to come down from the high he knows how to drag out of me so well.

What am I supposed to do in this situation? It’s only a matter of time before he targets my family or they target him. There’s just too much bad blood to ignore.