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

“You mean to tell us you won’t discard her the moment you’re bored, which is due to happen very soon?” Bran asks.

“If I were going to get bored, I would’ve been so weeks ago.”

“But you will, Lan,” Glyn says. “That’s what you do. You get bored and you hurt people to feel a form of pleasure.”

“Thanks for the amateurish psychotherapy, little princess. But if you want to make your psychological endeavors more realistic, you should’ve inserted your boyfriend as a plug. Doesn’t he get bored easily as well?”

“Kill is different.”

“In what sense? You’ve managed to understand him because he’s similar to me, so why, suddenly, is he the love of your life while I’m the forever devil?”

“Because you’ve never made an effort to love us, Lan!” she screams. “I know you’re wired differently and no one can change your nature. I understand that. What I don’t understand is why you expect us to behave according to the lines you trace, and when we act out, you squash us until we fall back to where you want us to be. You protect us because of your sense of possessiveness and the fact that we make you look good. Bran and I protected you just now because, despite everything, you’re our brother and we care about you. We don’t calculate in our relationship with you and we certainly don’t use you just because we’re bored. All we want is for you to make an effort and stop following your narcissistic instincts when dealing with your own brother and sister.”

Tears gather in her eyes and Bran holds her by the shoulder, his expression as wretched as hers.

As the scene plays out in front of me, I recall the conversation I had with Uncle Aiden right after I cornered Mia in the tiny bathroom stall.

I’d intended to pretend to let her go just so I could sweep in again and remind her that I’m her only option.

But then I called Uncle Aiden. He’s Eli and Creighton’s father, but we’ve always been close because I’m that loveable.

Well, that’s a lie. He’s one of the few people who doesn’t judge me, despite my extreme chaos-oriented nature.

He also encouraged my dad to just let me be when I was developing my holier-than-thou personality.

Uncle Aiden has always treated me and Eli with respect, even though we’re different from everyone else.

Possibly because he shares some of our traits.

I put in my AirPods, fingers splaying on an unremarkable piece of clay that will definitely make it to the bin collection.

Uncle Aiden picks up after the first ring. “Why, hello, Landon. Is it just me or have you been avoiding me?”

“Me? Avoiding you? Not in a million years.”

“And here I thought you were reflecting about your recent reckless involvement in Creigh’s incident.”

“You know I didn’t mean to, Uncle.”

“Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.” He pauses, then sighs. “You might think yourself a god, but your clear disregard for consequences will catch up to you sooner rather than later.”

I stroke the hip of my creation, then pause. “Maybe it already has.”

“Oh?”

“Hey, Uncle.” Stroke, swipe, stroke. “You always told me it’s okay not to be like the other kids and that I’m not broken. You said that just because my mind is wired differently doesn’t mean I’m any less than them. In fact, it means I’m more special.”

“That’s true.”

“So why the fuck doesn’t she see that?”

“She?”

“A certain thorn in my side who’s accusing me of being empty and a disaster to the tedious emotion called empathy.”

“And you care about her opinion?”

“No…I don’t know.”

“Then you probably do.”

“How do I stop caring?”

Uncle laughs.

I narrow my eyes. “This isn’t funny.”

“It is to an extent. You sound childlike with your emotions. But at any rate, if you want to keep her, you need to practice empathy.”

“No, thanks.”

“Then let her go and go back to your shallow encounters with people you barely remember come morning. That way, you won’t have to care for the rest of your life and will be able to wear the emptiness she previously filled as a badge.”

My movements stop, fingers resting on the hip. “How do you know she filled the emptiness?”

“Your Aunt Elsa does that for me. In fact, so does your mother for your father.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your father wasn’t always put together, which is why he was a bit strict with you growing up. He didn’t want you to make the same mistakes he did.”

I didn’t know that. That must have been what he meant when he once said that he didn’t want me to regret my decisions after I grew up.

To which I naturally replied that I don’t do regrets.

Uncle Aiden continues, “That feeling of emptiness is a morbid emotion that eats you alive more and more the older you get, and unless you find someone to fill it, you’re irrevocably fucked. Sooner or later, you’ll succumb to higher felonies to reach that temporary reprieve that never lasts and will eventually self-destruct.”

I retrieve a cigarette, stuff it in my mouth, then light it. “I’m entirely uninterested in practicing empathy.”