God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3)

He’s become a seasoned stalker who’s everywhere. He doesn’t need to say anything to prove his existence—his actions speak louder than words.

There’s nothing more frightening or threatening than his mere presence that he thoroughly uses to intimidate people—me included.

The thought of him acting on his threats and actually telling everyone what I enjoy doing in the dark terrorizes me more than I like to admit.

So every night, after the girls fall asleep, I sneak out of the flat like a thief and drive to the gothic place in the middle of nowhere.

It’s where I’m veiled by night. No one sees when I go to take part in my depraved tendencies, and no one hears when I scream as he fucks me into oblivion.

Because he does, and often, sometimes a few times during the same night.

He chases me whether inside the house or all over the property. The harder I run and fight him, the more animalistic he becomes, like a primal being who’s staking his claim.

The louder I scream, the deeper he goes, exposing and provoking the darkest parts of me.

He makes me beg sometimes, too, and always tells me to scream his name when he’s fucking me, smashing my world to pieces and ripping it apart.

Jeremy is a savage devil and an unapologetic sociopath. I know because I’ve been around him long enough to put an appropriate label on him.

Though he might be a psychopath, considering his lack of impulsive actions. He always seems in control, the commander of his being, and a planner. But he somehow cares for those closest to him, namely Annika, and his Heathen gang.

His parents, too, according to what his sister tells us.

But I’m not sure if that’s genuine care or a sense of responsibility that’s been implemented in him ever since he was young. Either way, Jeremy lacks humanity and empathy.

He has no qualms about destroying anyone who stands in his path, and he certainly feels no remorse for his actions. In his mind, he believes the course of events that took place had to happen in that certain way, and there’s no force of nature that can convince him otherwise.

Due to his inflexible values, opinions, and actions, it’s hard to get a say with him.

It’s even harder to get him to see reason—not when he believes that his way is the most logical choice.

It’s more impossible to get him to let me go.

In the beginning, I thought his fixation with me was a phase that would dull with time. An obsession that would eventually purge its way out of his system.

After all, whether he’s a sociopath or a psychopath, Jeremy scores high on the antisocial spectrum, and his type has a fickle sense of relationships and an even shorter attention span.

To my horror, the exact opposite has happened.

Not only is he not growing bored of me, but he’s also extending the amount of time I spend in his company.

Now, he fucks me longer and won’t let me leave until the early hours of the morning, so I’ve started going back to the flat at near dawn.

He never asks me to stay the night, though. Never fucks me unclothed, and never steps in the shower with me.

That’s his way of creating distance between us and letting me know that I’m nothing more than his fuck toy. One he enjoys chasing and fucking, but never one to hold in his arms or show affection to.

He cooks for me, cleans me afterward, and even carries me in his arms to the cottage, but that’s the extent of his affection. Or the lack thereof.

At the start, I refused to admit that his treatment of me after sex is the reason for the bursts of emptiness I feel sometimes. I don’t even like Jeremy.

I don’t.

Not even if he buys me special editions of my favorite mangas, lets me talk about whatever subject I’m studying, and fixes me delicious dishes.

I certainly wouldn’t grow a soft spot for him because he makes each of my sexual fantasies come true. Or admit that he’s slowly allowing me to grow into that part of myself and accept it as a fragment of who I am.

While I enjoy the sexual part of things and how he pushes every button inside me, I’m well aware of who Jeremy Volkov actually is.

I know of his mafia legacy. While I’ve been dreaming of helping others as Mum does, he’s set to be a leader for blood-fests.

We don’t speak or think the same things. He’s too emotionless, and I’m too caring. He lacks empathy, while I feel it more than need be.

Jeremy and I are doomed for disaster, but don’t they say toxic relationships have the best sex? Though we’re not in a relationship.

I don’t even know what to call the thing we have.

It’s something, but I’m not sure what.

And because we’re not in a relationship, I shouldn’t have let Ava drag me to the fight club to watch him.

Or more like to watch the semi-finals. Between Jeremy and Landon.

I’ve been on edge ever since I heard those two would fight, but I never thought it would be so nerve-racking in person.

The buzzing crowd from our university and TKU don’t help. Noise, chatter, and bets made under the table mix in a symphony of chaos.

I’ve never liked these scenes, but Ava has a thing for watching men clash.

And I don’t have the heart to let Ava come on her own. Glyn loathes violence and never comes here if she can help it, not to mention she’s probably busy with her boyfriend, Killian.

As for Anni, well, she’s occupied with her own romance, too. Besides, she’s forbidden to set foot here under her tyrant brother’s orders.

I swear he enjoys ordering people around. Whenever I attempt to defy him, he turns up the crazy a notch to put me back where he thinks I belong.

Ava punches her open palm, craning her head in the direction of the fighting ring. We’re in the second row on the side, so we have an excellent view, all thanks to her ticket-purchasing talents.

“May Lan beat that arsehole to a pulp and free Anni of his dictatorial reign. Amen.”

I inch closer to her when some guy bumps into me. Ava shoos him away and takes my place, so I’m near the wall. My friend knows full well that I don’t like to be touched, especially suddenly or by strangers.

You don’t mind being fucked to within an inch of your life by Jeremy.

“I don’t hear your amen, Cecy.” Ava gasps. “Or do you want Jeremy to win?”

“What? Of course not.”

I don’t even know what I’m doing watching this match.

There’s been murky water between me and Lan ever since he abused my trust. I deleted the folder I have of his pictures and stopped having stupid feelings for him. As for Jeremy and me, we’re…fuck buddies who share the same kink but don’t have anything else in common.

No clue why that thought fills me with a sense of depression.

As if on cue, Landon strolls to the middle of the ring in a roar of cheers from REU students.

He’s wearing only blue satin shorts and wraps that cover his hands and wrists. The crowd goes nuts and starts cheering and screaming and chanting his name.

A wolfish grin lifts his lips as he flings his arms wide and throws his head back, looking to be in complete euphoria.

“King! King! King!”

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