God of Wrath (Legacy of Gods #3)

“Don’t fuck with me, Cecily. Do I have to deal with Eli King, too?”

“No, no. Jeez no,” I blurt. It’s inconvenient enough that he thinks he should deal with Lan in the first place. Add Eli, and we’d have a disaster on our hands.

“You didn’t answer my question. How come someone as reserved, careful, and methodical as you fell for Landon, knowing full well he’s antisocial and lacks humanity?”

I stare at the fire crackling opposite us. It’s dwindled, almost dying down. “I fell for the idea of him, not his true self. I doubt anyone has actually seen what his true nature is like. I realize that now that I know…” what falling for someone is like.

What the hell? I almost said that out loud.

I nearly divulged my deepest, darkest secret and allowed him to hurt me again, stomp on my barely beating heart, and leaving me stranded.

The last time still makes my eyes burn with tears whenever I think about it.

My gaze strays back to Jeremy, who’s never looked away from me. He’s watching me with a ferociousness that could disintegrate a fortress.

In this moment of careful peace, it hits me. I fell for Jeremy the exact opposite way I fell for Lan.

I liked the image Lan projected but was repulsed by his true anarchist, empty self.

I hated Jeremy at first sight. His otherworldly physique and handsome looks were a mere camouflage of a monster, but the more I got to know him, the harder I fell for the hidden parts of him.

Parts that he strategically hides from the world but voluntarily showed me.

“Now that you know what?” he asks when I remain silent.

“That he’s an empty shell,” I blurt. “He doesn’t matter right now. I don’t think he ever did.”

It’s subtle, almost too hidden to be noticed, but a slight twitch lifts Jeremy’s lips. “We finally agree on something.”

I smile, feeling lighthearted and a bit sleepy, too, but I grab his hand tighter and ask, “Hey, Jeremy?”

“Yes?”

“Are you aware of the rumors going around about you?”

His lips curve. “Which ones?”

“So you are aware.”

“More or less.”

“Are they true?”

“If you’re asking whether I’ve killed, tortured and driven people to the brink of death, then the answer is yes to all. I don’t do it for fun or to satisfy any sort of bloodlust, and usually I have people who do the job for me, but I won’t shy away from getting my hands dirty if need be.”

I go still as the dooming reality of his nature slams into me. Suspecting it is one thing but having the proof right here is entirely different.

“Are you scared of me?” His question stabs the careful silence.

“Not you. Your world,” I say after a while. “But I’ll try to understand, even though it will likely take me a long time.”

“Why would you do that?”

Because I care about you and I’d rather understand than let you go.

Instead of saying that, I smile. “I like being open-minded. Also, Jeremy?”

“Hmm?”

“Why aren’t you torturing me to reveal where Creighton has taken Annika? Isn’t that why you came to the shelter in the first place?”

“You said he wouldn’t hurt her, and while I’m skeptical, I choose to believe you. I don’t want to put you in a position where you must betray your friend’s trust, even if he’s a motherfucker. Besides, my father is working on it. If I don’t have to involve you, I won’t.”

A shiver snakes down my spine and leaves me trembling. How can he say things like that without any consideration to my slowly melting heart?

“Is…your mum okay?” I ask.

He shakes his head once. “The whole thing with Annika hit her hard. She’s always shared a deep connection with her, and now, she thinks she’s losing her for good… Hey, what’s wrong?”

It’s then I realize I’m shaking. I can’t do this. I can’t just keep shielding Creigh while knowing many people are suffering, including Annika, who I’m sure wouldn’t like being locked away from the outside world.

But I can’t have Jeremy hurt him either.

“If…” I trail off and clear the ball clogging my throat. “If I tell you where they are, will you promise not to hurt Creigh?”

A muscle works in his strong jaw. “He kidnapped my sister.”

“He loves her, Jeremy. I know you don’t want to believe it, but I’ve never seen Creighton attached to anyone the way he is to Anni. And no matter how much you deny it, you’re well aware that she loves him, too.”

His jaw clenches.

I get up and carefully wrap my arms around his neck, expecting him to push me away. Jeremy might let me hold on to him during sex, but he goes rigid whenever I touch him intimately outside of it.

It’s like he can’t get used to the emotions pouring out of him.

However, this time, not only does he let me, but he also doesn’t show any signs of discomfort. Maybe he’s getting used to me as much I’m getting used to him.

“Please, Jeremy.” I stroke the hairs at his nape, knowing how much he likes that. “Do this for your parents and yourself. I’m sure you miss Anni, right?”

A grunt is all he offers.

“Do you promise you won’t hurt him?”

One second.

Two.

Three…

“Fine. I promise.”

I squeal and kiss him on the cheek. It’s so natural that both of us pause afterward.

“Thank you,” I whisper awkwardly.

“Don’t thank me yet. If he hurt my sister, I’ll chop his head off.”

I’m sure Creigh wouldn’t.

The fact remains, Jeremy’s inclination for violence is something I’ll need to eventually get used to.

He’s a beast, but he’s the beast who breathes life into me.

He’s the beast who’d slaughter the world to pieces just to protect me from it.

He’s my beast.

I just have no idea what I am to him.





34





JEREMY





“What are we doing here?”

The sound of Cecily's spooked voice makes me smile. I don’t mean to. It just happens.

A lot of things about her make me smile. Whether it’s her silly psychoanalyzing of fictional characters, her attachment to said characters, or the expression she makes when she’s caught off guard.

Like right now.

I hop off my bike and throw the helmet into the hands of an awaiting Ilya. He nods at me, then at Cecily, whose brows have lifted to nearly touch her hairline.

She doesn’t blink or react as I grab her hand and start to guide her into the mansion. It isn’t until we’re at the threshold that she physically shakes her head and draws us to a stop.

“Seriously. What are we doing here?”

“Didn’t you ask the other day why I never bring you here?”

Her throat works with a swallow and her hand grows slack in mine. She’s so close that I can see the tiny freckles dusting her cheeks, the smudge of darker roots in her silver hair, and breathe in her scent.

Fucking water lilies. I never thought I’d be as entranced by a scent as I am with Cecily’s.

I’ve never liked anyone enough to focus on them, to want to learn more about them, to engrave myself so deep beneath their skin that they can’t remove me unless they cut themselves open and bleed.

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