God of Fury (Legacy of Gods, #5)

by Rina Kent

Once, a girl was like, “Choke me, Daddy,” and I nearly killed her. In my defense, she didn’t specify how hard I should choke her, so I went with the flow—the flow being maximum violence.

I jerk my arm away. “Why the hell would you lick me? Are you a dog?” “Woof.” He grins and I can’t even muster the emotions to be mad at him. Bloody wanker is mental. “Is there a way I can get rid of you?” I ask, my shoulders hunching. “If I die, maybe. Scratch that, I’ll haunt the fuck out of you until you join me, my Prince

Charming. Then we can have a fuck fest in ghost land.” “You need help.” “Then help me, baby.”

“So what do you like about my son?” I ask in my solemn tone, and that immediately puts a damper on the cheerful mood. Nikolai is the only one who doesn’t get the jab or the tone, or if he does, he completely ignores it. “The right question would be what I don’t like about him. Which is maybe three things…actually, I take that back. I like those things sometimes as well, so they don’t count.” “Is that your way of not giving me one single thing you like?”

“I’m happy to. How much time do you have, sir?” “As much as you need.” “Okay then.” He inhales deeply and speaks in one continuous breath. “I like that he’s responsible, punctual, takes all of his engagements seriously, steps up for justice, and helps in every way possible. I like his cooking, his rare smiles, and how dedicated he is to running and staying healthy. I like making him laugh and, eh, watching him sleep. I like how he’s fully concentrated when he’s in the art studio, but most of all, I like how he let me into his life and made a place for me there. I even like the boring Agatha Christie movie adaptations now, not because they’re any good, but because he’s truly obsessed with that shi—I mean, stuff. I even like his nagging and control-freak tendencies most of the time,

so yeah, there’s nothing I don’t like…actually, there’s something. He has this habit of putting everyone else’s comfort before his own, or he pretends to be fine when he’s obvio...

“By the way.” Nikolai grins at Bran. “I’m totally going to tell my dad to ask you that exact same question when you meet him. I want to hear what you have to say.”

“You were.” Nikolai appears beside me, pouting like a child. “Cockblocker of the Year Award goes to the almighty Kyle Hunter.”

“Nikolai.” I elbow him. Kyle, however, doesn’t seem fazed and even raises an eyebrow. “Seems adequate. Finally

some revenge for all the cock-blocking you indulged in during your toddler years.” “I was literally a toddler. Get over it.” “And your junior years and preteen years,” he counts on one hand. “Teenage years and uni years…should I keep counting?” “I can’t believe this!” Nikolai throws his hands in the air. “Hello, Petty Police? I’m reporting my dad.” “L...

“Hey, Dad.” He nudges him. “Do it.” “Do what?” “That thing we talked about.” I stare between them as Kyle actually rolls his eyes. “Do I have to?” “Come on, I’ve been asking you for months!” “Fine.” His eyes meet mine as he exhales. “This is ridiculous.” My ears prickle and I feel the heat rising to them. “What’s going on?”

“Bran, I need to ask you a very serious question.” I straighten, all humor disappearing. “Anything.” “What do you like about my twat of a son?” “The twat part didn’t need to be there!” Nikolai pushes his dad teasingly. “I also didn’t need to ask that very silly question when you’re already together.” “His dad did it. I wanted you to do it as well.” My chuckle breaks their banter and I clear my throat. “I like that he oozes confidence, too much so sometimes. I like that he’s fiercely loyal, intensely protective, and loves with every fiber of his being. I like that he never fakes his actions or his emotions—what you see is literally what you get. But most of all, I like, no, I love that he loves me.”

A shit-eating grin covers Nikolai's face and I smile back, not even embarrassed by saying all that out loud. “That was actually very touching,” Kyle says, then nudges his son with a foot. “Happy now?” “Very. Now, go away, Dad. Seriou...

forever. He’s come so far since then. Has gotten so much better at dealing with his emotions. Has learned to forgive himself and even smile at his image in the mirror. That didn’t stop the control-freak tendencies, though. That’s a personality trait—one I love just like he secretly loves my reckless behavior sometimes. He doesn’t try to change me and embraces me the way I am. He doesn’t care who I have to maim as long as I don’t get hurt in the process. That’s when he loses it. I kid you not. Once, Kill threw a lighter at my head since he loves hitting me with random shit. Bran threw it back at his head and told him point-blank not to hit me anymore or he wouldn’t stand for it. Did I fall in love with him a bit deeper after that? Possibly. Bran shudders and his hands wrap around me, one gripping my waist and the other pulling my hair free as he throws his head against the wall with a throaty groan. I inhale him into my lungs and keep him there—citrus and fucking mine. “Bed. Now.” I growl against his fully marked neck, and the best part? He doesn’t hide my hickeys anymore. If anything, he loves leaving some of his own, too. “Can’t have you running around and attracting unwanted attention. The world needs to know who you belong to,” is what he tells me every time.

“That scene was our beginning, as unglamorous as it was. No matter how scared I was of you and everything you presented, I wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re the purest, most passionate soul I’ve ever met. You loved me when I didn’t even like myself. You held me together when I was falling apart and helped me put myself back together one piece at a time until I became the man I am today.” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a dark-blue velvet box, then opens it to show two rings. “I love you more than words can describe and I’ll be honored if you choose to spend the rest of your life with me so I can give back a fraction of what you’ve given me. Nikolai Sokolov, would you marry me⁠—” The words aren’t fully out of his mouth when I fall to my knees in front of him and drag his lips to mine, kissing him like a fucking madman until I’m lost in him and he’s breathing my air. He wrenches his lips back but seals his forehead to mine. “Is that a yes?” “Fuck yes, baby. I’ll marry the fuck out of you and make you my husband today if you want.” His grin nearly blinds me as he slips the ring onto my finger. The inside is engraved with a fucking lotus flower and N X B. “Good.” He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my knuckles over the ring. “I’m supposed to be the one who proposes,” I grumble while slipping his ring onto his finger. “I hate you for beating me to this.” “You pursued me in the beginning. I had to be the one who proposed first.” I glide my hand across his nape...

“I wouldn’t have it with anyone but you.” My mouth reaches for his and I kiss him slower this time, taking my fill of him. I love this man with everything I have and don’t have. I love him with my sane and insane parts. He’s my lotus flower. My Prince Charming. The love of my life. Mine.