God of Malice: Chapter 39

It hurts.

That’s the first thought that comes to mind when I open my eyes—or more accurately, my eye.

The other one feels swollen and remains half-shut.

It isn’t only my flesh that aches. The pain has ripped through tendons and reached the marrow of my bones.

My tongue stays glued to the roof of my mouth, feeling big, heavy, and absolutely foreign.

I expect to find myself on the top of that cliff, but soft light greets me, followed by the very distinctive scent of amber wood. Sure enough, the impersonal wallpaper from Killian’s room slowly comes into focus.

“Glyn?” Bran’s concerned face comes into view. “How are you feeling?”

“In pain,” I groan.

“Here, have some painkillers.” He fetches a pill from the nightstand and helps me sit up to take it.

My head throbs as I swallow down the medication. Bran sits down on the bed and his movements are foggy, disconnected almost.

“I was so worried about you.” He carefully touches my arm. “Do you need anything?”

I shake my head, feeling the discomfort subside a little. “Where’s Killian?”

His expression loses all softness. “He went after the one who did this to you.”

“No…” I let out in a breath.

“Unfortunately, yes. Lan went with him, and all his club’s leaders, naturally.”

I throw off the cover and attempt to stand. Obviously, I overestimate my ability to move because I fall right back down.

Bran catches me before I hit the floor and forces me back on the bed. “What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

“I have to stop them. They’re playing right into his hands. He did this to lure both Killian and Lan out, to start a war and instigate chaos. I don’t want to be the reason for that, Bran.”

“I think it’s already too late, little princess.”

A lump catches at the back of my throat and I don’t know if I want to scream or cry.

The door opens and we both turn to find Killian standing there, one arm limp by his side. Splashes of blood cover his hand, neck, and the collar of his shirt, but his face appears clean, ethereal.

Twisted.

This is how I imagine serial killers look when they go home, completely detached, probably even elated due to satisfying their bloodlust.

He slides his bloodied fingers through his hair as if affirming the image I just had.

This is the part where I should feel scared, terrified, but my heart breaks instead.

Without the rose-colored glasses, I can clearly see where this is headed. Or maybe I did see it, but I kept lying to myself.

Upon catching sight of me, he pauses in his tracks, and a light shines in his eyes as he reaches me in a few steps.

I’ll never get used to how all-encompassing Killian’s presence is. How he’s able to eat up my attention without even trying.

When he’s close, I lose sense of anything else. My whole being flocks to him the way ravens congregate to ominous places.

Bran makes way for him and mouths that he’ll be right outside.

Killian doesn’t even seem to notice that my brother has left the room and closed the door as he sits on the bed, taking my hand in his. His thumb—bloodied thumb—strokes the back of it. His other hand remains unmoving, hanging by his side. “Do you feel better? Have you taken painkillers?”

I nod soundlessly, my chest aching with each breath I take as I whisper, “Did you kill him?”

The apparent softness disappears, letting his demons rear their ugly heads. “What if I did?”

My stomach drops and the breaking sound of my heart from earlier gets louder, deafening even. I try to pull my hand away from his, but he only tightens his fingers.

“Don’t. You know full well that I don’t like it when you slam the door in my face.”

“And you think I like it when I see you all bloody like this?”

“Did you expect me to stay still after he dared not only to touch you but to also fucking beat you?”

“No, but I thought you’d beat him, maybe, and God knows he’d deserve it, but not that you would kill him. I thought you’d think about it from my perspective. If you had, then you would’ve realized the guilt of being behind someone’s death would crush me.”

“How about my perspective then? You’re the one who keeps my demons at bay, the one who makes me look forward to new days. You’re the only red in my black-and-white world. You’re my fucking purpose, but he hurt you. He put his hands on what belongs to me. On my girl.” He wraps a hand around my throat. It’s not harsh, just enough to tell me who’s in control. “Listen to me and listen to me well, Glyndon. I spent my whole life repressing my true nature, but I’d willingly embrace my demons for you. I’d turn into the devil, a monster, and whatever weapon I have to be if it means I can protect you. You will never, ever question me about it, do you hear me?”

My chin trembles despite my attempts to lock my jaw. “So I have to watch you become inhumane and remain quiet about it?”

“When it comes to your safety, yes. Also, I didn’t kill Devlin, but he’ll sure as fuck wish for death during the months of rehab he’ll have to undergo to be functioning again.” He tsks. “And your brother took some of my fun by insisting to participate in the torture. Did I mention that I can’t stand him?”

My lips part. “You…really let Devlin live?”

“For now.”

“Why?”

“Because I plan to make his life hell. I’ll wait until he’s all recovered and beat him up again. He’ll tremble in fear at the mere mention of my name, he’ll look behind his back and have an army as security, but none of them will stop me. I’ll become his custom-made nightmare.”

My mouth becomes dry, but I still ask, “Is that all?”

He releases a long breath and strokes my throat. “I also didn’t want you to feel guilty for a life I took for your sake. Because, unlike your claims, I do think from your perspective. And I’m also well aware that if I take one life, I’ll need to feel that rush again and again, until I get caught for it. While that option might have been negotiable in the past, it’s absolutely not a possibility now since it means I’d have to leave you.”

I snort. “I don’t know if I should feel special or horrified.”

He releases my throat and tucks a stray hair behind my ear. “Definitely the first.”

“Am I special?”

“If you weren’t, would I waste my time trying to see things from your perspective? I’m not an altruistic man, never was and never will be, but you’re part of me now, so I’ll get used to thinking the way you do.”

My previously broken heart, the heart that thought Killian crossed the line and that I’d have to ask Grandpa and even Lan to lock me away from him, has been slowly reviving back to life. It’s beating harshly now, as if the rush of oxygen is too much for it to handle.

As if this is all a pipe dream.

I try to speak, but I’m so choked up that it takes me a few attempts. “Do you mean that, or are you only saying it because you know I want to hear it?”

“Quit questioning everything I say or do. It really gets on my last nerve. Yes, I’m manipulative, but not with you. I have always been direct about what I want from you.”

“And what is that?”

“You being mine. I’ll give you the world in return.”

“The world?” A tear slides down my cheek. “What defines the world to you, Kill? Because for me, it’s waking up next to the man I love and being sure that he loves me, too. I don’t know when or how it happened, but I know that I fell in love with you. So hard that it hurts to know you’ll never feel the same.”

“Who says I never will?”

“Your nature. It’s not that you don’t want to change, it’s that you genuinely can’t.”

“Don’t go putting labels on me. See, what I gather about love is that it’s noble, tender, and means if you love someone enough, you may have to let them go. Understand this, Glyndon, there’s nothing noble or tender about what I feel for you. It’s a violent volcano of obsession, possession, and deranged lust. If you want love, then I do love you, but it’s the unorthodox version of love. I love you enough to let you within my walls. I love you enough to let you talk to my demons. I love you enough to allow you to have a hold over me when I’ve never allowed anyone to have the power to destroy me from the inside out.”

My heart beats so hard, I think it’s attempting to fly out of my chest and somehow fuse with his.

This can’t be learned behavior, not when his eyes are molten lava and he looks at me with an intensity that steals my breath.

“Killian…”

“Don’t even think about doubting my words again.”

“I wasn’t… I’m just touched.”

“Of course you are. I bet you like the tidbit about how you hold power over me.”

“It’s only fair with all the power you hold over me.” I lift a hand and stroke his cheek, smiling, then wincing when my lip throbs.

He doesn’t seem to like that, considering the way his brows dip. Then he takes my hand and kisses my palm, eliciting a shudder from deep within my soul. “I promise I’ll never allow anyone to hurt you again.”

I believe him.

With the blood on his fingers and hand, it sounds more sinister, but it’s all a part of Killian. And when I fell for him, I had to take the whole package.

The good, the ugly, and the fucked-up.

“Are you sure you won’t get bored of me, after all?” I poke.

“Oh, baby. Not even after death.”

I smile because I know he means every word. “Good, because guess what?”

“What?”

I lean over and whisper, “I’m yours.”

His nostrils flare and a muscle clenches in his jaw. “Repeat that.”

“I’m yours, Killian. I think I’ve been yours since we first met.”

Wrapping my arms around his waist, I lean against his chest slowly so that I don’t trigger my injuries.

No clue where we go from here, but I’m ready for the world Killian sets at my feet.

I’m also ready to grow into the courageous girl I become when I’m with him.