God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(29)

Elsa Steel King is the epitome of an elegant woman. Nude-colored lips, shiny blonde hair gathered in a neat ponytail, and a face that’s both beautiful and wise.

“Creigh!” she cries with her hand still at her chest. “Oh my, have you been asleep?”

“Yes, and your insolent son woke me up.”

Eli elbows me. “I was only looking out for his sleeping schedule, Mum. This punk sleeps more hours than is considered healthy, suffers from serious Sleeping Beauty syndrome, aka narcolepsy, and is prone to skip class because of it.”

“Still have perfect scores.”

“Still sleep in class so often that my professors tell me about it. Don’t go tainting my reputation.”

“And you think you have a good one?”

“At least people actually know me.”

“And that’s positive because…”

“Boys!” Mum chuckles from the other end of the phone. “Have you called me to bicker? And leave your brother alone, Eli. As long as he studies, it’s all fine.”

I raise a brow in his direction.

Hear that, fucker?

“Stop spoiling him rotten, Mum. This is why you only FaceTime him once in a year or if your favorite son, aka me, plans a surprise and wakes him up from hibernation. Where’s my thank-you?”

“Outside.” I grab the phone from his hand and bring it closer so that I’m the only one in the frame. “Mum and I don’t need to speak every day to have a connection.”

“That’s right.” She smiles, her eyes sliding all over my face with veiled desperation. “I just miss you so much, Creigh.”

“Miss you, too, Mum.”

“What’s with all the sappiness? You’re acting like it’s been years since you last met, when the fact is, we visited home a month ago.” Eli snatches his phone back so that he’s front and center of the screen.

“I still miss you boys every day.” She releases a long sigh. “I miss the nights when I used to tuck you in bed and tell you stories.”

“We can recreate that, say on our next visit home. One condition, though.” Eli grins. “Kick Dad out first.”

“I’ll be kicking you outside the solar system, punk.” Dad strolls inside the room, appearing in the frame behind Mum.

The phone shakes in her hold as she slightly turns around to look at him. Her expression radiates and her features brighten with a rosy emotion.

Love.

A feeling Mum has been trying, and failing, to instill in both me and my brother for years.

My father sits on the armrest of Mum’s chair and wraps a possessive arm around her shoulder.

Aiden King is everything his last name exemplifies—a monarch with a ruthless iron grip, the media’s notorious devil, and the love of Mum’s life.

He’s tall, dark, handsome, and absolutely merciless with anyone who crosses him—or us.

Since we were kids, Dad has taught us to prevent others from stepping on us and unintentionally, or intentionally, made us as cutthroat as he is.

Eli inherited more than just his personality. He has his black hair, dark gray eyes, and similar facial features—a fact that Mum secretly loves but is openly jealous of, complaining that her eldest looks nothing like her.

“Hi, Dad.” Eli’s eyes shine with the promise of a challenge. He’s always been in some sort of weird rivalry with our father. “I called Mum so we could have her all to ourselves.”

“Not even if you’re reincarnated ten times in a row.”

Mum laughs, strokes Dad’s hand that’s on her shoulder, and looks at Eli. “Really, now. Stop antagonizing your father. You’re so bad.”

“Hear that, Dad? I’m bad. Probably worse than you, huh?”

“Not even close.” Dad tilts his head to look at me. “Look who we have here.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Is everything okay with you, son?”

I nod, and Mum tells him that I’ve been getting perfect scores, completely omitting the part about how I sleep in most classes and don’t attend the other half.

That’s what mothers do. They play the role of a bridge, a mediator.

An anchor.

Or at least, Mum does.

That can’t be said about my other mother.

“I’m glad you could pop in, Creigh,” Dad says. “You, too, Eli.”

My brother points a thumb at himself. “Creighton’s rare appearance is all thanks to me. Besides, we both miss Mum.”

“And Dad,” I finish, earning a rare smile from my father.

He completely ignores Eli’s attempts to rile him. After a few more minutes of catching up, he decides we’ve had enough of Mum’s time and ends the call.

As soon as the screen goes black, I kick Eli in the ribs, sending him flying to the other side of the bed.

Once I have enough room, I lie back down with a palm beneath my nape and close my eyes.

A petite brunette with an infuriating mouth barges into my mind.

Or more like the images of the red handprints I left on her arse do. All bright against that pale skin that’s begging to be marked and bruised and owned.

That was two days ago.

And she’s tactfully avoided me for as long. Always making sure we’re in a group, as if she’s scared I’ll pounce on her.