God of Pain (Legacy of Gods #2)(54)

I grab her by the nape and pull her toward me in one swift go. Her back crashes against my chest with a thud and the scent of violets fills my nostrils.

A shudder slashes through her body and seeps into my system. No clue how I manage not to tighten my fingers around her neck and give her a red necklace.

Annika must feel the darkness radiating off me. Her pupils dilate and her fuckable lips part in clear invitation.

She goes still in my hold, and I’m addicted to the way her inner submissive knows when to lay low and not provoke me further.

It’s probably her survival instinct, too, because she knows this won’t end well for her.

I catch a glimpse of both Cecily and Brandon joining us, drinks in hand.

“Spawn!” Remi shouts over the music. “You made it! Wait, you willingly came here without me having to hound the fuck out of you? Who are you and what have you done with my favorite spawn?”

“OMG!” Ava holds her hands together, completely ignoring Remi’s speech. “You’re here because of Anni! This is too surreal to wrap my mind around. I can’t believe the traitor was totally keeping us in the dark about your relationship. I’m so wounded.”

“Yeah,” Cecily supplies. “She’s been ignoring us and changing the subject so we wouldn’t bug her for answers.”

“Right? I mean, what’s there to hide? They already went on a date! He even called her his in front of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named. Right, Bran?”

“Yeah,” he agrees. “I was there at the fight club and personally heard it.”

“Hold on. What in the actual fuck?” Remi gets in my face. “A date? You went on a date and didn’t tell me? And what’s with the ownership declaration when I wasn’t there? How am I your mentor if you don’t come to me in times like these? And I’m the last one to know? You bitches have conspired to kill me young, haven’t you?”

“We haven’t gone on a date,” I say.

Annika flinches in my hold, but she forces one of her loathsome fake smiles. “Yeah, it’s not what you guys think. No date.”

“Not one date. Dates.”

Everyone stares at me, dumbfounded, Annika included. The whole scene draws attention to us, considering we’re the only unmoving ones in the midst of the unfolding chaos.

“Wait. Dates?” Ava all but shouts.

“Plural, yes.” I stroke my fingers over Annika’s heated skin and stare between Remi and Bran. “She’s mine. If I find out either of you touched her, prepare to lose a limb.”

Then I spin her around and my mouth claims hers in a savage kiss. My arms envelop her waist like a shackle, preventing her from escaping my possessive hold. All she can do is gasp, open up, and let me feast on her.

She sways on her feet when I release her lips and I drag her out of the club while the other four stand there in stunned silence.

Annika keeps up with my steps, her expression still caught in complete bewilderment.

“Uh, are you sure that was a good idea—”

“If you’re in the mood to be able to sit at all tomorrow, shut the fuck up.”

Her lips purse and a tinge of both fear and thrill seep into her eyes.

It should only be fear at this point, because my plans for her exceed anything I’ve done before.





18





ANNIKA





This night is the definition of chaos.

It started with me being a little mad.

Well, not mad—upset. A little bit sad, too.

So I went to the club because I was trying my hardest to stop being so upset.

Did it work?

Partially. Okay, no, it didn’t. Not really.

My mood became gloomier after the text exchange, but I danced and drank to forget about it. The icing on the cake was Creighton actually showing up to a club—shocker, I know—to stake a claim on me in public. Again.

My lips still tingle from his punishing kiss, from the way he devoured me whole and left me no room to breathe.

Or think straight.

Or remember that I’m actually slightly wounded by him.

After he gave me coffee to sober up, the car ride has been spent in utter silence. Every time I’ve tried to speak, he casts me a glare, and if I insist, he adds to the ‘punishments’ count.

He reached four before I gave up, crossed my arms, and stared out the window.

Because screw him.

He’s the reason I’ve been in this mood and even needed a venting outlet. I’m simply not going to feel bad about that.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been in Creigh’s Range Rover. He used to drive a Porsche, but a week ago, I complained that it was too small when he told me to sit on his lap, so he changed it two days later.

When I asked him if he had anything to tell me, like maybe he did it for me, the heartless idiot only said, “It’s nothing. This is an old gift from my favorite grandfather, Agnus.”

On good days, Creighton is cold, but on bad days, like today, he’s no different than the ice of the Arctic Ocean.

The car slows to a halt in front of a giant mansion’s gate that resembles my brother’s.

This is the first time I’ve been here, but I can already tell it’s the Elites’ compound.

The black metal gates open and Creighton drives inside, passing a well-manicured lawn until we reach the circular driveway.