DRAMA NOVEL ONLINE God of Malice: Chapter 13
Something moves between my legs and I mumble a whine.
It thickens and I startle awake. At first, I’m disoriented, my mind foggy with sleep and my response slower than a vintage train.
But I don’t get to react.
A shadow looms over me, large and threatening. He pulls my legs apart with a strong hand and I open my mouth to shriek, but he slams a palm over it.
Terror courses through me and I begin to hyperventilate. My heart thunders to life with frightening intensity.
I scream, but the only sound that comes out is a haunted muffled noise.
He expertly removes my knickers and I try kicking my legs, but he slaps them, forcing me to remain in place. His finger traces my folds and I close my eyes with shame.
“Mmm. I knew you’d be soaking wet, baby. Were you fantasizing about how I’d come through the window and deflower this tight little cunt?”
I shake my head, but I can hardly move it due to his brute strength. God, I can’t believe I’m being turned on by being ambushed.
By Killian.
The psycho Killian.
The monster Killian.
The predator Killian, who’ll eat me alive and scatter my bones in that firefly lake.
With the lack of light, his face is a huge shadow that’s able to devour me in mere seconds.
“You’re messing up my fingers and you still dare to lie to me?” His voice darkens, becoming one with the night. “Maybe you’ll stop the lies when I’m pounding this cunt. You won’t have the chance to lie when your blood is smeared all over my cock. You might be screaming, though, but guess what? No one will hear you.”
He positions himself between my legs and chuckles, the sound low and absolutely terrifying. “Look at you dripping onto the mattress at the promise of being deflowered like a dirty little whore instead of an innocent virgin. Deep down, you like this, don’t you? You want to be forced to lose control. That way, you’d be comforted by the fact that you didn’t agree to this. It’s your mind’s way of assuming you’re not the twisted one who actually fantasizes about this. It’s fine, though. I’ll be your villain, baby.”
My eyes widen. How the hell does he know about those fantasies? I didn’t even talk about them to my closest friends—not even my therapist.
“Mmm. You’re grinding against my fingers again. I like it when you’re horny for me.” His voice lowers. “But only me. No one will see this erotic version of you. Isn’t that right, baby?”
I freeze when I realize that I am in fact sliding up and down against his fingers, reaching for a forbidden type of friction.
No, no…
I seal my eyes shut and breathe heavily, internally chanting.
This is a nightmare, only a nightmare, breathe, inhale, exhale, don’t let it consume you…
The weight that’s been trapping me slowly disappears and the smell of wood and amber vanishes as well.
A murmur of voices follow, but I release a breath. It’s a nightmare. I’m fine.
It’s fine.
“Is she really asleep?” Bran’s voice.
I frown. He shouldn’t be in my nightmares.
“Yeah,” Cecily whispers back. “You know, she barely sleeps lately and keeps staring or dreaming awake or something. It was becoming really bad until…well, maybe a few days ago. She’s constantly looking over her shoulder, but she’s not zoned out.”
“I’ve been worried sick. You have no idea,” Ava says.
“Keep it down or she’ll wake up,” Cecily whisper-yells. “It’s already a miracle that she’s sleeping.”
“Are you hiding it from her?” Bran sounds a bit distant, a bit hard, not like the Bran I know.
“Yeah, rest assured, she won’t find that filth.”
Their voices drift into one another, mixing, becoming an echo, like a giant speaker from far away.
Trepidation trickles down my spine. What’s the filth Cecily mentioned?
And is this really a nightmare?
I can’t concentrate during class, in the studio, or even when I talk to Dr. Ferrell on the phone.
Somehow, I can’t figure out if that nightmare was real or not. Ava and Cecily said they went to sleep right after they kicked Remi and the others out, so maybe it wasn’t?
I did wake up with my underwear soaked, though. Real or not, I shouldn’t be aroused at the prospect of being raped.
Just what the hell is wrong with me?
Maybe the Killian from the nightmare, as terrifying as he was, is right, and I’m secretly into that?
No, nope. I’m simply not going there.
“Can you believe it?”
I lift my head at Annika’s voice. It’s the middle of the day, and we’re sitting near the fountain with two sculpted angels pouring water into it. The plan was to soak in the sun, but it’s currently playing hide-and-seek behind the clouds, so every now and then, a shadow interrupts the warmth.
Students buzz around us, dressed in all sorts of styles with their hair as colorful as the rainbow. Annika and I are probably the only ones who haven’t dyed our hair.
I let my red marker draw absentmindedly on my pad and eat my sandwich with my free hand. I’m shit at having actual meals, and Mum will lecture me for a year if she finds out I’m surviving on sandwiches and burgers and anything where I don’t have to put in any effort.
Annika has a whole food container. It’s filled with salad and other healthy stuff, but it looks as aesthetic as her. Even her fork and knife are purple.
She finishes chewing on her bite of food and thrusts her phone in my face. It’s on IG’s search, Creighton King.
A few accounts appear, but none of them belong to my cousin.
“He really has no social media. Like none. It’s the same for all other platforms.”
“He’s not big on those.”
“Is he a caveman? I’m ready to believe that he time-traveled from the past over the fact that he has no social media.”
“Honestly? He might as well be.”
She inches closer. “What else can you tell me about him?”
“Why are you asking?” I give her a knowing look.
“Don’t give me that. I just think he’s awfully Ice Age in mentality and it’s my job to bring him to modern times.”
“Remi’s doing that just fine. He’s the extrovert who adopted him, so he’s like Creigh’s surrogate father.”
“He’s too hopeless and needs two extroverts adopting him. Why is he so…silent? No matter how many questions I asked him, he flat out ignored me.”
“He’s not really talkative. You see him but don’t hear him.”
“Aww, that’s just sad.”
“Being quiet isn’t sad, Anni. Some of us just…prefer silence.”
“Are you saying I’m being too loud?”
“No. Well, a little.” I sigh. “But I’m used to it from Ava, so you can talk all you want.”
“Wow. I’m honored. I can’t believe I’m being shamed for being energetic.”
“Well, you were just shaming Cray Cray for being quiet.”
“Aww, you guys call him Cray Cray? That’s so cute for someone so hot.”
I grin. “You think my cousin is hot?”
“Well, of course he is. Are you blind?”
“You’re so straightforward. Go for it, girl.”
She lets out a long sigh, then eats a bite of her salad. “I can only admire from afar. Unless I want the person I admire to be killed by my brother and father. Besides, my marriage is probably already decided. So I’m just living life for as long as I can.”
“I’m sorry, Anni.” Being a mafia princess must be a lot of pressure, too. Just different from the type our family names and our parents’ accomplishments put on us.
She throws up a dismissive hand. “I’ll think about that when the time comes. Now, I’ll just be a normal college student.”
“You should probably stay away from Creigh, though. He is really as you saw yesterday. There’s no hidden door or a secret path.”
A gleam of mischief passes through her eyes. “Or that’s what you think. There’s always something to discover.”
“What if you’re disappointed by what you discover? What if it’s way different from what you bargained for?” Not sure if I’m asking for her or someone else.
“That’s what makes it even more fun!”
“Suit yourself.”
“Can you invite them over later? Or wait, I can ask Remi.” She types a message in a conversation that seems so long. Wow. Did these two start talking only yesterday? That’s basically the length of my conversations with people I’ve known all my life.
Anni pauses mid-typing, her expression falling. “I forgot that I have to stay with Jer tonight.”
“Jeremy willingly invited you over? I thought he was actively keeping you away from his club.”
“He is, but this time is different. He needs to keep an eye on me within the mansion they live in because Papa’s guards have full access there.”
“What’s going to happen tonight?”
She searches her surroundings. “The Heathens’ initiation ceremony. It happens, like, twice a year. They did a mockup at the end of the previous semester and the attendance was huge. It’s brutal as hell, let me tell you.”
My fingers shake at the mention of Jeremy’s friends and I force them back into stillness.
Of course Killian will be the first in line for anything brutal.
“How brutal are we talking about?”
“Whatever you can’t imagine. Just leave your life and dignity at the door if you want to get into this. You also need to receive the invitation text, or you can forget it.”
“So they choose their potential members?”
“Of course they do. Otherwise, they’d be wasting their time with weaklings. It’s why most participants are the toughest ones from The King’s U. I heard they’re sending a few invitations to REU students this year, but that’s probably so the Heathens can use them as spies. Not sure.”
“Does it get dangerous?”
“I’m sure it does. The original members would wear these neon purge mask things and terrorize the potential members so that only the strong remained. I heard that some student drove himself off a cliff after the last initiation.”
The half-eaten sandwich remains suspended near my mouth as blood drains from my face. “W-what did you just say?”
Annika is completely oblivious to my state and digs her fork in her salad, the sound heightened in my overly simulated head.
“Not sure what happened, but I heard he almost got into the club, but didn’t, and the next day, he drove off a cliff. They ruled it as a suicide, but you never know with these things. Like it’s so easy to disguise death as anything when you have the right resources. Maybe they killed him, maybe they played with his brakes, or maybe it was just suicide. You can’t dismiss any option… Oh my God, why are you crying?”
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand. Annika gets close and pats my shoulder. “Are you okay? Did you actually know him?”
Slowly, I nod. “He was my friend.”
Her expression morphs to one of horror before she winces. “I’m so sorry, Glyn.”
“You don’t have to be.” But the people who made him drive off that cliff should be.
I always wondered what made Devlin take that drastic decision, but now that I know he was part of some satanic club’s initiation, it all makes sense.
Hidden hands pushed him off that cliff.
And maybe finding out exactly who’s behind his death will finally give me the closure I’ve been searching for.
But how on earth will I be able to get an invitation?
A shadow falls over us, bigger than the casual cloud. The scent is enough to know who’s behind it, and I stare up at Killian.
The sun casts a bright shadow on his face and dark hair that appears bluish under the light. The hard contours of his face mesh in a symphony of physical supremacy. And his black trousers and shirt only add to his immortal charisma.
I hate how beautiful he looks, but what I hate the most is the booming flutter in my chest upon seeing him.
Or the memory of his fingers between my legs.
Or how wet I was.
No, nope. Not the right thought to have in front of a monster who smells such emotions from a planet away.
Gathering my wits, I ask, “What are you doing here?”
“It almost sounds as if you don’t want me here.”
“Wow, am I that obvious?”
He narrows his eyes, “I can get any access card I want.” Then he slides his attention to Annika. “Time to go, princess.”
She stiffened as soon as he showed up, probably because of his relationship with her brother. “I have classes this afternoon.”
“That you won’t attend.”
“Ugh.” She glares up at him. “And why did you come to fetch me?”
“Volunteered.” He grins down at me and I wish I could become one with the ground. “I can let you stay here for a bit more if you invite me to your little picnic.”
“You can stay—”
Annika hasn’t even finished her sentence before Killian physically barges between us and steals an olive from her.
“Is that a homage to me? It’s even red.” He points at what I’ve been sketching—an unfinished portrait.
I slam my sketchbook shut. “Not everything in this life is about you.”
“Not in this life, no. But your life? Debatable.”
“I’m just…” I start to mumble an excuse to leave.
“Don’t be a killjoy.” He waves in Annika’s direction. “She only has whatever time I allow her, and then she’s coming with me to be imprisoned in her ivory tower for the night. You have it in you to cut that little time off?”
I purse my lips, then reluctantly stay. This isn’t for the bastard. It’s for Annika, who’s already looking miserable, her shoulders hunched and her movements sluggish.
“Can’t she stay in the dorm with us tonight?” I ask.
“No can do.”
“You guys are dictators.”
A lazy grin lifts his lips. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, the worst ever. Might want to check your ego with a shrink. I can refer you to mine if you want.”
He hums, the sound low in his throat. “You have a shrink?”
The question is innocent enough, but it makes me realize that I’ve divulged too much information.
Maybe he thinks I’m crazy. Maybe he’s one of those ignorant people who thinks a shrink equals a psych ward.
Not that I care.
Jesus.
I lift my chin. “Yeah, I do.”
“Refer me.”
I stare at him for a second too long. Doubtful doesn’t even begin to explain my emotions. “Are you for real?”
“Have I ever lied to you?”
“Countless times.”
“That wasn’t lying. I was giving you choices. Not my fault you go for the hard ones.” He nudges my shoulder with his, and I swear I nearly catch fire where he touches me. “I’m serious about the referral.”
“You would willingly go to a shrink?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
Because he’s too assertive in his sick ways, that’s why. People who go to shrinks hope to become better, but I’m pretty sure Killian thinks this is the best version of himself.
“You realize you’re sick and need therapy?” I try to take a jab at him.
“No, I just want to see the face of the person you tell your deepest, darkest secrets to.”
Of course the bastard just wants to get on my nerves.
“Why are those weirdos watching you like creeps?” Anni interrupts our intense eye contact, and I break it to focus on where she’s tilting her head.
I groan. “Never mind them. I’m not really liked in my class because they think I get preferential treatment for who my mum is. Even my professor likes to criticize me more than he does them. So I’ve just gotten used to it.”
Killian hums for a beat, then stares at me. “What’s the name of the professor?”
“Skies. Why are you asking?”
“Just curious.” He smiles and if I were to see him on TV for the first time, I’d find him charming, crushworthy even, but unfortunately, I know what hides beneath that smile too well. “By the way, you should go to sleep early tonight. No roaming in weird places.”
“What are you now, my father?”
“Shouldn’t that be frowned upon in your moral code, considering I plan to fuck you?”
I choke on my own spit and Annika grins like an idiot. “Never mind me, guys. Think of me as a wallflower.”
Killian doesn’t seem to notice she exists in the first place.
“I mean it. No going out.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “Be good.”
A shudder goes through me. I can’t help it. I really, really can’t help it and I hate how vulnerable this makes me feel.
Even as I pull away from him. As I stare at the distance and try to ignore him.
But he uses Annika to make me talk, and he asks all sorts of questions about uni and art and my professors. Whenever I refuse to answer, he starts being a wanker.
It’s scary how fast he can flip from the amicable version of himself to the insufferable one.
When Jeremy calls him, he finally takes Annika and stands.
“Behave,” he whispers against my forehead before planting a chaste kiss there that makes my toes curl.
My phone vibrates and I try to gather my bearings as Annika gives me a sad hug and says she’ll miss us tonight.
Then she turns and leaves with Killian.
I release the breath I’ve been holding since he showed up and fish out my phone to find a text.
Heathens: Congratulations! You are invited to the Heathens’ initiation ceremony. Please show the attached QR code upon arrival to the club’s compound at four p.m. sharp.