Page 71 of God of War (Legacy of Gods)

He pats my hand. “I’m always here if you need a shoulder to cry on, pink princess.”

“Rude. Ladies don’t cry.”

“My offer still stands.” He chances a look behind me. “Should I leave before your husband shoots me with his eyes?”

“You know what?” I wrap my arms around his neck. “Play a game with me?”

“Always.”

Maybe this is my chance to watch Eli lose control for once in his life.

Just once.

Because of me.

I angle my head as if I’m about to kiss him. I don’t even get on my tiptoes properly before harsh fingers dig into my waist and I’m hauled back with a force that leaves me breathless.

My back slams against Eli’s harsh chest, and I swear I can hear the animalistic breaths rumbling behind me, but when he speaks, it’s annoyingly, disappointingly calm. “Forgot something, Mr. Elliot?”

“Not really.”

“Think again, because I can see your soul leaving your miserable body the next time you put your hands on my wife.”

“I meant no disrespect.”

“On the contrary.”

Vance pauses, his eyes squinting, but then he nods at me before he silently takes the stairs, leaving me in the company of a dangerously boiling Eli.

I steal a glance at my husband. His nostrils flare, his eyes narrow, and his face closes off with a speed that prickles my skin.

I know I was playing a little game to ruffle his feathers and provoke him, but I’m beginning to regret it big time.

My intuition is proved right when he brushes his lips to my ear and whispers in dark words, “You’re so fucked, Mrs. King.”

12

AVA

With a stroke of luck—the luck being a passing waitress who looks like she’d get on her knees and beg Eli for forgiveness for walking by at that moment—I manage to escape to our table unscathed.

Mostly.

That is, if I don’t count my heavy heart and my shaky feet that barely carry me.

“No world war happened?” Creigh tips his glass to his mouth once I sit down. “I’m surprised.”

“My Tchaikovsky.” Anni grimaces after using her favorite composer as God’s substitute. “I love you, Ava, but you tend to be quite…impulsive.”

“Suicidal is the actual word you’re looking for,” Creigh says with his usual poker face.

“Stop adding petrol to the fire.” I huff.

“You’re doing that on your own just fine.”

“Well, your brother needs to learn that he doesn’townme.”

“Repeat that.” Eli’s rough voice lowers with a threatening edge as he sits beside me, his presence confiscating all available air.

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