Characters With A God Complex Novels & Stories

“I see. We need another plan, then. Isn’t there anything else you can tell me about the One True God? Isn’t there something he’s afraid of? Something he’s told you never to bring near him?” I was clutching at straws, but maybe he had his kryptonite. That would certainly make things easier. A magic dagger, an aversion to salt, an allergy to garlic. Big powerful, unbeatable bosses always had a vulnerability so you could beat them, because everyone wants you to beat them. It makes people all fuzzy inside to overcome impossible odds. “He is a god. Only he can choose to let himself be beaten. You cannot make him leave this place if he doesn’t want to.”

This is the most ridiculous question he ever heard about him as a God of war. “What? Why do I want to do that? I’m a god of war, not an idiot god who has a screw loose in the head like those evil gods such as the god of slaughter, the god of the massacre. Hell, even they didn’t have a self-destructive tendency to destroy themselves and their followers by putting themselves in conflict with a strong god who they fully knew could kill them with one slap. Do I look like a masochist to you?” Mars asks back with a face that has the word “What the hell are you talking about?” over all of his faces.

“You are the bride of a god.” Her breath caught. “Bride… of a god?” Her fingers tightened around the ring. “What bride?What God” She has never met any God let alone to consent to any marriage. Wait he couldn’t possibly mean his bride right? She gasped as it dawned on her she was referring to himself. So he is a God? Ivana stood there confused as several thoughts flooded her mind. “Yes, mortal.” His eyes bore into her. “And being bound to you…” His jaw clenched. “Only deepens my hatred for humans.”

I turned around and slide down the length of the door and when I finally felt the floor support me I became sitting with my head against my knees pressed up against my only way out. 'What interest would a god have in me? What interest would Enosos have in me? He was the god of seduction, he could have anyone and yet he has demanded me since I was nothing more then an innocent child. How could I be his? How could he claim that power over me?'

“Since you’re such good friends with the Islanders… “I’ll have you killed with their sword then.” “Kill me?” Vince York looked around him and saw Grandma York boiling with anger, Marcel York remaining calm, and the agitated faces of Selena Judd along with the members of the head and second house. Then, he squinted at Harvey and replied, “You must be mistaken, Harvey. “They say that I’m just a God of War because of drugs… “But, there’s something that they don’t get. Once a God of War, always a God of War!

James admitted. “I love the feel of a classic. It’s all mechanical keyboards for me,” Tres said, shutting he computer back down. James paused. “Let me guess. You’re descended from Hephaestus, right?” “Right you are, bro. It’s not that big a deal though. Everyone here is descended from a god at one point or another. It’s not like we go around claiming allegiance and all that as if we were living out a Percy Jackson book or something. Like with me, mostly you can only tell which divine ancestry someone has from their interests and hobbies and skills and what not.” Tres laughed loudly. “My mom, she grew up Catholic. She totally freaked when my dad spilled the beans after they got married. Dad s

He smirked, lifting an eyebrow. “Could say the same for you. Why are you shocked a guy isn’t a dickhead?” I shrugged, I didn’t know. Clearly my taste in men had been terrible up until that point. I don’t think I had ever met anybody like Dimitri. Beautiful, funny, caring and powerful. Yum, yum my type.

It was the beginning of something new. I was no longer someone’s wife or shadow. I was the Godmother of the mafia families, Xavier’s mother, Kane’s beloved, and most importantly, I was myself. A year later, in a port city in Eustona, someone spotted a familiar figure. The man was ragged, limping on one leg. When he looked up, his face was covered in scars and humiliation. It was James. He saw me and instantly looked away in terror, ducking into the crowd like a rat scurrying across the street.

A cathedral of pain masquerading as discipline. And at its heart, a table. Not for feast. Not for audience. But set with a single silver parchment. A contract. Velis stood beside it, silent and still, like a shadow made flesh. No armor now—no crown, no mask. Just tailored black, the shirt unbuttoned to the sternum, exposing a chest carved with centuries of war and pleasure both. He looked like a relic. A sin turned saint. A god that never forgot how to bleed. His eyes, twin embers of restrained hunger, flicked to Caelum’s awakening form. And then—he smiled.

The cold water hit my skin but all I could feel was the heat building inside me. In the dream, I pulled out, flipped him over with his face down on the bed. Ass up. His shorts ripped away and skin bare. I spread his cheeks, licked him there and his moans filled the room. "Please," he begged. "Kieran... my god..." Yes. God. I was his God. I fucked my fist faster, water streaming down my chest an back. I leaned against the tile. Head tipped up. Moaned his name low. "Ezra..."