God of Wrath Summary, Characters and Themes

God of Wrath by Rina Kent is a dark romance novel steeped in psychological complexity, emotional turmoil, and power play dynamics.  It centers on Cecily, a seemingly quiet and morally upright student whose inner world is a battlefield of trauma, longing, and dangerous desires.

Her path crosses with Jeremy Volkov, a violent, obsessive, and dominant figure tied to the mafia elite.  The novel explores their intense, twisted relationship built on obsession, control, and emotional unraveling. Through graphic scenes and psychological confrontations, Kent pushes the boundaries of traditional romance, venturing into themes of shame, primal desire, emotional coercion, and the possibility of love in the ruins of pain.

Summary

Cecily, a British student from Royal Elite University, embarks on a dangerous undercover mission into The Heathens—a violent, secret society at The King’s U.  With her signature silver hair hidden under a brown wig and her accent masked, she infiltrates their savage initiation ritual on behalf of Landon King, the head of her own school’s elite faction.

The ritual quickly reveals itself as a twisted game of predator and prey in a dark mansion surrounded by woods.  Participants are hunted down by masked leaders, and Cecily becomes the target of the cruelest of them—Orange Mask.

Orange Mask isolates her and doesn’t just defeat her physically—he psychologically unravels her.  What she experiences in that encounter is not merely trauma but a terrifying awakening.

His dominance, voice, and relentless attention stir a forbidden craving in Cecily, one she’s ashamed to acknowledge.  After returning to her dorm physically intact but emotionally shaken, she hides the ordeal from her friends Ava and Annika.

Cecily reconnects with Landon to share her observations, only to be once again relegated to the role of “kid sister,” despite her desperate yearning for his validation.

Fuelled by a mix of humiliation and self-destructive courage, Cecily signs up for a session on a BDSM kink site frequented by Landon.  She’s matched with a mysterious partner whose style eerily resembles what she experienced with Orange Mask.

Despite the fear of revisiting her trauma, she allows herself to be guided by her desire, setting the stage for a confrontation with her inner darkness.  This shadowy encounter unearths her hidden truth—she wants the loss of control that primal domination offers, even if it terrifies her.

Later, at a party thrown by the Heathens, Cecily is drawn once more into a predatory situation.  Searching for Ava in the woods, she is ambushed, believing the masked man to be Landon, only to discover it is Jeremy Volkov—dangerous, dominant, and unpredictable.

Their encounter is brutal and consuming, laced with fear and arousal.  Cecily does not use her safe word, and Jeremy later confronts her about this choice.

He is intrigued and obsessed by her willingness to submit and her evident confusion over her own desires.

The lines between Cecily’s fantasy and reality collapse as Jeremy begins to stalk her.  His presence becomes a constant, dark force in her life, eroding her sense of safety.

Cecily doesn’t report him or flee; instead, she allows herself to be drawn into his orbit, participating in late-night visits to a secluded cottage where he exercises total control over her body and emotions.  She despises the arrangement but is also addicted to it, finding an unbearable comfort in the pain and pleasure he doles out.

Meanwhile, Jeremy’s emotional turmoil deepens.  At first, Cecily is a strategic target.

Her connection to Landon makes her a potential enemy.  But her vulnerability, her hidden cravings, and her surprising strength transform her into an obsession.

Jeremy oscillates between punishing her and protecting her, torn by his ruthless upbringing and the tenderness he is unprepared to feel.  As Cecily begins to dissociate under the weight of her trauma, Jeremy shows moments of unexpected care—holding her, staying with her through her panic attacks, and watching her sleep as if guarding a treasure he doesn’t understand.

A critical confrontation comes when Cecily catches Jeremy with another woman, Maya, a potential match arranged by his family.  Consumed with jealousy and humiliation, Cecily refuses to go to him that night.

Jeremy, enraged by what he sees as betrayal, storms into a club where he finds her dancing with strangers.  His jealousy boils over into physical domination once more, but this time the encounter is darker than ever.

Despite the brutality, Cecily cannot disentangle her body’s reactions from her heart’s desires.  She is ashamed but also emotionally tethered to him.

Their relationship hits a breaking point when Jeremy accuses Cecily of betraying him with Landon and of aiding in the arson of his mansion.  In a moment of raw violence, he nearly strangles her before pushing her away, convinced she chose another man.

Devastated and broken, Cecily disappears from his life, only to be later drugged by a coworker, Zayn, who attempts to assault her.  Jeremy arrives just in time, kills Zayn, and ensures Cecily’s safety—once again blurring the line between protector and abuser.

Cecily wakes up in the hospital, but Jeremy does not visit.  He watches her from afar, leaving her more confused and heartbroken than ever.

When they finally meet again, she demands answers, expressing her pain, fear, and love in one final confrontation.  Jeremy reveals the root of his emotional damage—his mother’s fragility, his father’s emotional distance, and his own inability to trust anyone fully.

He admits to his deep, possessive love for Cecily but warns her that he will never be soft or normal.  Cecily walks away, but it’s clear neither is done with the other.

Eventually, Jeremy follows Cecily to London.  His presence is a quiet declaration of devotion.

Though she tries to ignore him, he remains close.  In a dramatic twist, Jeremy’s friend lies to Cecily that he’s dying.

Panicked, she rushes to the airport and confesses she still loves him—truthfully, despite the lie.  Their reunion is powerful and sincere, marked by emotional transparency and physical closeness.

In the closing epilogues, Cecily learns to live with Jeremy’s darkness and finds strength in her own.  She integrates into his dangerous, unconventional world and becomes part of his life, not as a victim, but as a partner.

Jeremy, in turn, softens emotionally, expressing vulnerability and protectiveness in a way that shows growth.  Their love remains fierce and possessive, but it is now shared—built on a hard-earned understanding of trust, pain, and loyalty.

Their final promise to each other is one of enduring, if flawed, love.

Characters

Cecily

Cecily is the emotionally complex and morally conflicted heroine of God of Wrath, whose evolution is deeply tied to her confrontation with trauma, desire, and personal agency.  Initially presented as cautious, methodical, and principled, Cecily’s decision to infiltrate the Heathens’ initiation on behalf of Landon reflects her hidden hunger for control and belonging.

Despite her timid outward appearance, she is resourceful and determined, masking her vulnerability with sharp observational skills and a keen sense of self-preservation.  Her encounter with Orange Mask—and later Jeremy—forces her to confront a darker dimension of her own psyche, one steeped in primal desire and the yearning for domination.

Rather than retreating from the psychological assault she experiences, Cecily spirals deeper into it, craving the thrill of surrender while simultaneously trying to maintain emotional autonomy.  Her fascination with Jeremy evolves from fear to obsession, reflecting a fractured sense of self shaped by trauma, shame, and longing.

Cecily’s emotional entanglement with Jeremy reveals her desire to be seen, possessed, and ultimately understood—not just as a victim, but as an equal who embraces the chaos within.  Through trials of betrayal, near-assault, and emotional breakdown, she emerges with a complex sense of empowerment, not through conventional healing but by learning to live with and even find strength in her darkness.

Jeremy Volkov

Jeremy is the ruthless and enigmatic male protagonist of God of Wrath, defined by his brutality, emotional detachment, and unyielding need for control.  As a mafia heir and a dominant figure at TKU, Jeremy is feared for his cold intellect and zero-tolerance approach to disloyalty.

His initial interest in Cecily is calculated and predatory—she represents a potential threat and an emotional wildcard.  However, Jeremy’s fixation evolves into obsession as he uncovers her hidden submissive tendencies and masochistic fantasies.

What starts as a hunt becomes a psychological power play in which he aims not only to dominate her body but also her will.  Beneath his violence and coercion, Jeremy reveals layers of emotional turmoil tied to his upbringing and deep-seated abandonment issues.

His moments of vulnerability—such as his need for Cecily’s emotional proximity or his fear of betrayal—humanize him, even as his actions remain morally reprehensible.  Jeremy’s arc is not one of redemption in the traditional sense, but of emotional evolution.

He learns to temper his dominance with trust, and eventually, he redefines possession as something reciprocal rather than merely coercive.  Jeremy becomes more than a tormentor; he becomes a man who must choose between destroying the one he loves or surrendering to the terrifying intimacy of being emotionally exposed.

Landon King

Landon plays the role of the unreachable savior and catalyst in Cecily’s journey in God of Wrath.  As the leader of the Elites at REU, Landon holds immense power, and to Cecily, he initially represents safety, recognition, and perhaps a future beyond fear.

He’s emotionally distant but respectful, treating Cecily as a younger sister despite her desire for more.  His disregard for her romantic interest, though unintentional, sets Cecily on a course to prove her strength and maturity—ultimately leading her to Jeremy’s world.

Landon is the moral foil to Jeremy’s chaos, and his presence looms as a representation of the life Cecily could have had: secure, respectful, and emotionally distant.  He’s not as emotionally raw or explosively passionate as Jeremy, but his influence is profound.

Even when absent, Landon fuels Jeremy’s jealousy and Cecily’s self-doubt.  In the broader scope of the novel, Landon serves less as a romantic rival and more as a measuring stick—he embodies what Cecily believed she wanted before she realized that her desires were far more complicated and darker than she admitted to herself.

Adrian Volkov

Adrian, Jeremy’s father, is a surprising emotional anchor in the later sections of God of Wrath, bringing wisdom, regret, and generational perspective to the story.  A former mafia boss himself, Adrian’s role is largely advisory, guiding Jeremy through his inner turmoil following the near-fatal confrontation with Cecily.

In a poignant father-son dialogue, Adrian reveals his own failings and how they nearly cost him Lia, Jeremy’s mother.  Through this exchange, readers see Jeremy not just as a tyrant, but as a boy shaped by emotional scarcity and fear of abandonment.

Adrian’s calm yet pointed advice becomes instrumental in Jeremy’s transformation.  His counsel on trust, love, and emotional vulnerability provides a stark contrast to Jeremy’s otherwise violent worldview.

By reminding Jeremy of his humanity, Adrian facilitates the character shift needed for reconciliation with Cecily.  Adrian’s presence also expands the narrative’s emotional depth, showing that even the most hardened men carry scars, regrets, and hopes for redemption.

Ava and Annika

Ava and Annika, Cecily’s roommates, serve as both emotional mirrors and narrative contrasts in God of Wrath.  Ava, in particular, acts as a trigger in Cecily’s emotional arc, inadvertently exposing her fantasies and pushing her into confrontations with her own shame and desire.

Ava represents the casual recklessness of youth, unbothered by the emotional depth of Cecily’s inner world.  She brings up Cecily’s past fantasy without malice, but the impact is shattering.

Annika is less prominent but serves as part of Cecily’s constructed “normal” life—one that starts to feel increasingly alien as Cecily spirals into Jeremy’s orbit.  Both roommates embody the societal expectations and emotional simplicity that Cecily can no longer relate to, thereby emphasizing her descent into a world where pain and pleasure blur beyond recognition.

Zayn

Zayn is a minor yet crucial antagonist in God of Wrath, whose predatory behavior crystallizes the themes of consent, trauma, and victimization.  He initially presents as an unassuming coworker but is later revealed to be a predator who drugs Cecily and attempts to assault her.

Zayn’s actions are a horrifying echo of Cecily’s primal fears, pushing her to the brink of psychological collapse.  His presence in the narrative emphasizes the importance of real-world danger in contrast to consensual fantasy, highlighting the difference between chosen submission and enforced violence.

Jeremy’s brutal killing of Zayn is framed not just as vengeance but as a reclaiming of control over Cecily’s safety.  Zayn’s role, though brief, magnifies the emotional stakes and reinforces the volatile and dangerous environment Cecily must navigate.

Maya

Maya appears briefly but plays a pivotal emotional role in God of Wrath by igniting Cecily’s jealousy and insecurity.  Positioned as a potential arranged match for Jeremy, Maya becomes the embodiment of everything Cecily fears: being replaceable, inadequate, and emotionally sidelined.

Although Maya doesn’t have much direct interaction with Cecily, her symbolic presence as a possible romantic rival sends Cecily into a spiral, testing her sense of self-worth and her hold over Jeremy.  Maya’s inclusion deepens the emotional conflict, forcing Cecily to reevaluate her place in Jeremy’s life and reaffirm her agency by choosing to walk away—if only temporarily.

Together, these characters populate a narrative that is as emotionally intricate as it is morally challenging.  Their interactions form a web of obsession, trauma, emotional need, and flawed love, making God of Wrath a deeply unsettling yet compelling study of psychological entanglement.

Themes

Power, Control, and Obsession

Power in God of Wrath manifests in both overt physical dominance and deeply rooted psychological control, embodied most intensely in Jeremy Volkov.  His pursuit of Cecily is not just about desire but an assertion of superiority and emotional possession.

The initial stages of their relationship depict him as a predator, exerting control over her body through coercion masked by the illusion of consent.  As their interactions evolve, the power dynamic deepens—he doesn’t merely want to dominate her physically; he seeks to unravel and remold her inner self to align with his vision of possession.

Cecily, though outwardly submissive in moments, is not entirely powerless.  Her silence, her withholding of safe words, her choices to return—these small actions represent complex forms of resistance, defiance, and emotional manipulation in their own right.

Jeremy’s obsession intensifies as Cecily defies his expectations, both stirring his need for control and exposing his vulnerabilities.  His surveillance of her daily life, his emotional outbursts during confrontations, and his violent reassertions of authority during moments of perceived betrayal all underscore a terrifying but fascinating exploration of how obsession warps love into something predatory.

This theme is not treated with romantic idealism; instead, it shows how obsession cannibalizes mutual respect and reduces affection into a need for domination.  At the same time, it illustrates how victims of this imbalance may internalize their abuser’s fixation as attention, mistaking coercion for care.

The narrative leans heavily into this toxic entanglement, using the backdrop of mafia brutality and university elitism to heighten the consequences of unrestrained emotional and physical power.

Identity, Shame, and Sexual Awakening

Cecily’s psychological unraveling is deeply tied to her struggle with identity and the shame surrounding her sexual desires.  Her journey begins with internalized guilt about a fantasy she once casually shared—the desire to be taken without consent.

When this fantasy becomes reality in the initiation ritual and later with Jeremy, she is horrified not only by the act but by her arousal.  This tension between desire and disgust creates a schism in her self-perception.

She is neither the pristine, morally aligned girl she thought she was nor the reckless, depraved figure she fears becoming.  Jeremy acts as both mirror and catalyst, drawing out her buried instincts and forcing her to reckon with parts of herself she has long disowned.

Her shame is compounded by secrecy—she cannot admit what happened, not to friends, not even to herself in clear terms.  Yet she continues to return, pushing further into spaces that gratify these urges, as though the only path to understanding herself is through more pain and exposure.

The BDSM dynamic, especially as mediated through anonymous club encounters, becomes a stage for exploring consent, control, and identity safely—or so she believes.  But when Jeremy removes that layer of detachment, she is once again thrown into emotional chaos.

Her sexual awakening is not liberating in a traditional sense; it is confusing, destabilizing, and charged with fear.  It is a survival process—each experience with Jeremy compels her to reconstruct her sense of self, not just in terms of desire, but also strength and emotional resilience.

Trust, Betrayal, and Emotional Vulnerability

The emotional architecture of God of Wrath is built upon crumbling pillars of trust.  Cecily’s actions—sneaking into a secret ritual, lying to Jeremy, logging into the kink site in hopes of finding Landon—all expose her as someone craving intimacy but terrified of its cost.

Trust becomes a transactional gamble, constantly withdrawn and weaponized.  Jeremy’s deep-rooted suspicion, born from both familial damage and the nature of his mafia inheritance, makes him incapable of receiving love without anticipating betrayal.

Cecily’s perceived alliances with Landon, and her lies about her intentions, only deepen Jeremy’s conviction that intimacy equates to vulnerability—and therefore danger.  His violent reactions stem from this belief.

Cecily, in contrast, oscillates between wanting Jeremy to see her as worthy of trust and being repulsed by his inability to give her space to grow on her own terms.  The most emotionally devastating scenes—Jeremy’s strangling confrontation, Cecily’s dissociation in the hospital, their tearful argument in London—are all pivot points around broken trust.

Yet, beneath each betrayal lies a cry for connection.  Jeremy’s father, Adrian, becomes the narrative’s lone voice of reason, arguing that love without trust is hollow.

The story ultimately affirms this sentiment through the characters’ emotional transformations: Jeremy learning to step back, to protect without suffocating; Cecily learning to set boundaries, to demand emotional honesty.  Even if their relationship remains volatile, the evolution of their trust—cautious, grudging, and forged through trauma—becomes the foundation for their reconciliation.

Trauma, Survival, and Psychological Dependency

Cecily’s entire arc is a study in surviving trauma and how survival can sometimes masquerade as choice.  Her earliest experiences with Jeremy, whether in the forest, the initiation game, or the cottage, strip away layers of autonomy.

She’s not merely physically coerced but mentally conditioned to associate fear with attention, violence with validation.  Jeremy’s dominance fills a void left by unresolved past abuse, and over time, she begins to equate his presence with safety—even when that presence is a threat.

This psychological dependency is not accidental; Jeremy feeds it through constant surveillance, acts of protection that double as control, and moments of softness that confuse her.  Cecily’s survival instincts are sharpened, yet paradoxically dulled by repeated exposure to danger she willingly returns to.

Dissociation becomes her coping mechanism, and moments of clarity are rare but transformative.  Her confrontation with Jeremy after Zayn’s attack is one such moment—she claims her voice, her pain, and demands accountability.

Still, healing is not linear.  She remains emotionally tethered to Jeremy even after promising herself freedom.

The story doesn’t offer a clean break from trauma.  Instead, it portrays the disturbing realism of how trauma can foster attachments that feel like love but are rooted in survival.

Jeremy, too, operates from trauma—his inability to process emotional intimacy without violence suggests a boy raised in a world where survival meant dominance.  In the end, both characters are trapped not just in each other, but in the shadows of what they’ve endured, making their union one of both resilience and haunting compromise.

Love as Possession

In God of Wrath, love is rarely tender; it is possessive, primal, and often brutal.  Jeremy does not love Cecily in traditional terms.

His love is expressed through control—over her time, her body, her choices.  From the moment he decides she is “his,” his actions follow the logic of ownership: he tracks her movements, punishes perceived betrayals, and even kills for her.

Cecily, for all her internal resistance, begins to equate this obsessive devotion with meaning.  No one has ever wanted her so completely, even if that want is toxic.

Their relationship becomes a high-stakes negotiation of dominance masquerading as romance.  Emotional connection is often achieved through confrontation rather than communication.

Yet there is no doubt that both characters feel deeply—just not healthily.  Jeremy’s need to possess Cecily is less about love and more about identity; having her confirms his ability to be vulnerable without being destroyed.

Cecily, meanwhile, finds in Jeremy a reflection of the chaos she carries within.  His fixation makes her feel seen in a way that terrifies and comforts her.

Their love defies normal boundaries—it is not romantic but invasive, not healing but consuming.  And yet, despite its toxicity, the bond persists.

Their eventual reconciliation is framed not as a resolution but as a pact to co-exist with each other’s darkness.  Love, here, is not an escape—it is the thing that traps them together, a force as destructive as it is binding.