Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3)

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Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3) Page 10

by Stacey Brutger


  The rest of the team came to stand around them, shielding the two of them from inquisitive eyes. Only when the spell released its grip on Morgan and she sagged against him did his hound stop digging frantically through his insides, desperately trying to tear its way out of him to protect her.

  And he was helpless to do anything.

  The little twit had agreed to an impossible hunt—a Wild Hunt.

  He inhaled deeply, his resolve firming…he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.

  When Morgan leaned against him for comfort, everything inside of him stilled, the wildness calming at her touch. She brought him peace. After he was forced into servitude, nothing more than a lowly slave, Morgan had become his sole reason for living. He’d followed her to the Academy and watched the other guys fall under her sway so fast it was almost comical.

  Morgan was what made them a family.

  Without her, they were nothing more than hunters.

  She made them the best. Not just to prove themselves to her—they needed to be the best to face and shelter from what was coming for her.

  He kissed the top of her head, slowly pulling her closer, and met the gazes of the guys above her head, seeing his resolve reflected back at him.

  They were in complete agreement—nothing would harm Morgan.

  Chapter Ten

  A few of the more inquisitive students pushed forward, their sharp gazes leaving her feeling exposed. As if sensing her unease, Ryder gave a rumbling growl that sent the wolves bounding between the two groups, nipping at those who edged too close.

  She pressed his hand against his lower back, grateful for his protection.

  Ryder was glaring after the queen and her entourage, and for half a second Morgan wondered if she should be jealous—but it wasn’t lust on his face. It was pure, unadulterated rage, and she grabbed his arm, afraid he might act on it.

  Instead of ducking his head, ashamed of his background, like he would’ve when she first arrived, he inhaled, his shoulders becoming broader, his back straighter, a sentinel between her and the dangers of the worlds.

  The moment broke when the men formed a protective circle around her, and Morgan didn’t need any urging to rush back through the large doors of the Academy. She raced through the halls like the hounds of hell were nipping at her heels, already bracing herself for their scolding.

  Three.

  Two.

  One.

  “What the hell were you thinking exposing your secret to everyone?” Atlas’s voice was harsh, reminding her that the others hadn’t been aware of the horrible truth.

  The worst had already happened—the king knew.

  “You had no right to risk your life for mine.” Draven grabbed her arm roughly, swinging her around to face him, and she nearly decked him.

  “I have every right. Don’t you dare tell me otherwise.” She shrugged out of his hold, almost too furious to speak. “I believe what you meant to say is thank you.”

  “I—”

  “No, you don’t get to speak now. Not until I’m ready.” She cut him off, not wanting to hear his explanations. More lies would only twist the blade deeper. She had to focus on saving his ass first. She glanced out one of the windows, quickly measuring how much time she had left. “By my guess, I have only a few hours to put together a plan.”

  When she glanced back down the hall, she nearly slammed into Kincade and Ascher. They were blocking the hall in front of her, neatly cutting off her escape.

  “You’re not going alone.” Kincade stood with his arms crossed, the hardness in his green eyes uncompromising—an imposing warrior who was determined to protect what he considered his no matter the cost.

  Fools.

  “I’m better able to protect myself when I don’t have to worry about anyone else.” She tried to dart around them when Ascher casually lifted his arm and blocked the way.

  “I beg to disagree.” He ducked his head lower, gently lifting her chin until it felt like only the two of them existed. “I’ve covered your back more than once. We make a good team.”

  The rough tone of his voice lured her closer, the warm smell of charcoal and fire inviting her to lean against him.

  “I trust you with my life.” It took everything in her to pull back and not give into temptation. “But that doesn’t mean I’m willing to put yours at risk.”

  She ducked under his arm, tired of their yapping.

  Nothing they said would change her mind.

  Nothing was worth the risk of losing them.

  “You can either take us with you…or we’ll just follow you.” Ryder spoke calmly, not the least bit fazed by anything she said, his long legs allowing him to catch up with her easily. And it wasn’t an idle threat either. Thanks to the mating marks, she was basically LoJacked. She could hide for short periods of time, but they would find her eventually.

  Instead of looking at her, Ryder kept his attention straight ahead, his stern expression doing little to detract from his stunning good looks.

  He glanced at her out of the corner of his eyes when her pace slowed. “You were planning to sneak out.”

  “Was not,” she muttered.

  There was no planning about it.

  He raised a brow at her, not in the least bit fooled. “They plan to use us to lure you out. It’s better to stick together so we can protect each other.”

  Morgan didn’t bother to smother her curses. She picked up her pace, wishing she could outrun her chaotic thoughts as easily. “That was a low blow.”

  “But true.” He turned away, undaunted by the anger that continued to smolder in her gut.

  She glanced back at the others, a bit surprised by their silence. Kincade only raised a brow at her, Atlas scowled, Draven couldn’t meet her gaze, while Ascher just shrugged. When she continued staring at him, knowing he would tell her the truth, he finally sighed and relented. “Ryder didn’t lie to you. He’s incapable of it, and you know it. You’re also incapable of taking your anger out on him, which is why we sent him to deliver the message.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, then snapped it shut.

  It was hard to argue with them when they were right. She scowled, then turned away and proceeded to ignore them anyway. She took the next right, then stopped outside the door of her former mentor…MacGregor.

  She knocked briskly, then shoved open the door at the command to enter.

  MacGregor peered over the book he was reading, took one look at her, then pulled off his glasses and carefully set them both on his desk. “What trouble did you get yourself into this time?”

  “A Wild Hunt.” Kincade barged into the room after her and inserted himself into the conversation.

  “How long?” MacGregor barked out his question.

  “Three days.” Atlas strode into the room, then stationed himself in the corner to observe the action. Ascher strolled in next, calmly taking a seat in front of the desk as if he’d been invited, followed by Ryder, who lingered in the doorway. He wasn’t blocking the door per se, more making sure that she didn’t leave without him.

  MacGregor grunted, shaking his head in complete bafflement at her predicament before he turned his sharp, faded blue eyes onto her. “I won’t even ask how you manage to get yourself into such things. Since you were a child, you’ve always had the unique ability to create chaos around you without even trying.”

  Instead of being disappointed, pride lingered in his voice, shocking her.

  “But—”

  “I’ve learned not to question things that involve you. Fate has a way of putting you where it needs you most. Who am I to argue with that?”

  Draven edged past Ryder and slid into the last chair in front of the massive desk that took up the majority of the room. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, a defeated slump to his shoulders. “It’s my fault. I got her into this mess.”

  Morgan wanted to smack him as he threw himself to the wolves.

  MacGregor snorted, humor lighting up his face as
he chuckled. “I seriously doubt that you made my girl do anything she didn’t want to do.”

  Kincade rubbed a hand over the lower half of his face, not completely smothering his grin, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes at him.

  MacGregor’s face hardened, the commander back in control, and he turned toward her. “How many will you be up against?”

  “Uncertain.” She fidgeted at his exasperated sigh, and she shrugged. “Less than an army, but only because she doesn’t have one on hand.”

  MacGregor grunted, clearly not amused at her humor. “What do you need?”

  “Strategy.” She began pacing, worry churning in her gut at the thought of the guys being in danger because of her. “I’m new to this area. Would it be better to find a nice hidey-hole or face the battle head-on and fight?”

  “It won’t work.” Draven tunneled his fingers through his hair, something he was doing more and more frequently. “The queen has spies everywhere. Even with help to keep you off her radar, she will find you.”

  He sounded defeated even before the fight, and she hated it.

  It wasn’t like him to give up, especially when their lives were on the line.

  “Since you don’t know how many are coming after you, it’s better to stay on the run,” MacGregor continued, as if he didn’t notice the tension in the room. “The last thing you want is to be cornered. The covens have a number of safe houses and drop spots you can raid for supplies.” He began rooting through his desk, pulling out rolls of maps, and spreading them over the surface.

  Kincade and Atlas immediately leaned over the desk and began poring over the charts, memorizing routes and discussing options. Not wanting to interrupt, needing time to herself, time to research the hunt, Morgan left it to them, freezing when she noticed MacGregor watching her.

  “Don’t trust the witches.”

  She snorted at the absurdity of the thought, and he gave her a half smile.

  “Don’t trust anyone who’s not on your team.” He rapped his knuckles on his desk. “You got me, girl?”

  She nodded, understanding perfectly. The fae were tricksters and would use anyone they thought might get them what they wanted, uncaring of who it would harm, and the bitch queen had to be more cunning than most or she wouldn’t be wearing the crown. Morgan would be able to tell if any of the guys were spelled, but she wouldn’t be able to detect anything wrong with others until it was too late.

  As the guys argued and plotted, she cocked her head at MacGregor. “Aren’t you going to tell me I’m being a fool?”

  The crinkles at the edges of his eyes revealed his deep amusement. “No one has ever been able to tell you what to do, especially when you feel strongly about something. We’re hunters, and our job is to protect those who can’t protect themselves.”

  Tears burned the backs of her eyes, and she glanced down, quickly blinking them away. It hurt that her team didn’t trust her, but knowing that MacGregor would do the same eased the deep bruises their lack of faith in her had caused.

  “Go.” MacGregor discreetly nodded toward the door. “I’ll get them ready for you.”

  Without giving her a chance to protest, he took charge. “Ryder and Draven, get the packs ready. You’ll need special to-go bags. Weapons, food, supplies—and check with Mistress McKay about a few spells. Ascher—”

  “I’ll remain with Morgan.” His face was hard, his voice uncompromising. “I wouldn’t put it past the bitch queen to go after her before the hunt is supposed to even begin.”

  Morgan mentally snickered when he used the name she’d been using for Draven’s queen, part of her shocked that he would stand up to MacGregor…for her. When she didn’t protest him joining her, the guys studied her unobtrusively, trying not to be obvious about it, and she heaved a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m not an idiot. I have no intention of being taken out of the game before it’s even started.”

  And yet, the guys still stared at her suspiciously. “Look, if she harms me, that geas thing kicks into effect, and the queen will suffer.”

  “Wrong.” Draven’s voice was harsh, his anger lashing through the room. It hurt to see the capable hunter torn away to reveal the broken man underneath. “The hunt doesn’t begin until tonight, after sunset. Until then, she has all the time in the world to kill you without being harmed in any way.”

  Morgan sighed in defeat. “Will it make you feel better if I promise not to leave the grounds without all of you?”

  Kincade grunted, Ryder sighed. Although none of the guys looked the least bit appeased, they didn’t protest her leaving. Morgan practically bolted for the door before they could change their minds…and nearly slammed into Ward and Shade.

  “What the hell?” She straightened from where she almost landed on her ass and glared up at them. “Skulking in the hall, much?”

  Ward didn’t react at all, while Shade appeared amused.

  “We—”

  “Oh, by the gods, not you guys, too!” Morgan threw up her hands and whirled, marching off down the hall. “I forbid both of you to come with us.”

  “You can’t trust the queen.” Ward seemed unperturbed by her outburst, but the dark tone in his voice hinted that he spoke from experience.

  Morgan slowed her strides, incredibly curious about his past. “You’ve had dealings with her before? Does that mean your memory is returning?”

  She wasn’t sure if that was necessarily a good thing. He was a rigid man, who adhered to the strict rules he deemed acceptable. If he ever remembered, she wondered if they would be friends or if she would be one of the many he deemed a threat and find herself in prison.

  Ward turned to her, his face emotionless as he completely ignored her second question. “Sirens get what they want by using seduction. It’s second nature to them. They don’t know how to turn it off.”

  Morgan couldn’t help but wonder if he was subtly warning her about Draven. Her initial reaction was to tell him to fuck off, but she pushed past her anger, searching for the truth. “Are you asking if I think Draven is influencing me?”

  She stopped walking, forcing everyone else to stop as well. Without hesitation, she grabbed the front of his shirt, and slammed him up against the wall, genetics and anger giving her the ability to move his bulk. Those eyes of his widened, the specks of silver in them expanding like an explosion, studying her with an intensity that made her skull feel like spiders were crawling around inside it.

  She brought up her arm, pressing it tight against his throat.

  “You don’t want to do that again.” She whispered the threat, fearing that if she released her anger, she might actually try to rip him apart.

  “Don’t you want to know if he’s influencing you?” He seemed unalarmed by her threat.

  “Of course he’s influencing me.” She released him, his touch suddenly repellant. “How would you react to someone who tried to claim your mate?”

  She spun away from them, practically running to escape the need to tear into Ward and work out some of her frustrations.

  “He’s not.”

  Ward’s softly spoken words barely reached her ears, and her stride hitched.

  “Influencing you, I mean.”

  She unclenched her fists, slowed her pace, and allowed her anger to fade. “You don’t understand, do you?”

  Ward cocked his head.

  “I never once doubted him. He’s done everything in his power to protect me, even trying to turn himself over to his queen despite knowing that he would never be free again.” She shook her head at Ward, pity welling up for him. “He’s my friend. He’s proven it by standing by me without asking for anything in return. He needs me now, and I have no intention of letting him down.”

  “You will be queen one day. You can’t rely on trust. You must rely on the truth.”

  Ward seemed so sure of himself that Morgan felt sorry for him. “You’re wrong. Draven is my mate. While he might piss me off to hell and back, he would never do anything to
endanger me.”

  “You don’t think the hunt will put you in danger?”

  “Yes, but the choice wasn’t his. It was mine.” She bared her teeth at him. “Someone is trying to take what I consider mine. She will destroy him. It’s my right to protect him…just like he would protect me.”

  Something she said must have finally registered, and Ward nodded. Sure, it sounded like a pissing match, but it was so much more than that.

  Losing Draven, knowing he would be harmed, and she couldn’t do anything to help him, would damage something inside her.

  She ducked down the side hall, Ascher shoving past Ward and Shade to match her stride until his silence began to prey on her nerves. “Spit it out.”

  “You know he’s just trying to look out for you.” He didn’t glance at her as they continued down the hall. “We all are.”

  Morgan blew out a heavy breath, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. “Maybe, but none of you are giving me any credit, either. Why does everyone seem to think it’s acceptable for me to give up on my mates?”

  Ascher glanced down at his feet, suddenly looking lost, and shrugged a shoulder. “It’s just the reality of the situation. If you were anyone else, this wouldn’t even be a question.”

  “Because I’m a woman?” She snorted in disgust. “That’s bullshit.”

  “No,” Shade spoke up from behind them. “What he means is most creatures of the void are self-centered assholes who only look out for themselves. We do whatever is needed to make sure we come out on top. You’re…” He gave her that half smirk that annoyed the shit out of her. “…different.”

  He made a different sound like a curse, and maybe he was right.

  “Look, I realize you’re all trying to protect me, but I was raised to protect others. Underneath everything, I’m a hunter. I know the difference between right and wrong. I’m not always going to be on the right side of that line, but I’m going to do my best not to stray too far on either side. I don’t need more power, and I don’t want it.”

  Ascher’s blue eyes softened as he looked at her, his fingers brushing the back of her hand while she walked, and it warmed her to be reminded that he was on her side.

 

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