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 23

by Stacey Brutger


  Morgan snorted a laugh. “You’re not in much better condition, buttercup.”

  Breanna leaned into her, clutching her shoulder. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you to leave.”

  Though she protested, she didn’t pull away from help, and the two of them staggered toward the warehouse like a pair of drunks. She wasn’t sure who was leaning against who more. She panted under the exertion to keep upright as they stumbled toward the waiting sword, Ascher hanging back to protect them.

  “I spent most of my life hunting alone, but I recently discovered working as part of a team is different.” Morgan reached out for the pommel of the sword, her fingers touching the metal as she turned toward Breanna. “We never leave one of our own behind.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Kincade prowled back and forth in front of the warehouse, going out of his mind with waiting, tortured with gruesome images of what might be happening to Morgan. It went against everything in him to leave her, but she had asked them to trust her.

  Everything changed when her pain rippled through their connections.

  Morgan was hurt.

  Then it seemed like she vanished completely. They clung to the knowledge that she was alive.

  For now.

  But they needed to get to her.

  She needed them.

  But it took them much too long to figure out where she’d gone. By the time they arrived, Morgan was beyond their reach. Each of them grabbed for the sword, but nothing happened…until Ascher.

  The moment the hellhound touched the blasted thing, he vanished.

  Kincade wasn’t jealous, just relieved to know she would no longer be alone. If nothing else, the bastard would do whatever it took to bring her back to them.

  He had to trust that.

  Yet the sun had risen more than two hours ago, and there was no sign of their return. He strode back to the sword, ignoring the way the rest of the guys watched his every move. He was the leader. He was supposed to have a plan. Nothing mattered to him but getting Morgan back.

  As he reached for the sword one more time, his hand encountered flesh instead of metal. His body hardened, instantly recognizing the touch anywhere.

  Morgan.

  He tightened his grip and pulled. Seconds later, he ended up on his ass with Morgan in his lap.

  “Gods, you’re freezing!” He pulled her closer, running his hands over her, searching for injuries. He cupped her head, frantically searching her face. “You’re alive.”

  He couldn’t stop touching her, not until he was sure it wasn’t a cruel lie.

  Morgan pressed her forehead against Kincade’s, not caring when her ribs creaked from his tight hold. Heat radiated from him like a furnace, and she burrowed closer, basking in the scent of earth and warm stone. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Breanna stagger through the portal next, her form turning transparent before she could topple to the ground.

  Ascher burst through the portal next, and the starch went out of her spine. She buried her face against Kincade’s shoulder and began to shiver.

  A second later Ryder plucked her out of Kincade’s lap, and she quickly wrapped her legs around his waist instead of leaving them dangling in air. The scent of everything green filled her lungs, and the knots in her stomach gradually uncoiled.

  The sugary smell of brownies and chocolate goodness that was Draven wrapped around her as he pressed close, sandwiching her between the two men.

  “I won’t feel better until we get her somewhere safe.”

  Very reluctantly, she pushed away from the guys. She expected them to be furious, but none of them spoke a word of reproach. “Thank you for coming back for me.”

  Then Ascher was striding toward her, wearing only a pair of jeans that barely hung on his hips. He didn’t slow until he cupped her face. “Don’t ever ask me to leave you again.”

  Without giving her a chance to speak, he slammed his mouth over hers and kissed the daylights out of her. Charcoal and fire surrounded her, and she couldn’t get close enough to him and the heat radiating from his skin. When she didn’t fight him, his kiss slowly gentled. Then he swept her up in his arms and carried her toward the van.

  Atlas beat him to the door, opening it for them, but Morgan grabbed the frame. “Breanna, you’ll ride with us. We can come back for your car and pick up your stuff later.”

  The banshee stood off to the side, watching silently, but stilled when Morgan spoke. “You’re sure?”

  She’d expected Morgan to go back on her word.

  Morgan twisted, trying to get out of Ascher’s hold, but he tightened his grip, pretending not to notice her wiggling, and she huffed out an exasperated breath before settling down. “Today is a regular occurrence in my life. People frequently try to kill us. Are you sure this is the life you want? I can’t guarantee you’ll be safe, but I can promise to be your friend.”

  Breanna glanced at the small group, then walked to her car, removed a small bag, and hitched it over her shoulder. “I’m sure.” She brushed her hair out of her face. “If your offer is still open.”

  The guys glanced at each other before their attention landed on her. As if reading something from her expression, the guys nodded, one by one. Ryder opened the front door to the van. “Welcome to the Academy.”

  Without wasting another moment, everyone piled into the vehicle. The ride back to the Academy was quiet, and it took a good ten minutes to banish the bitter cold that permeated her soul.

  “What is that?” Atlas reached over, snatching up her right arm and twisting it up into the light. Where the arrow entered her was an almost-metallic star.

  “It’s the symbol of the Morning Star.” Breanna glanced back from where she sat in the front seat, the heater turned on high. “Not many people escape death. Think of it as a badge of honor.”

  Morgan shook out of Atlas’s hold, then grabbed his hand, twining their fingers together. The warm scent of cinnamon eased the last bit of worry that she would never see her men again.

  “I do have a question.” Breanna glanced at Ascher, then back at her. “How did you know that a hellhound could pass into the veil?”

  “We didn’t.” Kincade was the one who spoke.

  Breanna’s brows lifted in surprise. “Then you were very lucky.”

  “Not luck.” Ascher countered, brushing his lips against Morgan’s forehead. “Fate.”

  He squeezed her tight, then handed her over to Atlas, who gathered her into his lap. She expected him to be awkward and rigid, but he gathered her close like she was a most treasured gift.

  “Then you’re doubly lucky. A hellhound is the only beast who can survive in the other realm. Without the power of the black blades, they are one of the few creatures who are able to shred a living soul.”

  “Did you know?” Morgan glanced at Ascher, while tucking her chilled feet into his lap. She nearly moaned when he grabbed them and upped the heat.

  “Rumors. Old myths that we were the beasts of the underworld.” Ascher shrugged it away as unimportant. “We’ve been free from death’s realm for centuries, and only had stories passed down from our ancestors that we’ve brushed off as nonsense.”

  Morgan watched him with concern, worried that he would run, but he didn’t seem the least bit freaked out by the news. He lifted his attention from her feet. “Does it bother you that I might have descended from hell?”

  Morgan couldn’t help it, she snorted on her laugh. “You do realize the truth is literally in the name of your species, right?”

  A dusting of color darkened Ascher’s cheeks, and something in her chest softened.

  “I chose each of you for a reason. Not because of your race, but because of who you are. Despite being pains in my ass, I fell in love with each of you.” She glanced at the men to find them watching her intently. “I’m also enough of a bitch to kick your asses out of my life if I didn’t want you here.”

  She peered at Ascher, ducking her head until she was sure she had his atten
tion. “So, to answer your question, I understand that everyone has a past, and not everyone gets to choose their path. But what you survived forged the person you are today, a person I love. I chose you.” She encompassed the others. “I chose each of you.”

  Atlas’s grip on her tightened, and she tucked her head against his shoulder, feeling shy about revealing her feelings for them in front of each other. They deserved for her to tell each of them in private, not blurt it out in front of everyone.

  Ascher squeezed her feet, completely unaware of the fact his hold had tightened, and she turned to see a dumbfounded expression on his face. When she wiggled her toes, he loosened his grip, automatically going back to massaging her arches, a bemused smile crossing his face.

  She slept on and off, waking when they arrived at the Academy. They pulled up to the garage, and she sat up, surprised to find herself on Ryder’s lap. His head rested next to hers, pure pleasure was etched on his face at the simple task of holding her.

  When she glanced up, it was to meet Kincade’s gaze in the rearview mirror, and she flashed a smile at him. “At least the car survived this time.”

  They rounded the corner, backing in to the parking spot between two similar vehicles.

  Kincade had barely shifted the van in the park before Loki pounced on the hood with an audible thump that rocked the vehicle, leaving four very distinct paw prints. Metal screeched in complaint as his claws tore at the hood.

  His tail lashed back and forth, whacking the vehicles on either side of them, shattering glass and leaving heavy dents in the paneling. His happy face left great globs of slobber on the windshield as he crouched down to peer back at her.

  Breanna had flashed into her banshee form, most likely a fear reaction.

  Kincade turned on the windshield wipers to clear off the spit, and Loki followed the blades, weaving his great head back and forth. He sat up, leaned back on his hind legs, then pounced again. Glass crunched, sending thousands of spider cracks in every direction. He caught one of the blades in his big maw, yanking it clear off the vehicle.

  When he leapt off the hood, he trotted away, carrying his prize proudly in his mouth, leaving behind two deep impressions of his paws in the windshield.

  “There goes the car.” Ascher mused.

  “Did he get bigger?” Kincade asked as he watched the hound. “He looks bigger.”

  “Bugger probably missed her too.” Draven nodded, like it made complete sense.

  None of the guys left the car, each of them talking like they were discussing the weather.

  “One more night.” Kincade gripped the steering wheel, twisting his head side to side until bones cracked.

  “One more trial.” Ascher sounded grim.

  Ryder tightened his hold, and she felt a rumble in his chest vibrate against her back. Atlas just looked determined.

  “It’s too risky. Each trial is worse than the last. You nearly died in the first hunt. You were dying tonight. I felt it.” Draven’s voice was tortured. “Please, I don’t want you to risk your life for mine. To know you were hurt because of me is tearing me apart. That you might die because of me is just too much. I beg you, just let me go. Nothing is worth your life. Not me, not anyone.”

  Morgan ached for him, his plea like an arrow to her heart, but she couldn’t do what he asked. She leaned forward until she was right in his face…then kissed the daylights out of him. He was too stunned to react at first, then he dove in, wholehearted, and took over the kiss, leaving her head swimming.

  When she leaned back, gasping for air, she cupped his face so he wouldn’t escape. “Say you’re not worth it one more time, and I’ll smack you so hard you’ll forget your own name. Do you understand me?”

  Tears swam in his eyes, and he gulped down his laughter, his heart literally breaking in front of her…and there was nothing she could do.

  “Ask the guys.” He pulled away, his face shutting down. “They’ll tell you the same thing.”

  Morgan glanced at the others. None of them said a word, each of their gazes dead serious, and her heart plummeted at their betrayal.

  “While none of us are worthy of her, it’s not our choice.” Kincade cleared his throat. “You’re family. She made us family. If you were gone, it would hurt her, and that’s unacceptable. End of discussion.”

  Morgan swallowed hard, her throat tightening with too many emotions. She circled her arms around Draven’s shoulders, burying her face against his neck, unable to let him go, afraid he might slip away from her if she did. “I chose you. Don’t break my heart by leaving me. It won’t ever heal right without you.”

  “Fuck, babe, you destroy me.” Draven crushed her to his chest.

  Morgan was aware of the others getting out of the van, but she didn’t have the will to leave his arms. As if needing her touch just as much, Draven picked her up until she was straddling his lap. When he exited the vehicle, he carried her easily as they made their way inside, and murmured quietly in her ear, “I love you. I’ve only ever loved you.”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  When they caught up with the others, Draven reluctantly set her down, but retained his hold on her hand. Loki bounded around them, the mangled wiper still firmly in his mouth. He dropped it at Breanna’s feet in a pool of saliva, then backed up expectantly, half crouched, his ass in the air, his tail lashing back and forth playfully.

  Breanna stopped short, completely flummoxed by the beast. “Umm…”

  “He’s decided that you’re one of us and therefore fair game.” Morgan had trouble repressing her laughter at the way Breanna’s eyes widened. “He wants to play fetch.”

  “Don’t fall for it,” Atlas muttered. “Once you start, you only get to stop when he says he’s done with you.”

  Despite the warning, Breanna stooped and picked up the wiper, politely ignoring the ribbon of drool that plopped back to the cement floor. Then, without further hesitation, she turned, pulled back her arm, and threw it.

  She had a lot more power than Morgan would’ve expected. The slightly mauled plastic stick whooshed through the air, disappearing into the darkness on the other side of the garage.

  Loki perked right up, his nose in the air as he followed the progress. He trotted past them, seeming to give Breanna a nod of respect, before he charged after his prize in a streak of grey.

  Atlas just ambled past, shaking his head pityingly. Kincade was smirking, while Ryder gave Breanna a nod for taking the time to play. Ascher looked after Loki, then sighed. “You can all laugh, but you know that thing will be in pieces in our beds later. Although how he manages to get that much drool and shredded items under the covers, I’ll never know.”

  The majority of the students were in class when they reached the interior of the Academy. While most of the older students should’ve been out hunting, from the number of people milling about in the cafeteria and the training rooms, they’d obviously returned early.

  “They came back to show their support.” Kincade slowed his pace so he was walking beside her. “They see the sea queen as an intruder. Before you, they wouldn’t have blinked twice at one of their queens coming to claim any of them.”

  Morgan gulped at the musing tone of his voice, something about it itching her the wrong way. “And now?”

  “Now?” He cast her a quick glance, then went about observing the others, nodding respectfully at the other team leaders. “You’ve essentially claimed the school and the students as yours. While half of the students came because of their lineage, most of them see the old ways as outdated.”

  When she gaped at him in disbelief, his shoulder brushed against hers, closing the distance between them, as if afraid she was going to bolt. She mentally braced herself. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “You’re queen of the Academy. They’re your subjects. Draven isn’t your mate, but you’re fighting for him, determined to keep him here. They’re watching to see how far you’re willing to go to protect one of their own…how far you will be wi
lling to go to keep them protected and safe…even from their own families.”

  Atlas huffed under his breath, practically an outright laugh considering how little expression he usually showed. “These kids are commodities to their families, treated no better than a servant, and that won’t change until someone in their families dies and they can ascend to power. While some wait in anticipation of that time, most of these kids know it won’t happen for fifty to a hundred years…if they survive that long.”

  Morgan’s feet stopped moving, but Ryder was behind her, his chest pushing against her back to keep her going. “Steady.”

  She was uncomfortably aware of everyone watching.

  She could easily pick out the ones who would conform to tradition. They watched her with narrowed eyes, their noses up in the air, their body language completely closed off. On the opposite side of the spectrum stood most of the other students. They nodded to her with respect, many of them bowing their heads, lowering their eyes.

  “No one here will move against you or us.” Ascher gave her a reassuring nudge. “No matter where they stand on this debate, no one is doubting your rule. To them you’re queen. You have domain over the Academy and them until they’re called home.”

  Atlas sighed this time. “You’re going to have to start thinking about the future of this place and the covens. This is supposed to be a training center, but I suspect many of them will run into some trouble when returning to their families and covens. Their loyalty is going to stay with you.”

  Morgan was floored by their expectations. She hadn’t realized the extent of how her actions would affect others. She’d selfishly wanted to keep Draven by her side, and it had somehow turned into a revolution.

  For a girl who only wanted to hunt, Morgan was overwhelmed. “And how am I supposed to manage all of this?”

  “That’s why you appointed me to help.” Harper piped up, and Morgan whirled, surprised to discover the witch had been following them. “I’ve been working with your other two advisors.”

 

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