To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1

by Ceri Grenelle

  His teeth nipped the plush side of her breast as he felt her body wake from sleep. Cimby’s legs wrapped around his, her heels rubbing his calves as she moaned and grumbled her way into the waking world.

  “Morning,” she said with a raspy voice, sinking her fingers into his hair and pulling him closer to her skin. He basked in her shameless need, loving the way she took what she wanted.

  “Insatiable,” he growled, sliding his hand between her thighs and playing with the wetness there. She moaned, tightening her legs around his hand to hold him there. Her hips writhed and she dug her heels farther into his calves to pull her hips off the bed and greet his fingers as they plunged deep inside her. He watched the exquisite expressions on her face, torn between anguish and pleasure, her teeth biting her lip and her eyes focused on him and only him. He smiled, gripping her hip with one hand and thrusting inside her with another. He could do this all day, and he would have if an unfamiliar phone hadn’t begun to ring. It wasn’t his.

  Cimby froze, staring at the ceiling as she’d thrown her head back the second before the phone rang. Her legs loosened and she stoked his cheek in an uncharacteristic display of affection before pushing him away and sliding out from underneath his body. In other circumstances he wouldn’t have let her go, too wrapped up in her need and lust to allow the real world back into their lives, but he smelled the change in her scent. She’d gone from complete passion to cold anxiety in half a second. Whatever message had come in on her phone, it was important. So he let her go and watched as she climbed out of the bed.

  Her hair was a wild, curly mess and she was still completely naked. As Kerrick had explored her body on the grass-covered roof, he’d discovered a scar stretching from the base of her neck to the bottom of her spine. It was shiny in the morning light, as if it had been touched by magic. Each new imperfection and scar he found painting her skin taught him something new about his mate and made him want to know her more. She’d lived a solitary life, but it hadn’t been a life without adventure.

  Cimby bent by her pants and pulled a slim smartphone from the pocket. After a few digital clicks she read whatever message had come through. Her shoulders tensed further and a steady growl pulsed from her throat, her fingers shifting subtly into claws.

  “Is something wrong with Iri?” He sat up, wondering what was so infuriating to his usually cool and collected mate.

  “No,” she said shortly. “I only get texts when I have an assignment.” She looked at him, a heavy weight behind her eyes looking almost like nerves. “The information packet is waiting for me at the P.O. Box near my cabin.” She began gathering her clothes and dressing.

  “You get texts about it?”

  “Didn’t used to,” she said methodically, the passionate woman from moments ago all but vanished. “Ten years ago they sent me a phone to carry so I would know when a job was upcoming. Later they sent me all the info I needed if I wanted to upgrade to a more modern phone. I’ve had the account ever since.”

  “I think it’s time we figured out who has been sending you these assignments.” Kerrick stepped out of bed and stroked her arm briefly before reaching for a pair of jeans. They’d left his room in a state of chaos the night before, their need for one another too insistent to fold and put away any clothes.

  “You have too much to deal with here.” She turned away from him but not before he saw a frown marring her face and her lips tighten, making the scar twist and stiffen. “I’ll take a flight back to South Carolina today and retrieve the package.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Kerrick said, picking up a T-shirt to wear.

  She stopped moving and turned to face him. Her voice was monotone, much like their earlier conversations when they’d first met. It was her assassin façade, the face she wore when she knew she’d need to kill someone. Only this time, it wouldn’t be the person detailed for her in that information packet. “Don’t you have a Vryk threat to handle?”

  “I have the alphas and soldiers who have flown in working on that. Aaron and Rhiannon can handle things while I’m gone. That’s what having a Captain and Lieutenant are for.” He cupped her face, needing her to see how he would always be there for her. “I need to be with you right now.”

  “Kerrick—”

  “I’m going. That’s it.”

  She stared at him for a moment before asking, “Is this another ‘I speak, you listen’ moment? Because I was not really fond of that first one.”

  “Yes it is, so listen.” He pulled her close and pushed back the unruly chocolate curls to look into her eyes. “I was an ass before. I know who you are, and I will never cage or chain you ever again. But you’re my mate and I’m going.”

  “Not your mate yet,” she mumbled sourly, but the humor in her eyes gave him hope.

  “Only because you’re the most stubborn woman on the damn planet.”

  “Sure you want to be stuck with that for centuries?” She made it sound like a joke, but he answered the question with every ounce of determination he felt regarding their mating.

  “I’ve never been so sure of anything,” he said before kissing her. A soft but determined mating of lips. His tongue licked its way into her mouth and she responded, stroking his tongue back and holding on to him with fingers digging into his skin. He pulled away and rested his forehead against hers for just a moment. He just needed that one moment.

  “Hmm,” was all she said in response. He left it at that, thinking the exchange fragile and not wanting to break it. They dressed and Kerrick texted Rhiannon to arrange the flight. Before leaving they checked in on Irisi in the Med Center who was sound asleep. Lottie assured them she’d keep an eye out for changes and would notify them if she found anything. As Cimby whispered soft goodbyes to Irisi in her sleep, Kerrick snapped a picture of the Osiris symbol on the girl’s hip with his phone and sent it to Zach along with a message to discover everything he could about the members of the cult and their main goals. Any cult that would steal a child away and brand her wasn’t anything he wanted existing in his territory.

  “What airline are we taking?” Cimby asked as Kerrick opened the car door for her.

  “Don’t insult me. Airline? Please.”

  “What, are you too prissy for us bottom dwellers who take commercial flights?” she asked, but the chuckle gave away her enjoyment of their banter and his highhanded attitude. He climbed in the driver’s side of the car, a devilish grin lighting his face. He enjoyed teasing his mate.

  “Not prissy, just too good for it. I am the Alphar after all. All must bow before me.” He put the car in gear and drove away from The Mansion to the raspy sounds of her laughter. A sound Kerrick promised himself he would never take for granted.

  Cimby stepped out of the jet and into the warm South Carolina air. After a relatively smooth six-hour flight they landed in a small airfield she’d never used before, but had always been aware of. It was much closer to her cabin than the commercial airlines and she enjoyed not having to battle her way through a security check. She could undoubtedly get used to flying with Kerrick especially the part when halfway through the flight he provided his own version of in-flight entertainment.

  As they coasted some thirty thousand feet above the ground, and her breath returned to normal, Kerrick nipping and sucking at her neck as he removed his fingers from under her jeans, Cimby’s hand found its way to his forearm and began to stroke, her mind as light and airy as the clouds streaming past them.

  “What’s it like to fly?” she asked, knowing as the Alphar he had the power to shift into any animal he chose.

  His lips traced the bumps and ridges on her face, making her heart tremble from embarrassment and warmth from his care for her at the same time.

  “Flying is the avian shifters form of running. When you run, you feel complete. It’s a symbol of your wild freedom. The same is for the avians.”

  “Did you ever just h
ave one animal inside you before taking on the Alphar power?”

  He hesitated, his body language changing from satisfied male wariness. “Yes.” After a long pause she thought he would leave it at that, the subject apparently a sore one. She knew what it was like to have secrets and it would be hypocritical of her to chastise him for it. But at the same time, a new and foreboding voice inside her heart told her to press him, pursue him. Whether she fully accepted him or not, this man was her mate and it was her right to know him and take care of his heart.

  She was about to ask him another question when he continued, his voice soft and wistful in memory. “I was a Bear, like Aaron. When a potential becomes the Alphar, the soul of every shifter creature that ever walked your territory, even the extinct ones, pushes your original animal aside and shares the space within you with him.”

  “Kerrick…” She didn’t know what to say, the thought of not being connected to her Wolf too terrible to contemplate.

  “I felt like I’d been ripped apart and new pieces of me were added to fit all those souls inside my mind and body. The first few days were hard. They fought and raged, fighting for space, for dominance. I had to rein them in, convince them to share me with each other for the security and protection of our people. It took a while, but they accepted.”

  “Do you miss having just your Bear?”

  He kissed her forehead and tugged her close. “He’s always close to the front of my mind, but he knew what would happen when we decided to take the power.”

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  He squeezed her tighter. “Every day.”

  His voice was contemplative and his gaze far away, watching some unseen force through the plane window. Looking at him now with only the sound of the engines for company, Cimby could see the weight of his position in his eyes and all the lives he carried gripping his back, depending on him to carry them to safety. The youngest potential to ever gain the Alphar authority, and the youngest Alphar to mate if she agreed to the mating. If she didn’t, he would flounder and possibly succumb to the maddening depths of power. She knew that feeling, when the thing inside took control of her mind and she was no longer herself. Cimby wouldn’t wish that on anyone, and the thought of losing the great man Kerrick was and all the things he could possibly accomplish as Alphar was a travesty. But she couldn’t agree to the mating to save him. It would be a lie and the bond itself wouldn’t be as strong if made under false pretenses. She needed to want it for herself, to go against everything she’d ever learned and be selfish.

  “Come,” Kerrick said, gently taking her hand to guide her off the plane like the proper Alphar he was, and gesturing to the rental car Rhiannon arranged for them.

  The touch of his hand grounded her, but so did the feel of the land around her. She was back on familiar ground, her home turf. It was time to put her emotions away and focus on the mission at hand. It may be of a different nature than her usual assignments, but it was probably more important than any mission she’d engaged in previously. Someone had used her to kill innocents, a thought that made her stomach twist into a knot of hardened acid. She was so angry. At the beginning of her training, one of her earliest memories, she could remember one of her many trainers promising her life would be fulfilling and she would be cared for if she followed the rules and protected the Alphar’s people. She did that. She dedicated her life to them, sacrificing a normal existence for the safety of innocents and now someone was using that promise against her and making a mockery of everything she’d ever worked toward.

  “Cimby,” Kerrick said, holding the car door open. His eyes were on her hands. She looked down to see blood dripping from her palms where her claws had unsheathed and punctured her flesh.

  “I drive,” she said, rubbing the little droplets of blood on her black jeans and snatching the car keys from Kerrick’s hand.

  He stopped her from entering the car with a small kiss to her cheek, stolen as she walked past. He raised her hands to inspect the damage, wiping away the lines of blood to see the small punctures already healing.

  “The scars you have…”

  “Magic infused,” she confirmed, the only way they wouldn’t heal.

  He dropped one of her hands to run his up the side of her torso, slipping beneath her shirt to rest heavy and warm along her back. “The one on your spine?”

  “The blade was magic. The wound stayed open for a week.”

  “Who—”

  Unable to keep from luxuriating in his scent, she leaned into him and nuzzled his neck with her lips, her teeth nipping his skin lightly. His hand tugged her closer. “That’s a story for another time.”

  “I want to know you.”

  “You will,” she said, pushing away and opening the driver side door. “But I need to make you work for it at least a little.”

  “I don’t think you understand how this goes,” he said, corning her against the door and the entrance to the car, his scent wafted over her and with it she smelled the delicious additives of arousal and excitement. “I man. You woman. I always drive.”

  “Oh shut up.” She tried not to laugh at his antics, wanting to wrap a cold anger around her heart to fortify her for the coming mission. But it seemed it didn’t matter how tight or hard she’d pulled her shields in around her, he would always get through. Her mate. For the first time since they’d locked eyes on the big lawn of The Mansion, the thought of having a mate wasn’t as terrifying as it seemed. Instead, it was comforting. It was right.

  “All right, all right. I suppose I could let you play servant and drive me around. Although if you’re gonna commit to this, you need to serve all my needs, and you left me hanging a little on that plane, love.”

  “See?” she said after they were settled in the car. “This mating will never work. I already want to kill you.”

  “Drive, lowly servant.” He nearly missed her hand as it slapped him upside the head. Nearly.

  They first stopped at the post office where she kept her P.O. Box. It was a few counties over from the general area of her cabin, but she liked it better that way. If someone ever followed her from the post office, she would have ample time to detect them before leading the bastards to her home, and then indirectly to Irisi. The thought always made her smile. When had the protection and safety of that small girl become more important than the secrecy of her identity?

  The package was the usual size, a nondescript manila envelope with around ten pages of information on the target. Name, background, physical description and what the alleged crimes were. It was up to her to find the person and dispose of them in a timely and inconspicuous manner. She exchanged glances with Kerrick after retrieving it, an unspoken anger bouncing between them towards the person who’d been sending these assignments. Who was it? How could that person have known who she was? The more she thought about it the angrier she became. She’d always thought of the role she played within Were society as an honor. Quietly protecting the innocents of their territory and this person was using her for their own means. It defiled the position and disrespected all the years she’d trained and sacrificed a normal life to become the best.

  They reached the dirt road that turned onto the cabin a couple hours later. It seemed her worry of discovery after the fight with Irisi’s father was unnecessary. Everything was as it should be after an initial inspection upon exiting the car.

  “So,” Kerrick said, walking into the cabin and taking a nosy look around. He was too large for the space, his presence alone filling what used to be a hollow spot made singularly for the purpose of shelter. Having him there made it something more personal. “How long have you lived here?”

  “Ten years. I am technically only supposed to remain in one area for six to eight years. With Iri here and needing me…” She trailed off, not needing to finish the sentence when she saw his warm smile. His appreciation of her love for Irisi tickled her heart
and amped up her pulse.

  She set the package on the kitchen table and walked into the walk-in pantry. There was a floorboard in the far right corner that to an outsider’s eye would only appear slightly warped. She pressed it with her foot, a whooshing sound disturbing the air as the panel mechanically lowered itself to reveal a storage area. She grabbed the sides of the container and lifted the square metal bin out of its hiding spot. There were many other places in the cabin that were similar to this spot but this one was her most precious.

  “What’s that?” Kerrick pointed to the metal bin she placed on the kitchen table.

  “One of the few rules I ever broke in my years as Incendiary, my relationship with Iri not included,” she said with a heavy sigh, using her thumbprint on a touchpad to electronically unlock the bin.

  Kerrick smoothed his hand down her back, his middle finger trailing the scar on her spine and coming to rest on her hip to pull her close. “Tell me.”

  She opened it. Stacks of papers and manila folders identical to the one lying on the table stared up at them. Every Were, every assignment she’d ever had. Marcus’s folder was the latest one, lying on top. It had a red X across the picture of his ID. Underneath she’d written one large word in blue sharpie. INNOCENT. She usually didn’t defile the files, but she’d been pissed after that particular discovery.

  “I’m supposed to destroy them. Memorize the information and then burn the folder so nothing can be traced back to me or the sender.”