Page 55 of Guardians of the Assassins
Before any of the fae contingent could argue, Thanatos nodded. “Agreed. You broke the accords by attacking one of her mates. She has every right to kill you without fear of retribution.”
Caedmon stiffened, his breath halting in his chest as fear threatened to consume him. He’d been beyond thrilled to discover she was his mate. He’d never thought he would have someone to call his own…until he saw her expression.
May the gods have mercy on his soul.
His heart actually ached at the denial and sheer panic on her face. He shoved down his own feelings, needing to protect her, and prayed that with enough time, he could convince her to love him.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Morgan bit her lip to keep from gaping at the boldface lie Thanatos spoke, but something inside her trembled at his claim—a ring of truth to it—and a tiny doubt wormed its way into her brain. Her stomach somersaulted wildly at the thought of claiming Caedmon as hers.
She glanced at the rest of her mates, but they didn’t react at all to the statement.
While the knot of anxiety in her gut loosened that they obviously didn’t believe the lie, it didn’t explain the twinge of disappointment that tightened around her heart like it was being crushed.
She never expected to have one mate, much less five.
She didn’t need the complication of adding another.
And yet, the pang in her chest became an ache at the denial.
Then she shoved all the nonsense of mates to the back of her mind and focused on the current threat. The metal wolves slowly prowled forward, their movements liquid, like metal was flowing under their hide.
The way the light hit them made the wolves look otherworldly.
The fae guards noticed them first, and it was almost comicalto see the thin veneer of politeness torn away. Two were furious, not taking their attention away from the threat stalking them. They went back-to-back with Aoibh in the middle. A third one swallowed hard, fear widening his eyes, unable to mask his terror. The last one, the one who’d looked almost happy to see Atlas, appeared fascinated.
But the biggest reaction was from Aoibh.
She looked enraptured, no doubt wondering how she could be able to make them her own.
While two of the wolves stalked forward to stand protectively in front of her mates, the other two wolves took up residence on either side of Morgan. She placed her hand on the nearest wolf. The beast’s rumble of appreciation sounded like two metal pieces were grating against each other. It leaned into her, tipping his head to allow her to scratch its ear. To her surprise, the metal was silky smooth and warm to the touch.
When she turned to face Aoibh, the wolves mimicked her, their mouths dropping open to show razor sharp teeth—literally. “Before you leave, release the wolves. Give them back their ability to shift.”
Aoibh shot her a look of dislike, clearly annoyed Morgan would think to demand anything from her. “Why even bother? They’re barely more than beasts either way.”
Her reply was so callous that rage swirled in Morgan’s soul, demanding vengeance, and she narrowed her eyes. “While you might see the wolves as beneath you, remember that I’m at least part god. In the hierarchy of things, that means you are beneath me. Do you really want me to play god with the fae? Do you want me to mettle in your business like you have in mine? Because I have no problem fucking up your life. It would be my pleasure.”
Morgan gave her a very toothy smile, enjoying the way a muscle near Aoibh’s eye twitched, and Morgan knew she’d scored a point.
She waited for Aoibh to lash out, but instead of being offended, the fae conceded the point with a reluctant nod. “Sincewolves are your familiar, you just need to return their magic to them, something either you or a strong alpha should be able to do. Faerie magic is not…compatible with wolves. If they try, I can’t guarantee that they won’t be…altered.”
A shiver went up Morgan’s spine at the way Aoibh spoke, like she was intrigued at the possibilities. A small smile lifted up the corners of her lips, no doubt trying to get a rise out of Morgan.
The twat would do it just to piss her off.
Morgan just raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Try it. Let’s see how long it would take me to track you down. I wonder how the rest of the fae would feel to know the elves were experimenting on other species.”
Morgan would swear to the gods that Aoibh just rolled her eyes. It happened so quickly that she couldn’t be sure. Her gaze landed on Caedmon, and she shook her head almost pityingly. “Once upon a time, he was one of our greatest warriors. It’s sad to see him reduced to this. I don’t blame you for not finishing the mating.”
Morgan felt like she’d just been wacked in the face by a two-by-four. Unaware of the bombshell she just dropped, Aoibh headed toward the door, her guards falling into step around her.
Morgan took a step after them to demand answers, but then closed her hands into fists to stop the impulse. The last thing she wanted to do was reveal her ignorance at what the fuck she just insinuated.
Aoibh paused at the door, shooting Atlas a dark look so sour that it could curdle milk. “You can’t trust the dark fae. You should kill him before he betrays you.”
Morgan was offended by the callous statement, her confusion replaced by sheer dislike. Atlas was the most loyal and honorable man that she’d ever met. That Aoibh claimed otherwise made her suspect the bitch was evil to the core.
