Page 64 of Guardians of the Assassins
“Are you not a queen?” He grabbed her ankle and dragged her to the edge of the bed, carefully unlacing her boots before slipping them off her dainty feet. Unable to resist, he stroked the bottom of her foot, smiling when it arched in his hold.
He fucking loved that she was always so responsive to his touch.
Morgan flopped back on the bed with a dramatic sigh, pouting as she gazed up at the ceiling. Crossing her arms, she muttered under her breath, “That’s different.”
Grabbing her other leg, he placed her foot on his chest, his grip tightening when her skirt slid up the curve of her legs, giving him a glorious view of her curves. He slipped off the other boot, gently set her foot back on the bed, then trailed his hands up her leg, loving the way she shivered. Placing his knee on the mattress, he purposely pinned her skirt, trapping her underneath him as he crawled up her body. He caged her with his arms, her body cradling him in a way that made him bite back a groan as he settled between her legs.
“You’re right—it’s totally different.” He couldn’t keep the huskiness out of his tone, not with her so near. “With you, I gained a family I’ve never dreamed possible. I’m loved by a woman so beautiful that my breath still hitches when I catch sight of her. I have fellow mates who treat me like a brother. I feel cherished when you smile at me or brush your fingers lovingly over our mating mark. I’ve never been so happy. You took nothing away from me. You gave me a reason to live.
“Aoibh has always been more of a monster than a mother. I was a mistake, a taint to the bloodlines, an accident she was forced to bring to term. If she could’ve terminated me in the womb, she would’ve done it in a heartbeat. Instead, I was an embarrassment, a half-breed with her name and blood, and she never let me forget it. The instant I ceased being useful, I was banished.”
His gut clenched as he waited for disgust to fill her face when she realized that even his own mother hadn’t wanted him. He hadn’t purposely kept his past from her, he’d left that life long ago.
He had no intention of going back.
His future was with the woman in his arms.
Nothing else mattered.
Now his past was threatening her life, and he cursed that he hadn’t curbed Aoibh’s mad obsession with power when he’d hadthe chance. He brushed his lips against hers, loving that he could touch her without restraint and she would always welcome him. “I gave up nothing. While I might miss Faerie, the high court is nothing but a pit of harpies. Being your mate is more than I ever dreamed, and I wouldn’t trade my place at your side for anything.”
He pressed closer, until every part of them touched, and he rested his forehead against hers. “She won’t stop coming after you now that she knows you’re the key to Tartarus. Having you running around free is too much of a risk.”
“Not going to happen. While I’m all for keeping me alive, I’m not so keen on being a prisoner.” Morgan slipped her arms around his neck, wrapping her legs around his waist, then shot him a devilish grin. “Aoibh is used to dealing with easier prey of humans and fae. I say we have some fun and fuck up her plans.”
A snort of laughter escaped him at her mischievous look, and a grin stretched his face. He adored this amazing woman, who had changed his gray, bleak world into a place of hope and wonder. He should be worried, Aoibh would go to any extreme to get what she wanted, but if anyone could take down that fae monster, it was the lovely assassin in his arms. “I’m game. What do you have in mind?”
A loud crash boomed from the first floor, muffled curses blistering the air, and they both leapt from the bed. The dress tightened and wrapped around her curves, changing to her normal hunter garb even as they barreled through the door. Just as they hit the stairs, a shout reached them.
“Loki! Get that fucking menace away from me!”
CHAPTER NINETEEN
With a knot of dread tightening her gut, Morgan pushed open the door to the study, Atlas hovering protectively behind her, like he expected her to be snatched out of thin air.
She took a step forward and stopped dead, wincing at the destruction.
Atlas nearly plowed into her, only his fast reflexes saving them from toppling into the room, then he gave a near silent whistle as he observed the damage.
The devastation was worse than she could have imagined.
The room was destroyed, stuffing from the couch still floating in the air. Her mates, including Caedmon, stood against the bookshelves, their eyes wide as they watched the chaos. Draven even had an awed expression on his face, like he was impressed at the sheer destructive capabilities.
Loki, his tail lashing, eyes narrowed with a single-minded focus on his prey, was perched on the desk. Deep gouges marred the wooden surface. The desk canted precariously under the hound’s weight, somehow having lost two of its legs. The curtains were half torn down from the windows, the rods bentlike they were deformed pretzels, while the rug on the floor was scattered everywhere like demented puzzle pieces gone wrong.
If she squinted hard, she’d swear the ceiling was dripping black sludge. Scorch marks riddled the room like tiny bombs had gone off, some of the spots still smoking. There was hardly a foot of space that hadn’t been hit.
Morgan placed her hands on her hips as she surveyed the room. When her gaze landed on Shade, she had to bite her lip to contain her laughter. She must not have done a good enough job, if the nasty glare he shot her way was any indication.
“Not amused,” he spat through gritted teeth, his glare venomous, but he didn’t dare take his attention away from Loki. Void magic swirled in his hands like black orb, ready for him to lob it in attack.
Too bad Loki was immune to magic. It was like tossing a water balloon at a small truck—it didn’t even faze the beast. They were lucky that the house was even still standing.
“Call off your mutt,” Shade hissed.
As if his voice was a trigger, Loki hunkered down, his ass in the air, wiggling it back and forth, seconds away from pouncing.
Then she sighed.
