Page 68 of Guardians of the Assassins
Though the guys weren’t happy, they kept their distance.
He’d been her companion the longest, so he knew how hard this news would’ve hit her.
While he wanted to gather her in his arms and grieve with her, that wasn’t what she needed right now. The other guys could give that to her in due time. What she needed now was answers, so she didn’t do something that she would later regret.
He strode across the room, then came to an abrupt stop at the lost, shattered expression on her face. He clenched his teeth against the urge to curse, trying to remember his plan when all he wanted to do was gather her close.
Only when he got the impulse under control did he reach outand lift her chin. Her violet eyes were dull, no recognition in them as she stared straight ahead. Panic was a nasty kick in the chest, and he tightened his hold on her jaw.
A furrow appeared between her brows at the pinch of pain, and he snapped, “Morgan!”
She blinked furiously, then jerked back, as if startled to see him standing so close. He breathed a sigh of relief when a spark of life darkened her eyes. When she would’ve pulled away, he slipped his hand to the back of her neck and tightened his grip. He feared if he allowed her to retreat, she would never open up to them and it would be too late to undo the damage.
Ascher hardened his heart and chose the words he knew would infuriate her. “In his own way, I think your grandfather loves you.”
“What?” She reared back, her voice harsh with betrayal. She slipped from his hold and glared up at him with furious eyes, her hands on her hips, those blades of hers gone.
“He’s been watching you for months, if not longer. He could’ve easily blasted you out of existence at any time.” Steam rose from his clothes, his beast agitated, not liking that they were pushing her when he wanted to snuggle in her lap.
Ryder and Draven shot him dark looks, the wolf even flashing his fangs, pissed that Morgan seemed even more agitated. Kincade looked like he was cast in stone to stop himself from going to Morgan or kicking his ass. Atlas and Caedmon remained passive, but he knew they were just giving him enough rope…then they would hang him with it if he hurt their mate.
“He wanted to meet you. I wouldn’t be surprised if he found a way for this coven to be assigned to you.” When Morgan tipped her head to the side, he knew she was listening, and it gave him hope. “While he’s not allowed to interfere openly, that doesn’t mean he didn’t find a way to get you help.”
“By trapping us in the wards and almost getting us killed by wendigo?” She cocked a brow at him, her tone snarky, but she was asking questions.
That meant she wanted to believe.
“Where you found a distinguished fae warrior for a mate—someone strong enough to stand against the high fae who want you dead.” The room stilled at his claim, and he pushed home his point. “I can’t help but wonder if he’s the reason why you were invited to the Academy in the first place. He would’ve felt the instant your powers woke. It was only when they started unraveling that you were forced to accept the invite to the Academy, where you met your other mates.”
“What if you’re wrong?” she whispered, as if afraid to say it out loud, a fragile hope in her eyes.
Ascher reached out and tapped her necklace. “And what if he’s been guiding you along this whole time? What if he gave this to your father, who gave it to your mother, who imbued it with magic to help you survive? Just like the key ability is passed through the bloodline, maybe he planned for this to be passed down to you as well. It’s pieces of their soul—your mother’s ability with metal mixed with your father and grandfather’s gift of prophecy.”
Much to his shock, the necklace heated under his touch, the silver chain twisting and melting until a perfect circle formed, holding a stunning family tree in the center. The ancient branches were massive, stretched out wide and crusted with diamonds so bright that he’d swear they sparkled with magic.
Morgan’s eyes widened at the revelation, and she clutched at the necklace. “It only began changing well after I arrived at the Academy. How did you know?”
Ascher rocked back on his heels and wanted to smack himself for not seeing it sooner. “It has a spell on it to keep it hidden. Now that Thanatos revealed himself, I can see his magical signature on it.”
Morgan glanced down with a gobsmacked expression, then rolled her eyes and muttered to herself in annoyance, “Of course! He’s been cloaking himself for the last few weeks as well.”
When she threw herself at him, he wrapped her up in his arms, the starch going out of his spine.
She was going to be okay.
He nodded to the others. They didn’t hesitate to surround her and press close. Kincade met his gaze, his eyes hard with determination. Because whether the other guys knew it or not, they were in deep shit.
“I don’t think Thanatos wants to hurt Morgan, but I doubt he’ll be given much choice.” The guys pulled away, shooting him dubious looks, and Ascher swallowed hard at the horror the god must have endured. “It’s a family duty he’s forced to perform over and over again, probably a curse he suffers for daring to imprison the gods. Nothing comes without a price.”
“Fuck me,” Ryder murmured, his whisky colored eyes glowing as his wolf rose. “So as long as we keep the key to Tartarus safe, Morgan will remain alive.”
“No pressure then, huh?” Draven scowled, looking seconds away from losing his shit, like he wanted to rip the world apart with his bare hands.
A sentiment Ascher shared.
Fire licked along his skin at the thought of their mate being harmed, because a world without Morgan in it could burn in hell for all he cared.
He’d see to it personally.
