Page 54 of Guardians of the Assassins
He’d been testing it out subtly, but every attempt to use his power basically siphoned the magic from anyone near him.
The only exception was Morgan and her mates.
He was like a null, and if the paranormal world ever discovered the truth, they would hunt him down and eliminate the threat.
All that control vanished when Morgan became hurt, and he surrendered to the chaotic magic, unleashing every ounce of it. It blasted through the room like a sonic boom. Chairs flew and crashed into the wall so hard, they splintered. Vines rippled, tearing off leaves. The table skidded a few feet across the floor.
He had just enough control to send it toward the threat.
Morgan’s mates cursed as they caught the tail end of the blast, bracing themselves under the onslaught. Hell, Kincade and Ryder hardly even reacted, completely unaffected by the chaos.
Unfortunately, Aoibh and her men managed to put up a shield in time to save their lives. The shield cracked after a few seconds, forcing them back, practically flinging them out the door, where they crumpled.
Three managed to climb to their feet, ready to throw magic in retaliation. He quickly stepped in front of Morgan, ready to take the brunt of their wrath…only the rest of Morgan’s mates had stepped forward, already in action. Caedmon could still sense the fae magic swirling around the room, but Morgan was doing something to keep it at bay.
Atlas lit up with magic, the vegetation around the room rising to his call. Vines shot out, capturing two of the fae beforethey could retaliate, the cords like a boa constrictor wrapping up around their legs and trapping their arms.
Draven and Kincade remained behind to protect Morgan, while Ryder and Ascher leapt toward the two remaining guards, aggression pouring off the two, their beasts more in control then their human side with their mate being threatened.
He knew the sensation well, his own beast was clawing him up inside, wanting to shed his human skin and rip apart those who dared threaten his mate and bathe in their blood.
Aoibh rose to her full height, but instead of outrage, something worse was reflected in her eyes—possessiveness. She wouldn’t stop until she got what she wanted.
Him.
The guards pulled back at her signal. Fire erupted from one of the two guards still bound, burning away the bindings. Draven’s blue eyes darkened like a thunderstorm, and quickly doused the flames before the fire could be used against them.
Whatever attack they were under vanished, and Caedmon caught Morgan close when her legs threatened to give out. She leaned trustingly against his chest, and he closed his eyes at the feel of her in his arms, inhaling her intoxicating scent of honeysuckle and magic. Her eyes fluttered as she gazed up at him, the violet color instantly capturing his full attention, the rest of the world falling away.
She didn’t jerk away from him in revulsion.
There was no fear or disgust.
And the last piece of his heart that he’d tried to protect for fear that she would reject him was now completely hers.
He was hers.
Now.
Forever.
Always.
Her hand fisted the front of his shirt, her touch possessive, and a darkness entered her eyes. She glanced across the room as the fae struggled to get to their feet. They looked shell-shocked at the change of events.
Morgan’s voice was harsh when she spoke. “You sent him to protect the gate. To save your own ass, you sacrificed him like he was nothing. No regret. No remorse. Now that he’s alive and healing, you want him back. Not fucking happening.”
She stepped in front of him, a proud warrior, and his chest swelled with pride at the sight of his beautiful mate.
She was worth all the pain, all the hardship.
And if given a choice, he’d do it all again, just for the chance to be worthy of being her mate.
“It’s past time that you leave,” Morgan said, crossing her arms.
It wasn’t a suggestion.
Morgan was simply magnificent as she stood up to renowned elven warriors without even batting a lash.
