Page 58 of Guardians of the Assassins
Her throat tightened at the thought of him being all alone in the world, with no one to trust or rely upon.
Then her resolve firmed.
That was before.
Now he had them, and she wasn’t going to let him down. She pulled away from Atlas and grabbed Caedmon’s arm before he could vanish altogether. “You’re an assassin like us. You belong with us, and you know it. If you try to leave, we will follow. If they come for you, we will fight.”
Caedmon kept his back to her, his shoulders slumped, his chin on his chest. “I can handle whatever the fae want. I can?—”
“What do they want?” Draven interrupted, his blue eyes stormy. Energy hummed around him, the need for action making him twitchy.
“To take my magic,” Caedmon answered automatically.
“To use him like a tool, like they used the wolves,” Atlas replied almost at the same time.
They both glanced at each other, and her stomach clenched like she’d been sucker punched. “What are you not telling me?”
Thanatos cleared his throat, drawing her attention. “Fae consider themselves better than everyone else, having generations to perfect the idyllic version of themselves. Consequences are severe for any who fall outside those perimeters. Despite all he had sacrificed, Caedmon had always skirted the edges of society.”
The god pushed away from the wall where he’d been leaning, his presence taking over the room.
“Since he’s been both blessed and cursed by the gods, the fae no longer consider him elven. It will be open season on him.”
Anxiety sent her pulse pounding in her ears, and it was all she could do not to rip open a portal and go after the fae.
Kill them before they could tell anyone else that he was alive.
As if reading her mind, Thanatos stepped between her and the portal sealed. “They’ll try to control him first.”
Morgan snorted at the thought of anyone trying to force Caedmon to bend to their rules.
He only did what he wanted.
Humor danced in Thanatos’s bright green eyes for only a second before it faded. “If he refuses to obey, then they’ll breed him in hopes that his abilities will pass to his offspring, where the children can be taught obedience from birth.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
RYDER
Morgan stilled and stared blankly at the wall as she processed the information. She didn’t move, didn’t talk, her body strung tight as she struggled to keep her rage in check. Ryder inhaled deeply as her magic thickened the air, and he wrapped his arms around her, hoping that his beast could soothe her agitation.
The last thing they needed was for her to go off half-cocked and get herself killed.
He shuddered at the thought, tightening his hold and wrapping himself around her tighter. Magic from the void rose from her skin, brushing over him like he’d been ducked under the pounding spray of an icy waterfall.
It only lasted a second before it recognized him, the touch turning into a caress that made his cock harden and a growl rumble in his chest. Morgan relaxed at the sound, leaning into him, and he buried his face into the curve of her neck to resist the impulse to lay claim to her all over again.
Something about seeing her dressed up in the colorful outfit made his protective instincts kick into overdrive. He knew she could fucking kick his ass without breaking a sweat, could command his wolf to sit and beg.
Seeing her walking down the steps, covered in the pretty wrapping, made his breath catch. He wanted to strip her out of the gown and stake his ownership of her by rubbing his scent over every inch of her body.
The other guys weren’t in much better condition, prowling around her, touching her every chance they got like possessive assholes.
Morgan stirred in his arms, and he tightened his hold. He inhaled her calming pack scent, trailing his hands over the curve of her hips, before reluctantly releasing her. He turned her gently, lifting her chin until she gazed up at him with tortured, violet eyes, and he swallowed hard.
“You have every right to be furious at us for keeping things from you.” A cute furrow appeared between her brows at the reminder. “You have the right to be pissed that the fae are trying to kill you for just being born.” He knew he was getting to her when her shoulders slumped, and he edged closer until her lush curves rested against him. “You are in control. You get to decide who will be your mates. You can choose to fight, and we will follow you. Or you can trust fate. They sent us to you because you needed us—and we needed you just as much.”
She squirmed against him, and he sucked in a harsh breath when his cock throbbed. He gritted his teeth against the temptation, her wiggling due more to being uncomfortable than any lust. As if understanding his dilemma, Draven crowded around her back, wrapping his arms around her to distract her.
