Darkest Night: Mercenaries and Magic: A scorching enemies to lovers romance

by Alessa Thorn

  DARKEST NIGHT

  MERCENARIES AND MAGIC

  ALESSA THORN

  Copyright © 2021 by ALESSA THORN

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Editing and Proof Reading by Damoro Design

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  About the Author

  SET

  Prologue

  1

  2

  3

  4

  Also by ALESSA THORN

  1

  It was a steamy August night in Paphos. Athena Edgeworth was perched on a barstool, drinking her third whiskey of the hour in celebration. She wanted to jump up and down, squeal with excitement and victory. She had just acquired one of the best finds of her life…and she couldn't tell anyone.

  Around her, sunburned tourists filled the outdoor bar area and lingered on the sands of Venus Beach. Paphos was where Aphrodite had risen from the sea, birthed from the severed genitals of Uranus. As someone who apparently had been birthed from an icy forest, Athena could relate to her mysterious and bizarre origins.

  Paphos was still marked with the goddess of love, the city sacred to her like the whole island of Cyprus. It was kind of ironic that one of the holiest, and until a few hours ago, lost books on communing with the Christian god had also been hiding on the island.

  Athena had followed hunch after hunch, even after her own team had said she was crazy. Still, she had found the lost teachings of the Syrian Saint Simeon Stylites in a crypt in the St. Nephytos Monastery. Now, it was upstairs, sitting in a cushioned metal briefcase. She couldn't wait to rub it into Dante and Izabella's faces that her gut had been right.

  "Excuse me, is this seat taken?" a voice asked over her right shoulder. Athena turned slightly and appraised the man staring at her.

  He was tall, with jet black hair clipped close to the sides and longer on the top. By his husky accent, she pegged him for being Turkish. He was dressed in a white button-down shirt that was a little rumpled from the heat and had the sleeves rolled up his brown, tattooed forearms.

  He was handsome, sporting an easy smile and groomed stubble, but that wasn't what made Athena pause. It was that the charming and relaxed countenance was a hundred percent bullshit.

  Athena's eyes dropped to the scars on his knuckles and assessed the hint of controlled violence in his aura. Black eyes studied her as carefully, taking in her own slight scars from boxing and blade training on her hands. Athena had been raised with mercenaries and knew a man of violence and darkness when she saw one.

  They were predators meeting, and they both sensed it.

  "It's not taken," Athena replied, sipping her drink and looking away from him. He ordered one of the local beers and seemed to get lost in the football game on the screen above the bar. Athena turned the page of her book without reading it.

  "What brings you to Cyprus?" he asked after fifteen minutes of silence.

  Athena tensed. "Work. You?"

  "Work too. I'm a historian."

  My ass you are.

  "Really? You don't look like one," she replied, turning another page.

  "And what are historians supposed to look like?"

  Athena raised a brow. "I have met a lot of historians, and I've never seen any with two full sleeves of tattoos." She was also sure that some of them were Turkish gang-affiliated, but she didn't want to point that out. Sometimes it was better to act dumb.

  He smiled, a sharp flash of teeth that hit her low. "Remnants of a misspent youth. I'm Kon." He held a long hand out to her.

  "Athena," she replied, shaking his hand. Their eyes narrowed as they hung on, both registering the calluses on each other's palms from weapons training.

  "Goddess of war. I can see it," he said, dropping his voice as he leaned slightly into her space. A ripple of awareness rolled through her. He smelled of something spicy, and under that was sweat and pheromones. Athena wanted to know if he tasted just as good.

  "What kind of business are you in, goddess?" Kon asked, not letting her hand go. Usually, men would've dropped the eye contact by now. Athena's icy blue stare made people uncomfortable. Kon's black eyes held hers like it was a challenge.

  "Acquisitions." It wasn't a lie. She acquired all sorts of things; sometimes, it was even legal.

  "Sounds…interesting," he said.

  "It has its moments. I'm actually celebrating," she replied and wondered why she admitted it.

  "By drinking by yourself? That doesn't sound like a celebration. Where are all your friends?"

  "I'm here alone."

  His expression turned curious. "Is that so? No husband or boyfriend to keep an eye on you?"

  Athena shrugged. "Just me."

  "How fortuitous. I'm here alone too. Do you want to be my friend?" Kon asked. Athena knew she should take her hand back, but his grip was still holding her firm.

  "And what makes you think that being your friend is going to be more interesting than my book?" she asked.

  "The fact that you haven't read the last three pages you just turned." Kon leaned over, giving Athena a delicious view of the tattooed chest down the front of his shirt. His breath was warm on her ear. "And if you take me upstairs, I'll give you the fucking you so badly need."

  Athena forced herself to laugh, even though her thighs pressed together on the barstool. "Has that line ever worked?"

  "I don't know; I've never used it before. But I can guarantee, if you take me to your room, I'll have you screaming in no time." Kon picked up her drink and drained it. "Let's go."

  "I haven't agreed to it yet." Athena's heart pounded as his black eyes roamed over her, stripping her bare with a mere glance.

  "Yes, you have. It's why I still have this hand of yours." Kon lifted her wrist to his mouth to taste her pulse. Without breaking eye contact with her, he scraped his teeth over it hard enough to sting and make Athena give an involuntary whimper. His smile widened, no doubt feeling her heartbeat jump under his tongue.

  She knew he was dangerous, but so was she, and he was right; she did need a good fucking. Her last few hookups had been so boring, she had wondered why she had bothered. This man would not be boring.

  Kon sensed the moment she gave in, placed some notes on the counter to cover their drinks, and tugged her off the barstool.

  They stood opposite each other, sizing each other up like they were getting ready for a fight, not a fuck. Neither one of them spoke.

  Athena's gaze flicked back up to his, and she smirked in challenge, letting the public face she wore in the bar slip off.


  Athena was a wolf in sheep's clothing, and she did what she had never done with a lover before. She let him see her own violence and darkness. Other men would be backing out, making excuses, and walking away. Kon didn't. He just flashed his teeth in a not-quite smile.

  He followed her upstairs to her room, a coiled ball of energy that had the hair on her neck rising. As soon as her door swung open, he pushed her up against a wall and kissed her roughly. It was tongues and teeth and taking.

  Athena let go of any semblance of politeness. She bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. Kon hissed, grabbed her wrists tight, and dragged them above her head.

  Athena leaned forward and licked the blood off his bottom lip. Kon's eyes darkened.

  "Oh, goddess, you are fucking gagging for it, aren't you? I could smell it on you in the bar. Been in that cage of yours for a while, have you?"

  Athena snarled softly, brought her leg up behind his, and knocked out his knees. He controlled his fall, tugging her with him and rolling to pin her to the bed. A soft chuckle vibrated in his chest.

  "If that's how you want to play, let's do it right," he said. Kon lifted his knee slowly up between her thighs and ground it against her mound, making pleasure streak through her as she canted her hips up against him.

  Kon lifted his knee higher across her stomach and used it to pin her down. He released her wrists and grabbed her breasts hard enough to make her gasp. His fingers twisted in the flimsy fabric of her cotton sundress and tore it in one long rip down the front.

  "Well now, what do we have here?" he purred, reaching for the small knife that was nestled between her breasts.

  Athena always carried a knife somewhere, a product of her upbringing. He pulled the blade free of its leather sheath. It was only as long as Athena's pinkie, but it was big enough to do damage in hands as well trained as her own.

  "A girl can never be too careful. There are all kinds of bad men out there," she said, fluttering her eyelashes.

  "And in here," Kon replied, sliding the blade under the front of her bra and lifting it. The lace shredded, and her breasts fell free. She didn't move, her heart pounding as he moved his knee back down between her thighs, dragging the remnants of her dress from her.

  "I hope you have spare panties packed," he said, lip curling. He slid the tiny blade under the fabric on her hips and cut the sides. With one casual flick, he sent the knife flying across the room and buried it into the bathroom door. Athena's nipples went hard, and he shook his head.

  "Where have you been hiding all my life?" he mused.

  "With my husband and four kids," she lied breathlessly. He ran his lips and stubble over the curve of her stomach.

  "He's going to be devastated when he learns it's me you masturbate over every time he fails to please you," Kon replied and lowered his mouth over her ruined panties. Athena squirmed as his warm breath soaked into her pussy, his teeth closing over the lace and pulling it free.

  With a quick, rough move, Kon grabbed the underside of her thighs, forced her legs up and wide, and held them tight so she couldn't move. Athena never let a man have such control over her. She wanted to move, throw him off her, and take over, but then the tip of Kon's tongue flicked once over her clit, and she whimpered.

  "Already wet for me, and I've barely touched you," Kon growled, pinning her tighter when her hips arched up. "Squirm all you want, goddess. I'm not letting you go until you're dripping into my mouth."

  Athena swore at him just as his tongue went back on her, licking and laving until her eyes rolled back into her head. His stubble and teeth were causing pinpricks of pain mixed with the pleasure of his tongue. Athena fucking loved it.

  Kon's tongue speared inside of her, working her into a frenzy. Her hands tangled in his hair, holding him down on her as her hips rocked up, thrusting in time with his tongue. He looked up at her, dark eyes shining, and bit down on her clit. Athena screamed as an orgasm shot through her hard enough to leave her shaking.

  "You're Russian?" Kon asked. "Your accent is British."

  "I'm…from everywhere," she replied, trying to catch her breath. She hadn't slipped into her birth tongue for years. She moaned as he blew softly over her swollen flesh and released her legs.

  Athena lurched forward, grabbed him around the throat, and rolled him onto his back. He laughed, hands gripping her hips.

  "Well, Athena from everywhere, are you going to just sit there, or are you going to fuck me?" he asked.

  Athena ripped his shirt open and ran her nails down the tattooed muscle and fine dark hair. She opened his belt and pants, dragging his hard dick free. She didn't bother to even get his pants all the way off before she was lowering herself down on him.

  "Fucking hell, goddess," he groaned.

  Athena couldn't talk; his dick filling her up had robbed her of the ability to speak. She rocked forward, one hand pinned to his sternum. He went to raise his head, but her other hand came to the base of his throat, holding him down.

  "No. I'm in charge now," she snarled and began to ride him. She ground her hips into his in a slow circle, and Kon swore passionately.

  Athena grinned. He was Turkish.

  Kon's hands stroked from her hips up to squeeze her breasts, fingers tightening on her nipples.

  Kon sat up and kissed her until she tasted his blood in her mouth from the cut on his lip. Two of his fingers moved between them, rubbing her clit in slow circles that had her sobbing. He pulled away right when she was about to come and brushed his pleasure-drenched fingers over her lips and into her mouth.

  "Suck," he growled, and she did. "Damn, baby, I can't wait to get that mouth around my cock."

  Athena closed her teeth around his fingers, and he hissed, pulling them free. His kiss was punishing as he flipped her onto her back, lifted one of her legs over his shoulder, and slammed into her.

  Athena was moaning louder than she had in years, Kon thrusting so hard into her that she could feel him hitting her limit inside of her. His fingers clasped around her neck, holding her tight. She gripped his perfectly muscled ass, dragging him harder into her as she reached her peak.

  "That's it, goddess, come on my cock. Let me feel you lose control," he commanded, husky voice all dominance. Athena's inner walls clamped around him, making his eyes widen as her orgasm exploded through her. She was breaking apart, screaming his name as she rode him through it.

  "Fucking hell, goddess," Kon said, kissing her moans from her mouth. His hand went between them, toying with her clit again as he took control. He dragged her up onto his lap, and she groaned, the change in position almost painful. Kon gripped her close to him, dick pounding up into her. His mouth dragged down her neck, licking at her sweat.

  Athena jolted in sudden pain as he bit hard into her shoulder and came deep inside of her. Kon was trembling. He pulled his mouth away with a loud suck, eyes wide, no doubt matching hers.

  Athena had known he would be good, but she was still shaking as he lowered her back onto the bed. They were both sheened in sweat, with dazed expressions on their faces.

  What in the fuck was that?

  "Catch your breath, goddess. I'm going to need to be inside of you again before this night is out," Kon said, curling a finger around one of her sweaty blonde locks. Athena leaned over and licked at his nipple, tasting the salt and spice tang of his sweat.

  "You have ten minutes to recover, or I'm kicking you out."

  Athena woke to the hot sun pouring through the windows and onto her bare ass. Her hand stretched out against the sheets and found them cool and empty. Her eyes snapped open.

  She was a light sleeper, had to be in her profession, but she hadn't felt Kon get out of bed. He had fucked her until she had passed out, but she couldn't help feeling a pang of something that he hadn't stayed.

  Athena looked about in a fuzzy daze. There wasn't a pillow left on the bed, the sheets a mangled clump in one corner. Her eyes lifted to the metal case she had placed on the small desk. She sat up, noting that the po
sition was slightly different than when she left it.

  Athena launched herself out of bed, naked and panicked. She unclipped the lid and opened it. Her heart stopped, and her vision hazed red. The case was empty, except for a note written on the hotel stationery.

  Better luck next time, Edgeworth.

  2

  Over the past three years, Kon had often regretted stealing that single tome from Athena Edgeworth. Usually, it was when he was nursing a wound she had given him or when their game of cat and mouse had cost more time and money than he wanted to part with. He had thought that she would lick her wounds after Paphos, and their paths would never cross again.

  He had never been so mistaken in his life.

  After Paphos, Kon had gotten curious and had done some light research on the enigmatic Miss Edgeworth, finding out just how badly he had fucked up.

  Athena Edgeworth was the sole daughter of Silas Edgeworth, one of the most ruthless and calculating mercenaries dirty money could buy. She had traveled the world with him, learning from him and every other goddamn hard-ass, assassin, gangster, and soldier her father worked with. The Edgeworths were spoken about in whispers of equal parts awe and fear.

  And he had fucked her, both figuratively and literally.

  Kon thought that if they ever did see each other again, she would put a bullet in his head. When they did, she had put one in his leg instead and had stolen from him a ring that had belonged to the Sufi mystic, Al-Ghazali.