Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3)

by Stacey Brutger

  Before entering the school, Morgan automatically glanced up at the rooftop and spotted the gargoyle crouched along the edge, his intense gaze focused off into the distance, as if searching for something.

  Mal.

  He left them just before the sun rose, and she’d been worried that he wouldn’t make it to the Academy before being turned back to stone. Loneliness clung to him, the only thing driving him was his sense of duty, and Morgan felt responsible for him, because she was sure the danger that seemed to always hover around her must have called him from his slumber.

  While she was grateful for his protection, her instincts told her that she wasn’t the one he was waiting for.

  His demeanor was fierce, but underneath lingered a sense of profound loss, and she wished she could communicate with him somehow and help.

  “Well, no sense in standing out in the cold.” Stanley jumped down from the flat stone railing lining the stairs, his yellow, feral eyes tracking her, his tale swishing as he swaggered toward the door. “Everyone knows you’re back, and the place is abuzz with the news, especially since the queen had a meltdown in front of everyone.”

  The cat hadn’t been in residence long, but he’d gained weight, and his mangy, orange-striped fur had a sheen to it now, but he still wore his battle scars proudly. “No sense in hiding or trying to sneak in. They’re waiting.”

  As if he were the royal guard dog, he lifted his head proudly and guided her forward. The guys were waiting for her, and as soon as she saw the crowd waiting, she was doubly grateful for their presence. The entrance hall was stuffed with students randomly milling around, the lot of them snapping to attention when she entered.

  The door thudded shut behind her, and she bumped into a solid body, only then realizing that she must have taken a step back.

  “Steady.” Ascher whispered, and squeezed her shoulder.

  Stanley strode boldly into the middle of the room, his wings ruffling out to make an impressive sight. “Welcome home the champions. Queen Morgan.”

  To her surprise, a cheer boomed and echoed around the room, and she barely resisted the urge to thump Stanley on the head.

  When she hurried toward the staircase, the men immediately went into formation around her, and the crowd parted. Uncomfortable under the weight of hundreds of stares, she barely resisted the urge to use her powers and skip away. As if sensing her unease, Atlas and Ryder edged closer, their large bodies blocking out nearly everyone as they passed.

  Only when they climbed up the stairs to their dorm did the crowd begin to disperse.

  “They’re curious about you,” a voice commented from behind her, and Morgan stiffened.

  “Hello, Harper.” Very reluctantly, Morgan turned to face the witch who tried to make her first weeks in school a living hell. Too bad Morgan really didn’t give a shit what others thought, or Harper’s plan might have worked.

  But instead of the fury she expected to see, Harper seemed almost hesitant. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s true, isn’t it?” Harper waved her hand to indicate the school, her face a little green, as if recalling how much of a catty bitch she’d been in the past. “You really are royalty.”

  Morgan expected simpering from the likes of Harper, not fear, and unease crept through her. She stomped back down the stairs, wincing when Harper flinched and barely held her ground. “I’m nothing yet. I have no intention of leaving the Academy. I don’t want to be treated differently. I don’t want your fear, and I don’t want to be worshiped. I want to be the warrior I was trained to be.”

  With each word spoken, Harper seemed to thaw and some of her spunk returned. “Royalty has the power of life or death over everyone, and usually kills others for the slightest offense.”

  Morgan raised an eyebrow at the challenge. “If I want someone dead, they’ll know about it because my blade will be at their throat. I’m here at the Academy to hunt, just like everyone else. I don’t threaten others to get my way. If people do their jobs, we’ll get along fine.”

  Harper smiled sharply, her eyes sparkling. “Well, don’t tell everyone else that. A little healthy fear would do your reputation a bit of good.” Then she turned serious. “We knew you survived the night when the bitch queen nearly destroyed part of the castle during the epic fit she threw. She’s not going to take the defeat sitting down. She’s throwing a royal hissy fit, and will use everything in her arsenal at you tonight. You’ll watch her back.” She was speaking more to the guys than to her, and Morgan was stunned at her change in attitude.

  “Why do you care?”

  Harper hesitated, her expression flashing vulnerable for a second, quickly replaced by a moue of distaste. “Despite your shitty ability with magic, you’ve been good for the Academy. After the influx of paranormals from Mount Olympus, we don’t want any of the royals to come here and take over. If we need to have someone in charge, it’s better the devil we know.”

  She turned and began to saunter down the stairs, then paused and looked over her shoulder. “A few of us are keeping an eye on things at the school while you’re away. You need to watch yourself. The queen has spies everywhere, and if she or any of her minions catch you alone, I doubt anyone will find your body.”

  When she vanished around the corner, Morgan could only stare after her. Kincade grabbed her hand and tugged her up the stairs. “What just happened?”

  “She was feeling you out, judging whether you’re friend or foe.”

  That was part of it, but not all of it. “She wanted to see if it was true.”

  “Oh, she knew it was true. Anyone who’s met you knows it’s true.” Kincade just chuckled under his breath when she shot him a puzzled look. “You have a way about you that attracts people.”

  Morgan snorted. “Yeah—creepy, power-hungry psychos.”

  She was tired of people trying to sacrifice her. She could still feel the cuts on her skin, the way the metal bit into her flesh…and she couldn’t stop the way her memories flashed to Ryder nearly bleeding out just a foot from her…or the way Atlas nearly lost himself to his darker self.

  All because of her tainted past.

  Now the truth about her lineage was out, she needed to find a fast, guaranteed way to unlock her powers if she was going to have any hope of protecting her mates, much less the Academy. “None of you would be in constant danger if I hadn’t come blundering in your life.”

  The guys heading up the stairs halted before turning to surrounded her. All humor fled from Kincade’s expression. “Our job has always put us in constant danger. It’s the life we chose. A life we were trained to survive. None of us regret the day you walked into our lives.”

  “You aren’t the only one surrounded by darkness,” Draven muttered, then came back down the stairs until the rest of the world vanished around her as she focused on him. “But you are the only light in my world. Don’t you dare say you regret meeting us. Because we had nothing else in our lives, we literally trained to be the best hunters.” He leaned down until his forehead touched hers. “Or maybe we were just waiting for you. None of us expected to be chosen as a mate to someone like you.”

  “Like me?” Morgan cocked her head, not sure she wanted to know more. The witches she knew were heartless bitches, although her opinion had altered a bit in the last few weeks when she saw witches and hunters join together to fight for the Academy.

  She wasn’t the mate they must have been expecting, the truth making her chest feel tight.

  Ascher growled and pulled her away from the others. “What the idiot is saying is you’re more than we could ever have dreamed. We don’t care whether you remain an orphan or choose to be a member of the royal family. To us you are more than we could ever have imagined. I didn’t give up my family to stay here…I stayed here because you are my family.”

  Ryder nodded his head. “My kind are servants. It’s a miracle that you came into my life…that you even noticed me…and I will forever be grateful to be a part of your life. I don’t stay
because of your power or lack of it. I stay because you see me as more than a servant, more than a beast, you see me as an equal…and you love me.”

  A dusky red bloomed on his cheeks, his whisky brown eyes glowing as he gazed at her without a hint of his normal shyness. She touched his face lightly, her heart hiccupping against her ribs as she peered at the others, her throat too thick to speak.

  “Come, it’s time for a shower.” Atlas held out a hand to her, and she took it gratefully. The others disappeared into their room, but Atlas lingered by the door, observing her until she couldn’t stand it anymore.

  “Spit it out.”

  “You have a right to be afraid. The world we come from is savage. They won’t ever stop coming after you.”

  The warm glow of the guys’ confessions turned to ash, and she plopped down on the bed. “What do I do?”

  Atlas raised a brow, so completely aristocratic it could make a person feel inferior. Except she knew it was an act…he was even more alone than her if that was possible. He needed her and the team just as much as she did. For some reason he saw something in her of worth, even before her heritage was revealed. And though his people considered him a failure, she knew they were wrong. He was the best of them. They just couldn’t see it. He was perfectly imperfect.

  Despite his rumpled, slightly damp clothes and fishy smell, he was stunning. “You’re a fighter—you fight. Leaving isn’t going to keep us safe. Only you can do that.”

  Morgan scowled at him, wrenching off her shoe to toss it at him. “Your pep talk sucks.”

  “And doubts don’t suit you.” He easily caught the boot, then placed it by the door. “You wanted us. Now we’re yours.” He stalked across the room until he was towering over her. “And you’re ours.”

  He held out his hand, and she placed her fingers trustingly in his grip without hesitation. He hauled her to her feet until she fell against him and into the circle of his arms. Morgan was so shocked at his affection that she gingerly leaned against his chest, marveling at the unexpected hardness.

  “Harper was here to see which side of you is real…the hunter who saved the Academy or a royal who had come here to destroy it.”

  “What?” She tried to pull away, but he only tightened his grip.

  “True royalty is very rare. Dealings with them often end in a bloody battle.”

  Morgan opened her mouth to protest, but memories of the dragon she fought and killed rose in her mind, and she huffed out a breath. She didn’t have a leg to stand on and he knew it.

  “There are never more than a handful of royals alive at any one time, because the others have…untimely deaths…at some point. People are either going to be for you or against you. A silent war will take place—those who think you’re unworthy of the power and plot to kill you, and those who will spy and fight to keep you alive.”

  “And if I don’t want a war?” She stopped struggling to pull away, leaning against him when her legs shook. She didn’t want things to change, especially not if it meant she would lose her men to a stupid war over a title she didn’t even want.

  Atlas glanced down, pity in his expression. “You don’t get a choice. It all comes down to power. If you have it, someone will want to take it from you. If you prove too weak to protect yourself, you die.”

  Fuck…

  “What do you suggest?” Morgan was surprised when he released her, then set her aside. She immediately missed his warmth, trying desperately to curb her desire to throw herself back into his arms.

  Atlas grabbed her chin and tipped her head up. “You do what you do best…you fight for what you want. The choice is yours. The choice has always been yours. What do you want?”

  Morgan couldn’t help it, she grabbed his wrist, then went up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. He froze, his green eyes dilating, the dark burnt umber spreading. As his emotions rose, so did his darker self. Her heart rolled over in her chest, and she couldn’t resist brushing her lips over his again. He panted, revealing his slight fangs, and his chest heaved. “Run.”

  Morgan blinked, sure that she must have misunderstood him.

  Instead of blushing, his pale skin took on a hint of lavender as his head lowered to whisper against her lips. “Unless you want me to fuck you here on this bed right now, you’ll want to run.”

  Heat flared in her gut at the blunt proposition, and she froze, not because she was afraid, but because she couldn’t get the image of them on the bed out of her mind. She wanted that closeness between them…she just flat out wanted him. A growl rumbled up from his chest, and he pushed her backwards until she hit the wall, his arms caging her in the process.

  “Did you know elves are perfectionists?” He dipped his head, licking at the sensitive spot under her ear, and she couldn’t help tipping her head to give him better access. But instead of accepting the invitation, he lifted his head to whisper to her. “We practice over and over until we get things just right.” He ran the tip of his nose along her jaw, inhaling deeply. “It could take days, possibly weeks, or even longer before I’m satisfied that I could bring you to pleasure.”

  Morgan swallowed hard, staring at his lips hovering just temptingly out of reach, and found herself leaning forward, desperate for the future he described. “Atlas—”

  “You’re not ready.” He closed his eyes, as if to shut out the picture of her. “Run…before I change my mind.”

  Despite her body’s protests, Morgan knew that he was right. She loved them, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for more…not until she could prove to herself that she could keep them safe. Not until she knew for sure what the king’s plans were for her and her mates.

  With great reluctance, Morgan ducked under his arm, and escaped to the showers.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Morgan wandered aimlessly around the dorm while the guys finished with their showers. She wasn’t ready to go to bed yet, not until they were all settled. The guys had integrated themselves into her life so much, she found herself a bit lonely and restless when they weren’t near. She peered into each room as she passed, but couldn’t make herself intrude more. They made it clear that she was welcome at any time, but it still felt like snooping when they weren’t there.

  The sound of water falling should’ve been soothing, but after spending the night fighting unstoppable creatures from the sea, it left her a little on edge. She paused outside of Ryder’s room when her gaze landed on a small metal rabbit.

  The rabbit she’d created.

  He had so few possessions, she was surprised he kept it.

  Unable to help herself, she walked into the room and picked up the small animal, feeling it warm immediately to her touch. It was so smooth, she’d swear that it practically wiggled in her grip.

  Ryder stopped dead in the doorway of his room, the towel he was using to dry his hair hanging limply in his hands. His chest puffed up, his beast showing off, and his cock hardened when he saw Morgan standing in his room, touching his stuff.

  He must have made a sound. She whirled, then froze when she saw him. Not wanting her to feel crowded, he angled his shoulders to seem smaller, giving her access to leave if she wanted, his heart thumping loud in his ears.

  When her eyes dropped to his chest, he didn’t hunch like he would around others, but stood up straighter. He wasn’t bashful, he just didn’t like the calculating look other women cast him. Morgan was different. She didn’t want him to protect her, didn’t want him as a servant, and didn’t see him as inferior. Even in wolf form, she saw him as a friend and companion.

  Being a shifter kept his body in shape.

  Being in top physical form was a requirement as a hunter.

  But when Morgan watched him, her eyes full of hunger, he couldn’t help but being pleased about all his hard work to keep in shape. When she began to shift uncomfortably, he latched onto the first thing that came into his mind.

  “You said that I could have it.”

  “Huh?” She blinked up at him
in confusion, and it was all he could do not to touch her.

  Instead, he kept his distance and nodded toward the rabbit in her hand, unwilling to take a step closer. He was afraid that if he touched her, he wouldn’t ever stop. He tossed the towel on the bed, then snagged a shirt sitting at the edge of his desk.

  Once he pulled the shirt over his head, more of his control returned, and he nodded toward the rabbit in her hand again. “You said I could have it.”

  “Of course. But why?”

  She peered up at him with such confusion, his heart rolled over. It was hard to hold himself back from stealing a kiss from her…but one wouldn’t be enough, so he contented himself by looking his fill. “Because you made it.”

  The light blush that filled her cheeks enchanted him. She lifted her arm, opening up her fist, until the rabbit sat in her palm. Even as he watched, its ears twitched, and the rabbit lifted its hind leg and began to scratch itself under its jaw.

  Shock covered her face, and she automatically jerked her hand back.

  Ryder lunged forward and caught the rabbit in one hand and her fingers in the other. He straightened, surprised to feel the warm metal squirming in his grip. When he held up his arm, the rabbit’s twitching feet hung out the bottom of his fist. Seconds later, the rabbit popped his head out, his nose twitching.

  “How?” Morgan spoke softly, as if afraid to break the spell.

  Ryder carefully set the rabbit on the shelf. When he released it, it hopped twice, and rose on his hind legs, its movements growing stiffer until he was once again just metal. When Ryder glanced down, he was startled to find Morgan standing nearly in his arms. “Your magic created it. It can sense when you’re near.”

  “I’m leaking magic, aren’t I?”

  Instead of sounding pleased, the scent of her fear thickened the air, and his wolf howled with the need to be set free and protect. It took him a few seconds to get his beast under control enough for him to speak. “The magic won’t change you.”