Kincade glanced at her, his face hard, but none of the guys moved an inch or reached for their newfound weapons. “He’s in full mating lust. He’s denied the mating for too long. Until he’s staked his claim, he will see us as a threat and fight us.”
Morgan tensed at the thought of the others being in danger. “What do I need to do?”
“You have a choice.” Kincade fisted his hands, while the others slowly fanned out. “You can either allow him to claim you or we remove him.”
None of the guys were smiling.
The moment the guys started moving, Atlas tucked her closer, angling his body to keep her protected. Morgan was ashamed the guys thought she would prefer them to fight rather than accept Atlas as her mate, but she couldn’t blame them.
“What do you need me to do?”
Everyone stopped, and Kincade’s eyes snapped toward her. “Sex would be the easiest way.”
Morgan swallowed hard, unable to stop wondering if that’s why her connection to the guys had deteriorated so rapidly. She couldn’t help but feel like a failure for her neglect.
“We don’t have time if we want to leave before sunrise. It is not a decision you want rushed, and later regret.” Ascher shot a look full of daggers at Kincade. “A blood exchange will work temporarily, until he can get himself under control. Then you can decide what you want.”
Though her body demanded she take what Atlas was offering, Ascher was right.
The last thing she wanted was for Atlas to regret making the connection permanent in case he changed his mind.
“A bite.” Ryder nodded, his only concern seeming to be for her. “He needs to feel connected to you.”
She shivered at the lust in Ryder’s whisky-colored eyes, the yearning in them wrenching her heartstrings.
Her stomach somersaulted at being the center of their attention, and she resolutely turned away until it was only her and Atlas. She leaned forward and licked his throat, feeling him jerk at the contact. He peered at her from the corners of his eyes, not ready to take his attention away from those who wanted to take her from him.
“Atlas.” He slowly turned his head toward her, his hips settling more firmly between her thighs, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Need burned through her at the contact, and she unconsciously rolled her hips, seeking more.
Before she lost her nerve, Morgan trailed her finger down his cheek. When he leaned into her touch, a pleased hum in his throat, she brought his mouth down on hers, coaxing him into forgetting about the others by taking her time, kissing his bottom lip, then top, enjoying the way he stiffened, as if struggling to let her take the lead. When he opened his mouth, she couldn’t resist the invitation, almost forgetting her purpose. Her tongue touched his fang, and he growled, his hips thrusting forward. Knowing he was seconds away from losing control, she nicked her tongue on his fangs, relishing his passion.
He flinched at the taste of her blood, jerking back from the kiss, his chest heaving as he struggled to find his breath.
“I hurt you.” He stared down at her, completely devastated.
The Atlas she knew had returned.
“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to walk away again over a fucking drop of blood.” Morgan unwrapped herself from him, already missing his warmth, but grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together when he tried to turn away from her. “We’re both trained as assassins. We’re going to get hurt. We survive. Together. We did it your way while you kept your distance. It didn’t work. We’re going to do it my way now.”
He gazed down at their joined hands for a full minute, before finally looking up at her, the yearning in his expression making her heart feel like it was ready to explode. “You said you need my help.”
“What?” Morgan blinked at his question, struggling to follow the jump in the conversation. Then what he said registered…he was going to stay. Loki leapt on her shoulder, nuzzling her behind her ear, and she grinned.
“What trouble did you find in the short time you were on your own?” Atlas seemed amused and exasperated, his eyes flicking toward Loki.
“Not him.” She scowled, her brain firing in fits and starts as she tried to bury her lust until a more appropriate time. She met his gaze, biting her lips in indecision, then turned and tugged her hair over her shoulder and pulled up her shirt. “Him.”
Chapter Thirteen
The phoenix fluttered against her back in agitation, his claws gouging into her flesh, as if terrified the guys would try to peel him off. When none of them moved or spoke, she tugged her shirt down self-consciously. “Remember when I thought the elves were hunting something in the forest? I think I now know what they were chasing.”
When she turned to face them, she halted at the looks of horror on their faces. She swallowed hard, her spirits plummeting. “Not good, huh?”
Ascher cupped her jaw, pressing his forehead against hers. “Beautiful, you’re bound to the phoenix. They’re very rare, and even more dangerous when they take their full form.”
“It was an accident.” She inhaled the scent of charcoal and flames, allowing herself to relax. “They were going to kill him, so I tucked him in my shirt to protect him. He’s free to go…just tell me how to release him.”
He rubbed his fingers over her brows, his shattered expression telling her without words that it was too late. “When a phoenix manifests, they are full of fire and magic until their flame burns out…usually killing the host in the process.”
Morgan was stunned. “You said usually.”
He shook his head. “Think of it like an atomic bomb going off.”
The phoenix fluttered his feathers, the weight of him heavy against her skin, heat licking along her back, and she didn’t know if the bird was trying to offer her comfort or give her a warning. Morgan backed away from the group. No way in hell would she take them with her when she detonated. “Change of plans. I’ll go—”
“You’re not going anywhere without us.” Kincade marched up to her, gripped her head in his callused hands, and crushed his lips against hers, stealing her ability to think.
Atlas came next, performing an elegant bow despite his battered appearance, grabbing her hand and brushing his thumb over her palm in a light caress.
Draven’s eyes were as stormy as the sea as he approached, and he gave her a hard hug. “I’m not letting you go off alone to have all the fun.”
“You are crazy if you think—”
Ryder snarled, cutting off her words. His eyes splintered as he struggled to contain his wolf as his rage almost took over. She slipped around the other men and approached him cautiously. She didn’t fear for her safety—she was terrified for his.
When she was close enough, she very carefully slipped her arms around his waist, then hugged him tight. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as she lay her head against him, rubbing her cheek across his chest.
“Mine.” The word was garbled through his fangs, but she understood. He grabbed her chin with claw-tipped fingers, and lifted her head. “I will track you down and follow, no matter where you go.”
While Morgan wanted to smack them for their idiocy, their support made the back of her throat ache.
Leaving them would gut her.
She would need to figure out a way to mask the markings to keep them safe. No way in hell was she going to let them stupidly sacrifice themselves to die at her side.
Before she went off like some damned Fourth of July fireworks, she would save them all by figuring out what the hell escaped Tartarus.
“We should get going.” She untangled herself from Ryder, then headed for the door.
“Morgan.” Her hand tightened on the knob at Kincade’s amused voice. “It won’t work.”
She scowled, then cleared her face and glanced at them over her shoulder, blinking innocently. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He strode toward her with the lethal grace one could only get from being a trained fighter. He smiled at her, his amusement stealing
her breath. She couldn’t remember the last time he smiled like that…if he ever had.
“What he means is you’re not leaving without us.” Ascher came to a stop on his right.
“We signed on for the full ride. When the female dies, so do her guardians.” Atlas joined them, giving a negligible shrug, as if he hadn’t just destroyed her world. “It doesn’t matter how far or hard you run.”
Morgan stubbornly shook her head. “No, others have survived—”
“A week, maybe two at most.” Kincade waved a dismissive hand.
Devastation hollowed out her chest until breathing became difficult. The five men who meant everything to her stood before her, and she turned to look directly at Draven. “You stay.”
“Morgan—”
“No, dammit.” She would not be charmed by his amused smile. “You have a sister out there who needs her big brother. You have a life. You will not throw it away for me.”
His face darkened a second before it cleared of any emotions, the way he looked right before killing his opponent. He stalked toward her, but she refused to back down. “Dying is the risk we take for any job. Do you think that I would—”
“The gods be damned, I want you all to live!” Morgan wanted to tear out her hair in frustration. “Why is that so hard to get through your thick skulls!”
Draven reached out to touch her, and she leapt backward. “Don’t.”
She couldn’t risk that he would try to influence her in any way. She was immune to magic, but she would not risk his life on the gamble.
Hurt flashed across his face before he could hide it, and she felt like a shit. “You have your freedom. You can live.”
A bitter laugh escaped him, the darkness he kept under wraps spilling through. “What life? I jump from woman to woman to man to feed like a parasite. My kind doesn’t get a happy ever after. If we stay with one person, they usually die within five years, unable to withstand our touch. We’re doomed to be hunted and locked away—like an obsession.”
He took a step toward her, and it was all she could do not to skitter away, the door thumping her back as she smacked into it. “You don’t want this. You kept your distance from me for a reason, never touching, never getting close.”
“Because I want you too much!” He stared down at his hands in hatred. “No matter who I touch, they’re influenced by my magic.” Then he glanced up at her, a sliver of hope shining in his eyes. “Until you.”
“You don’t know that.” She glared at the other guys in helpless anger when Draven stepped closer, blocking her escape. She flinched when he edged closer. “Stop. You don’t want to do this.”
“Oh, you’re very much wrong.” He gave her a genuine smile, not one of his devil-may-care grins. “I’ve been wanting to do this from the moment you saved me from a nest of gremlins and sang by my side. Kiss me.”
“No.” When he leaned closer, Morgan closed her eyes and turned her head to the side. When a heartbeat passed then two and nothing happened, she gingerly cracked open her eyes to find him smiling down at her, only an inch separating their faces.
“Kiss me.”
Morgan found herself leaning forward to obey the compulsion until her natural immunity kicked in, and she jerked back with a scowl.
Only to find Draven grinning down at her like a loon, the spark of hope in his eyes making her breath catch.
He lifted a hand, running a finger down her jaw, his hand coming to rest against her throat. “Kiss me.”
Morgan leaned forward without a thought, wrestling for control, only stopping just shy of touching his lips. “No.”
She found herself picked up and spun around, his whoop of joy making her smile. When he slowed and slid her down his body, she found herself plastered against his surprisingly muscular chest.
“Morgan.”
She jerked her head up to find the smile wiped from his face.
“Tell me no.”
She opened her mouth but couldn’t seem to find any words as his head slowly lowered. She expected him to ravish her mouth, expected to be pulled under his spell. Instead, his lips barely touched hers, but the impact was enough to knock her on her ass.
Her lips tingled, wanting more, her skin aching to brush up against him, and she pried open her eyes to glare at him, but feared it ended up being more of a besotted, lovesick puppy-eyed look. She was going to accuse him of using his magic on her, but his dazed expression shut her up.
Whatever he did to her was completely mutual.
She glanced down at her arms and disappointment hollowed out her chest.
No mating marks.
Draven nudged up her chin with his knuckles. “You’ve placed your mark on my heart. The others will show up when they will.”
Morgan swallowed a lump in her throat, sure as hell hoping he was right. She couldn’t imagine her life without him—without any of them. They’d worked their way into her heart when she wasn’t looking. She didn’t have a clue how she’d been lucky enough to find them, but she had no intention of letting them go. She’d find a way to outwit the ticking bomb on her back and keep them safe, one way or another.
“We should go.” Ryder prowled toward the door, head cocked as he listened for a second before swinging it open.
Draven quickly kissed her forehead, then headed out first. “Follow me. We should be able to slip out a small service door on the roof without being noticing. They hadn’t secured it yet when I went to check.”
The others followed, Morgan bringing up the rear. She paused next to Ryder and held out her hand, wondering if he would accept what she was offering. One second he was by the door, the next he was inches away from her, his wonderful fresh scent wrapping around her, luring her to close the gap between them.
What he did next made her go all mushy inside—he set his hand into hers like she’d offered him the world. Morgan smiled up at him, threaded their fingers together, and allowed him to pull her out the door.
They weren’t spotted on the way to the roof. The service door Draven mentioned was nothing more than a rusted hatch, the guys barely to fit their broad shoulders through the small opening. The ladder was long gone, so they had to jump and pull themselves through. When she moved to leap, Ryder grabbed her around the waist and easily lifted her over his head. She gave a startled yelp, shooting him an annoyed glare, but her heart gave a betraying leap at the way his hands spanned her waist, a warm shiver going through her at the thought of those hands on other parts of her body.
She dragged herself through the latch, gulping fresh air, cursing the warm heat in her cheeks.
To her surprise, being outdoors didn’t relieve the oppressive atmosphere. The double moons were barely visible past the gloom, the air murky and dense. The guys split off in different directions to survey the rooftop, but Morgan was drawn to the south wall. As she neared the edge, a shadow pulled away from the wall, wrapping a hand around her mouth when she would’ve shouted an alarm, pulling her into a crouch and pinning her to the wall.
The moment he touched her, the magic surged from her bones, as if summoned.
Ward.
She stilled while Loki charged forward and nipped at his hand, a little growl vibrating through his whole body. Ward lifted his hand in surrender, retreating only enough for her to move, his eyes jumping from her to Loki, before giving a tiny nod to the little beast. He put a finger to his lips, then tipped his head to indicate over the wall.
With a nod, Morgan turned and peered over the edge…in time to see the elves drag one of the infected to a post a few yards away from the castle. They secured the struggling man with a bit of rope, then beat a hasty retreat back to the fortress, never once bothering to look up.
The soldiers stopped being of interest when a wisp of fog uncurled from the surrounding forest. She could see the man fight against his restraints, his screams muffled by a gag. When Morgan jerked to her feet, Ward kicked her legs out from underneath her. She hit the roof hard, the impact knocking the breath o
ut of her. The air was like drinking water as she struggled to breathe, resolutely dragging herself toward the edge of the building…but it was too late.
Before she could act, the man was ripped from the pole and dragged screaming into the woods.
The guys came at a sprint, their interest in the scream stopping dead when they saw her struggling to breathe next to a man they didn’t recognize. Weapons were drawn faster than her eye could track, each of the guys spreading out, moving in synchronicity only made possible by years of practice.
“You’re leaving.” Ward ignored the guys as if they didn’t exist, staring at her for a few seconds longer, then nodding. “I will join you, but we need to go now.”
Chapter Fourteen
“They’re feeding them to the mist.” Morgan pointed over the wall to the post located near the forest. “Their experiments.”
She might as well not have bothered to speak, the guys were paying her no attention, their unflinching focus on Ward, and Morgan rose to her feet. “Do you think they offer them as some kind of sacrifice to keep the mist away?”
“Doubtful.” Ward rose to his full height next to her, and she was surprised to see he wasn’t much taller than herself. “More like the mist is a wild animal. They’ve fed it, so it returns to the same spot.”
“You think them feeding the thing is keeping it at bay?”
He picked up a sack at his side, sliding it on his back, and she realized he had the same idea as they had…he was leaving. “Doubtful. More like it’s learning and studying the castle and inhabitants.”
Morgan stared at the distant pole, unable to repress a shiver. “They will run out of people sooner rather than later.”
“Doubtful.” Ward raised an eyebrow at her surprise. “The castle is full.”
Her stomach knotted, bile rising in the back of her throat at the thought of seeing MacGregor or the others being dragged out like a virgin sacrifice. She took a step toward the trap door when Ward spoke again.
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