Soldier
Emerald Isle Tigers Book Two
Cass Reynolds
Amelie Hunt
Contents
Author’s Copyright
An Excerpt
All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series
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Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
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All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series
About Cass Reynolds
About Amelie Hunt
Copyright Cass Reynolds, 2015
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An Excerpt
His beautiful killer was preparing to sleep. She had stripped off her dark armor, revealing pale expanses of creamy skin. Chase struggled to keep his breathing even as she bent over, tugging the leather pants downward. Her ass wiggled enticingly, clad in only a wispy scrap of cloth. Who would have thought that the countries deadliest assassin wore red lingerie under all that black?
His eyes were glued to her butt, his brain apparently short circuited. His breathing forgotten as he drank in as much as he could. This woman would never agree to be his mate, and he would never be able to forget her. He had to take what he could now, memories to sustain him for the rest of his miserable existence.
Mercy turned, revealing that tiny triangle of red between her legs, and Chase's breathing stopped entirely. His eyes traveled up her torso, along her flat stomach, finally coming to land on generous breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra. Pert nipples were slightly hard, no doubt reacting to the cold dungeon. God he wanted to suck those nipples. He would lave them with his tongue, twist them, bite them. She would beg him to stop, lest she lose control. He would show no mercy. And soon, so soon, she would be begging for his head between her thighs.
With that thought, his eyes dropped again, back to that treasured vee. Her hips swayed as she walked forward, towards the bars, towards... him.
All The Amelie Hunt Presents Series
Ophelia Bell’s Black Mountain Bears
Clawed
Bitten
Nailed
Vivian Wood’s Winter Pass Wolves
Howl
Growl
Prowl
Sennah Tate’s Sunset Glade Panthers
Spark
Ember
Blaze
Maeve Morrick’s Arctic Station Bears
Snowbound
Snowman
Snowfall
Cass Reynold’s Emerald Isle Tigers
Scoundrel
Soldier
Scholar
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Moonlight caresses your skin. Your bare feet crush leaves and grass as you run. Your heart hammers in your chest and your breath burns, but you can't stop. He's so close now.
A flash in the corner of your vision! The chase is drawing to a close. For a moment, you feel a prickle of fear. But the feeling is fleeting. After all, you're not the prey.
You're the hunter.
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Chapter One
Chase crouched in an empty cell, doing his best to peer out of the dark hallway and into the fighter's pit. The air was filled with a cacophony of sound - the roar of the Minotaur that was being cut down, the din of the cheering crowd, and the sickening squelching noises of a sword slicing through flesh.
Beyond the sound made by her weapon, not a peep came from the gorgeous assassin. She was a silent killer, dancing around her opponent as though it was a ballet, rather than blood sports.
It was a thrill to watch her. White blond hair hung in a heavy braid down her back, woven through with spikes. Form-fitting black leather emphasized every feminine curve. Other men might be put off by the blood smeared across her face, but not Chase.
He was as much of a killer as she was, and reveled in it just the same. The only difference might be that he tried to beat down his killer instinct, attempting to mourn rather than celebrate each death. But her unabashed murderous nature called to the animal in him, and in the shadows he could give in to that lust.
This fight could have been over in ten seconds, but his girl did like to put on a show. The Minotaur bled from a hundred shallow cuts, his breath labored, the beast struggling to keep his eyes on the angel of death who tormented him.
Chase wondered if anyone knew her real name anymore. She was a legend, spoken of in whispers. No one wanted to call her attention to them. Whatever name she had possessed had been lost to the years.
Now she was only 'Mercy.'
Not for any sort of kindness she showed, but rather what her victims begged for with their dying breaths.
Watching her, he could see why they begged. Here was a woman, one hundred percent human, yet somehow more of a monster than the tiger shifter who spied on her. Even though he might secretly love the killing strike, he did not play with his prey like this. And he was a cat for God's sake.
Finally she put an end to her torture, severing the Minotaur's head in one clean blow. The crowd was on their feet, screaming in approval. They knew as well as anyone else that she drew the fights out, and were sure to encourage such behavior. Animals really. To be fair, a lot of them probably were animals of a sort. Or at the very least, a more primal kind of being.
Still, Chase could not approve of those who watched. Slaves battling in a cage for the amusement of others was not a noble sport to cheer for. Were they to volunteer themselves for the fight, he would extend his approval. That was not the case.
He was lost in his thoughts, like an idiot, almost failing to notice Mercy heading back into the tunnel. If he got himself caught by these people again, he may as well show his throat in the first fight. Escape would not be an option - his own sister would murder him.
Fading back into the darkness at the back of the cell, he watched the angelic assassin pass by, wiping the blood off her face. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, almost supernaturally. They were an icy blue, and looked like they belonged to someone far older than her smooth skin suggested. She couldn't be more than twenty five, but her eyes said she'd survived a hundred years of death. What could have happened to her, to have twisted her soul so thoroughly?
Two guards followed her, there to lock her back in the cage. The fighters were required to leave their weapons in the pit, only to be armed again for their next fight. Still, Chase knew that she could have taken them out if she wanted. Why didn't she? She was not the same kind of fighter he had been - he was a slave, meant to be a Coliseum fighter until his death. She was a criminal, sentenced to fight her crimes off. A normal criminal would be on their best behavior. Even the most heinous of crimes didn't take that long to pay back, if you were a decent fighter.
But not Mercy. She was in here for life, no option of earning back her freedom. Apparently she h
ad killed some very important people, and their friends were not too happy with her. So she had literally nothing to lose by taking out her guards. She might not make it out, but they couldn't exactly increase her sentence. Why was she so docile? Chase had to find out. Well, he had to free her actually. It wouldn't do for him to leave his mate here, an unwilling gladiator.
He waited until he heard the heavy clomp of the guard’s boots echoing down the hallway - away from him, and away from her cell. This was his chance. It wasn't time sensitive or anything, the guards in this place were laughable. They did no patrols, only heaving their lazy asses up to take the fighters to and from the pit. Sure, the Coliseum had an excellent prison system, but only fools relied on bars alone.
Still, no need to act the fool in return. Chase crept along on soft feet, his eyes flashing gold in the dark. The night vision lent by his feline half served him well in life. As he sidled up alongside Mercy's cell, he reiterated that last thought, a thousand times over.
His beautiful killer was preparing to sleep. She had stripped off her dark armor, revealing pale expanses of creamy skin. Chase struggled to keep his breathing even as she bent over, tugging the leather pants downward. Her ass wiggled enticingly, clad in only a wispy scrap of cloth. Who would have thought that the countries deadliest assassin wore red lingerie under all that black?
His eyes were glued to her butt, his brain apparently short circuited. His breathing forgotten as he drank in as much as he could. This woman would never agree to be his mate, and he would never be able to forget her. He had to take what he could now, memories to sustain him for the rest of his miserable existence.
Mercy turned, revealing that tiny triangle of red between her legs, and Chase's breathing stopped entirely. His eyes traveled up her torso, along her flat stomach, finally coming to land on generous breasts. She wasn't wearing a bra. Pert nipples were slightly hard, no doubt reacting to the cold dungeon. God he wanted to suck those nipples. He would lave them with his tongue, twist them, bite them. She would beg him to stop, lest she lose control. He would show no mercy. And soon, so soon, she would be begging for his head between her thighs.
With that thought, his eyes dropped again, back to that treasured vee. Her hips swayed as she walked forward, towards the bars, towards... him.
"You are breathing incredibly loud for a tiger, you know that?"
Chapter Two
Mercy regarded Chase with a bored expression. She was fully aware of her almost complete nudity, and the effect it was having on the poor man, but she did not give one shit. What was the fool shifter even doing here? He was supposed to be dead. If Zelloth caught him, not dead, he would be delighted to rectify that situation. Slowly, and probably in a public place.
She was slightly curious as to how he was not dead, but didn't want to seem as though she cared at all.
At the moment, he seemed unrecovered from his lust, still gaping at her like a twelve year old with his first porno mag. If he kept this up, the guards were sure to find him. And as much as she enjoyed the kill, she didn't really want to be pitted against the tiger. He was gorgeous, a lethal blur of black and orange. And the human side wasn't half bad either.
If Zelloth did find him, outside her cell, she would just bet that the psycho would set them against each other, assuming some attachment that didn't exist. She needed to snap Chase out of his stupor and get him the fuck out.
Leaning forward slightly, Mercy snapped her fingers in front of his face. Of course, this also put her boobs at his eye level, and she could swear that his eyes glazed over even more.
Letting out a huff, she regarded him with annoyed look. She didn't need this. May as well shout for the guards and doom him. Every second the man drooled over her tits, the idea seemed more appealing.
But she couldn't bring herself to do it.
Angling her arm, she stuck it through the bars, grasping Chase's chin. Yes, she may have applied a little extra pressure, her nails biting into his skin. He was lucky they weren't dipped in poison tonight. She pulled his head up with her, forcing him to stand. Admittedly, he did it with the grace his kind was so well known for, even with his brain temporarily on leave. She might not care about the man, but she could admire his body. In other circumstances, she might take him for a spin, burn off some steam.
He was tall, making even her feel petite - not easy to do when she stood at five foot eleven in bare feet. His jawline was strong and well defined. Hair was cut with military precision, just enhancing that "soldier" vibe he gave off. She wondered if he had ever been a soldier. He would have been young - there was no regulation army that took shifters. This bearing wasn't about to be ingrained in the rag tag groups of mercenaries that roamed the post-Blink country. But eight years ago... he couldn't have been much more than twenty at the time.
His eyes were a stunning green. If he hadn't been completely addled, she felt like they might have seen right through her, peeling back the layers of the dark husk that used to be her soul.
Mercy shook her head at these foolish thoughts. Was Chase attractive? Yes. She would even say he was one of the more fuckable men she'd run into in her life. But that meant jack shit. She just needed to get him the hell out and forget he ever existed. She had a job to do.
Giving his jaw one last caress, she drew her hand back as well as she could within the constraints of the bars, and gave him a hard slap.
"Chase. You stupid mother fucker. Stop staring at me like I'm your last meal and get your ass out of here."
He blinked, the haze disappearing from those emerald orbs.
"Uh. What? No. I can't leave, I'm here to get you out."
Mercy stared at him, bemoaning her life.
"No, you're not. I'm not your damsel in distress, your princess in a tower. And from what I can see, you're not fit to be anybody's knight. Now leave, before the guards decide you'll make a fine present for Zelloth. I bet he'd like a new tiger skin rug."
Chase squared his jar, his eyes hardening, a mask of stubbornness settling over his features. "I'm no one's white knight, and you are definitely not a damsel, but the fact remains - I'm getting you out."
Mercy threw up her hands, her boobs bouncing, enticing the tiger once more. She growled in frustration as she saw the haze swirl back around the idiot tiger's eyes.
"No Chase! Bad cat. Focus on something besides my tits for fuck's sake. Like how you're a moron maybe?"
He shook his head and glared back. "Then put some damn clothes on woman! It is impossible to concentrate on anything with... all that... everywhere."
Very deliberately, she crossed her arms, thrusting her boobs high in the air, nipples tightening even more under Chase's lustful gaze. "No. I am going to sleep. I do not need clothes. You are leaving. Goodbye. Have a nice life."
He matched her growl with one of his own, albeit much more impressive. The warning of an angry apex predator reverberated through the stone halls, sending chills through Mercy's body. God that was hot. She definitely needed to get a shifter playmate when this assignment was done. Not Chase though. He was way too invested.
Which was weird actually. The pair of them had talked a few times in the handful of weeks he had been imprisoned here, but nothing significant enough for this show of foolishness.
"Why are you here Chase? Why do you want to free me, specifically? I didn't realize we were anything more than acquaintances who might be forced to fight to the death at some point."
He glowered at her, unwillingness to answer painted all over his face.
Mercy shrugged, making sure to put some extra bounce into her tits. "So you come here on a suicide mission and won't even tell me why?"
He stared for a few more beats, finally letting out a sigh of defeat. "You're not going to like it."
Mercy rolled her eyes at him. "Oh I'm certain of that."
Chase made a face at her, and sighed again. "You know what I am."
This was going to be like pulling teeth. Mercy gave him a pointed look. "Duh."
A third sigh. She was going to haul off and punch the man any minute now. "Well, shifters have a curse. It's relatively new, since our gods decided there needed to be more of us. To fight the humans you know."
She did not like where this was going. "Okay…?"
He turned away from her, pacing in small circles in the hall. "Well basically, the curse gives me a predetermined mate. As in, it activates at random, and whoever triggers it is... in effect my soul mate. Powerful magic, hard as hell to avoid. I could walk away, of course, but I'll never be able to forget you. And I'm definitely not able to just leave you in here to die."
Mercy gaped at him. She had heard of the shifter curse, of course. She knew almost everything there was to know on the various magical species that kept popping up - necessary info when you might have to kill them. She just never imagined that a shifter would light up on her.
"No, you're wrong," she said with a high pitched voice, "you're supposed to pick another shifter. So you can make little tiger babies together. That's the whole point of the curse!"
Chase chuckled, not sounding at all amused. "That's the asinine part of it all. The tiger magical gene or whatever isn't even hereditary. The Boss Tiger just picks people at random. It's like a game to him. The curse was applied to all shifters - a blanket sort of thing, even though for many of us, mating doesn't make one whit of difference as far as population growth."
Mercy could see how that would be annoying. But it mattered not - she was not going to be anybody's mate, curse or no. He would just have to deal, or hash it out with his tiger boss.
"Well, sorry to disappoint you, but I am not interested in mating. So you can just... leave now. No need to worry about saving me, won't help your cause at all."
Soldier (Emerald Isle Tigers Book 2) Page 1
