Academy of Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 1)
Page 31
Atlas shoved away from the wall again, taking a determined step toward her. “No one can ever know what you can do until you’ve learned how to control your powers and protect yourself. You’re safe for now, but if anyone discovers your heritage—”
“If I’m discovered, this will happen again. I can never return to my old life in the primordial realm.” She could never go home. Morgan expected pain, not the nearly overwhelming relief that she wouldn’t have to choose between her old life and her new one. “I understand.”
Atlas looked at her intently. “You will be giving up your birthright.”
“Yes.”
“Your right to rule.”
Morgan shrugged, barely holding back a shudder at the thought of being in charge of thousands, even millions of people. “Yes.”
“If you return, you can change things, heal the primordial realm.” He spoke softly, almost to himself.
A chill slipped over her skin at the tiny spark of hope in his dark green eyes, the burden of saving a whole world nearly crushing her under its weight. “Or it could all go horribly wrong if others discovered my real identity.”
“You’re both right.” Kincade’s mouth tightened in annoyance. “It’s too dangerous for this information to get out. We need to keep it a secret for now, until you’ve had a chance to be fully trained. We’ll double your training regimen and speak to the headmistress about special classes, so you can learn how to cast magic.”
Her breath halted painfully in her chest.
They weren’t going to send her away.
She watched in wonder while they argued back and forth about what needed to be done first. While they talked, they each watched her like a hawk, ensuring that she hadn’t moved, that she was safe, and she knew she had a long road ahead of her to earn back their trust.
While they might think her life was more important than their own, they were wrong.
She wouldn’t change what had happened, but she had to be more careful in the future. She had more to live for now. She needed to learn how to fight smarter, fight harder, and make sure they never came so close to losing anyone on their team again.
A brisk knock sounded on the door.
Without waiting for a response, it swung open and the guys jumped into action, grabbing their weapons, arranging themselves protectively between her and the door. The headmistress took them in at a glance, then nodded, her shoes clicking on the floor as she came near. “This came for you while you were away.”
She reached over and handed Morgan a familiar, gilded envelope of heavy vellum.
Across the front, the word champion was printed in beautiful, gold-leaf calligraphy.
“We would be honored to have you remain with us. This school used to teach and train all the champions. It will be good to go back to the old ways again.” Her dark eyes were appraising as she surveyed Morgan from head to foot. “You will need to be prepared for the future. The void needs to be put into balance, and you’re one of the few champions remaining. Your affinity for primordial magic will be invaluable.”
Morgan could only blink in surprise, a spurt of panic tightening her chest. “I don’t understand.”
“Too many rifts are tearing through the barriers between the worlds. Only someone who can handle that type of magic, someone with your skills, can uncover the cause and help fix it. Your abilities would be wasted on normal rift duty.”
The men were all grim, their bodies tense. “Headmistress—”
She waved Kincade away. “Save your breath. You and the others will remain as her personal guards. Only a few of us know her true identity, and we plan to keep it that way. The Academy has made us aware of the situation so we may help you train her properly for her new role.”
Morgan felt like she’d just been dropped into the deep end of the pool with a kraken dragging her under.
“I’ll leave you to rest.” The headmistress gave the guys a pointed look, then turned on her heel without another word.
Morgan should be afraid, but only one thing mattered to her—they wouldn’t be separated.
She wasn’t being sent away.
She could live through anything with the guys at her side.
They seemed to come to the same conclusion, slowly beginning to relax for the first time since she woke, and she was startled to realize they were willing to give up everything in order to stay with her.
Warmth filled her soul as she studied them, one at a time.
They were her friends.
Her family.
And if she wasn’t careful, they would keep her permanently cocooned in bubble wrap. They needed to learn she wasn’t going to let them get away with simply protecting her. They were going to be a team, whether they liked it or not.
“I’m starving. I don’t suppose I could talk you into stealing me something from the kitchen?”
Kincade promptly straightened at the chance to do something. “Of course.”
As the door closed behind him, she immediately turned toward the others. “Now what do I have to do to get out of here?”
She hated hospitals.
The only hunters who ever visited them were the dead or dying.
It reminded her how close she came to losing everything.
At her question, all conversation stopped, and the men froze as if caught by a predator.
Draven looked troubled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Kincade wouldn’t like it.”
Morgan lifted her arm and pointed to the markings. “He’ll be able to find me. We might as well begin as we mean to go on.”
She raised an eyebrow at him in a silent dare, and Draven burst out laughing and shrugged. “Rooftop?”
Morgan beamed at him, unable to remember when she’d ever been so happy. “Perfect.”
She peered up at Ascher, blinking up at him innocently. “Will you be my chariot?”
He leaned over, smiling indulgently, easily plucking her out of the bed before she even finished asking. He planted his face in her hair and inhaled, his arms pulling her tight against him, but she didn’t mind, snuggling against him when she remembered how close she came to losing them all.
She was done with pushing them away.
It hadn’t worked anyway.
They still managed to find a way into her heart.
Bonus Material
Ryder studied the small group on the rooftop in silent amusement as battle-hardened, ruthless assassins were turned into a bunch of bumbling idiots over a girl.
Not that he could blame them.
The instant Morgan set her dainty foot in the Academy, their lives had been irrevocably changed.
Kincade had been watching her from afar for years, and she’d slipped under his guard. No matter how hard he tried, the too serious, surly soldier couldn’t shake his infatuation with her.
Even now, Kincade fussed over Morgan, covering her with another blanket, which to Ryder’s count was number five.
She didn’t complain, dutifully snuggling under the covers, then smiling brilliantly up at the gargoyle in thanks. Kincade was so dazzled by that smile, he practically tripped over the chair behind him.
She had no idea of her effect on him…on any of them, really.
Ascher and Draven sat on the ground, playing cards on a coffee table. Draven hid behind his devil-may-care attitude, but he was hounded relentlessly by demons from his past. Morgan was like a bright light piercing his darkness, leaving the siren both amused and baffled, since he’d never run across anyone immune to his charms. It seemed to strip Draven of all his confidence. The siren didn’t try to work his magic on her—Morgan mattered, and Draven knew it. He didn’t want to risk fucking anything up.
Ascher leaned lightly against her leg, every so often touching her foot or inhaling her scent. He’d been around her the longest, knew her the best, but his subterfuge whilst in his hellhound form put a certain awkward distance between them, leaving the hellhound uncertain of where he stood, which Ryder understood all too well.
Though Ryder didn’t trust the mutt completely, he admitted the hellhound was a good choice for a protector. Even better, he was completely devoted to their girl.
Atlas cleaned his weapons some distance away, and Ryder was slightly disturbed to see the elf discreetly studying Morgan with a confused, unsatisfied expression. Ryder didn’t trust the damned elf. His kind cared only for duty and honor and their homeland.
Since they’d confirmed Morgan carried royal blood in her veins, Atlas’s fascination with her only grew. Ryder didn’t like it. To Atlas, Morgan was a way to regain everything he’d lost, a way to restore the tarnished honor he wore around him like a cloak, a way to free himself from the self-impose exile he took in penance for his sins.
But, against his will, Ryder admitted the bastard honestly cared for their girl, willing to go to hell—or the primordial realm as it were—for her.
When Morgan caught Atlas staring, she gave him a small smile.
Atlas scowled and went back to his work, but Ryder saw the way the elf’s eyes lingered on her when he thought no one was looking. It was easy to recognize that longing, the need to belong—Ryder felt it himself every time he saw their ferocious little Morgan strut around the school.
She didn’t seem to notice their faults, and none of the guys knew how to react when she turned those striking blue eyes of hers on them.
To his amusement, each of the guys kept unconsciously sneaking peeks at her, inspecting her injuries, and generally making sure she was comfortable.
They were worried, and so was he.
She’d come a long way since she first arrived. She no longer flinched when one of them approached, even allowing them to fuss over her—not because she needed it, but because she knew it made them feel better.
A lot of pressure rested on her small shoulders. With their help, she would be able to withstand anything…but not without a lot of training.
She was reckless, without an ounce of self-preservation, and it terrified him shitless.
He would have to watch her more closely, and protect her from herself.
He absently touched the black, metallic webbing that stretched up along his stomach, marveling that she had claimed him.
He never thought his lowly self, a bitten wolf, would ever be worthy of being claimed, much less by someone like her. Whenever she was near, his wolf wanted to burst free from his skin and beg for her touch.
His beast was braver than Ryder—the wolf didn’t worry about rejection, didn’t understand the consequences of his actions. Ryder couldn’t help but be envious of the freedom.
He was two hundred pounds of solid muscle. If that wasn’t intimidating enough, he could turn into a vicious animal at a drop of a hat when riled—not a stellar combination when making friends, much less even talking to a girl.
But Morgan didn’t seem to care.
Ryder didn’t give a shit about the mating marks. He’d been hers the instant she smiled at him with such joy as she ran next to him while he was in his wolf form. The marks only gave others visible proof of her claim on him.
He traced the obsidian metal webbing running up his chest and along his shoulder, where an inch-long spider sat perched, a graphic display of ownership he wore with pride. It was similar to the dainty spiderweb marking the inside of her small hand, and wicked pleasure tore through him when he saw them etched on her body. Even his wolf seemed smug when he spotted his own pawprint stamped on her flesh like a tag of possession.
Warmth hummed along the connection, and he glanced up to find Morgan watching him.
Ryder froze, unable to drop his gaze as heat raced through him.
It felt like she’d reached across the room and run her hand along the markings on his chest.
He instantly hardened, her phantom touch leaving him panting for more.
Then Kincade asked her a question, drawing her attention, and the spell broke.
Just one small look from her, and his heart slammed against his ribs, his wolf clawing to get out. But along with the pleasure was a darker emotion—how close she came to nearly dying to save his worthless hide. She risked everything for him, and he was determined to do whatever it took to make sure she never regretted her decision.
Whether she admitted it or not, nearly losing them affected her as well, and he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
Though she proved she would do anything for them, it also left her in grave danger if anyone discovered her weakness for them.
After what happened, they could no longer put her magic back in the bottle. The torque would help her with control, but she still had a long road ahead of her. While the creatures of the primordial realm would leave her alone for now, they wouldn’t forget—or forgive—what happened.
In a burst of pain, claws snicked out of his fingertips at the thought of anyone taking her away from them, and he quickly curled his hands into fists to hide the change, ducking his head so no one would notice the way his teeth lengthened.
While Morgan deserved better than lowly assassins, no one would protect her better or care for her more—even with their rough edges and broken pasts. It was up to them, as her protectors, to ensure she was prepared for what was to come, and he would do whatever it took to keep her safe.
To him, being chosen as her mate was worth any price.
Acknowledgments
To my readers—
Thank you for all your support.
This book is for you.
Enjoy!
And to my husband, as always.
About the Author
Stacey Brutger lives in a small town in Minnesota with her husband and an assortment of animals. When she’s not reading, she enjoys creating stories about exotic worlds and grand adventures…then shoving in her characters to see how they’d survive. She enjoys writing anything paranormal from contemporary to historical.
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