by Katie May
“Her name was Ali, and she was beautiful. Smart. Funny. Kind. I loved her with my entire heart. Until she died.”
When the man paused in his story, I swung my gaze over to Dair. This woman had been one of his many step-moms. Had he known her? Been close to her? Cared for her? However, his impassive face and slightly pursed lips gave nothing away.
“When the King discovered our affair, he killed Ali. It wasn’t a quick death. He wanted her to suffer. He cut off all her limbs and made her crawl across the floor. And then, in front of me, he cut off her head.” He choked on a sob. “I did the only thing I could think to do - I tried to kill the sick bastard.”
“So you admit you’re a traitor,” Tavvy said lightly. He flashed a smile at me. “Good job.”
“Good job?” I whispered. I couldn’t get in enough air. I was gasping, choking, vomiting on my own breath. Tears burned my eyes.
What had been this man’s crime? Falling in love? Defending her from a crazed mad-man?
I stared into the man’s bright green eyes. I didn’t even know his name, and the powers that be wanted me to kill him. Wanted me to snuff the light out of those eyes that were looking at me with such hope.
Those eyes suddenly widened. His brows had been furrowed, but as I watched, they smoothed over.
And then his head toppled from his body.
A scream lodged in my throat, and I desperately grasped at Lupe’s arms. I had seen death thousands of times before. Hell, I had even been the one to kill.
But this was different. I didn’t know how. Innocent people died all the time; it was just the way life worked. Maybe it was because he had been staring at me with such hope. The man - whose name I still didn’t know - had truly believed I would save him. Me. A savior.
It might’ve been laughable if I didn’t feel like crying.
Tavvy stood over the man’s body, a bloody sword held loosely in his hands. A manic grin twisted his blood red lips.
“You’re a kind soul, Z. It’s going to be your downfall. But don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”
Somebody touched my arm, and I jumped. But the dark skin and calluses were familiar. Bash or Dair must’ve released Ryland when I was focused on Tavvy. I immediately jumped into my mate’s warm embrace, reveling in how safe he made me feel.
“Are you okay?” I whispered hoarsely into his chest. He brushed my hair, kissing my head.
“I’m fine, little assassin. I’m fine.”
A gagging sound pulled my attention away from Ryland.
The five other men were choking, desperately grabbing at their necks and the tightening collar around them. I ran towards them, but it was too late. All five of them fell to the ground, faces blue and cold.
Dead.
Including the young teenage boy.
Tavvy released a sardonic laugh, clutching his belly. When I spun on him, eyes murderous, his laughter only intensified.
“You said release your mate,” he pointed out between chuckles. “Not the other five prisoners.”
THIRTY-TWO
Z
The strangest sense of loss plagued me that night and all through the next day. It was completely irrational, to mourn someone you didn’t even know, but it was my reality.
The man’s name was Jakob.
The boy’s was Radon.
No matter how long I scrubbed at my skin, I could still feel tendrils of blood. I wished I could bleach my hands, my eyes, my mind. I may not have been the one to hold the sword, but it was my admission that had cost Jakob his life.
But Tavvy? He was behind the death of the other five innocent men.
I sat in the now pink water, staring at my pruned hands.
Would they always be a beacon of death, these hands? Would death always trail behind me like a lost, albeit obedient, puppy?
“You’re not going to clean yourself like that.” Ryland’s voice came from behind me, from the shadows converged in the corner of the room, but I didn’t jump. I didn’t do anything but sit in the sickly pink water.
The shadows steadily receded, revealing his face to me. I barely noticed it, barely comprehended what a gift that was.
He drained the water, perching at the edge of the claw-footed tub. Once the tub was emptied, he began to refill it, placing a hand beneath the faucet to check the temperature. Steam billowed, but I relished in the blistering heat. I wondered if it could burn away all my sins.
“How long have you been here?” I didn’t recognize my voice. It was croaky, almost as if I had just gotten out of bed.
“Awhile,” he admitted unashamedly. “I wanted to give you space.”
“And now?”
“I want to take care of you.” He practically breathed the words, his voice a purr.
When the tub was filled once more, he turned off the faucet and grabbed a clean rag off the bathroom counter.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded, dabbing the rag with a generous amount of soap. Slowly, gauging my reaction, he brought it to my shoulders.
His ministrations were slow, cautious, but I leaned into him. Everywhere the rag touched, goosebumps erupted.
“I don’t know why I feel so guilty.” I stared pointedly ahead at the golden-edged mirror. A beautiful adornment on the cream painted wall. I made out my reflection - cheeks sunken, eyes hollow, blonde hair tangled. I wondered if this was how I looked when Diego died. Another innocent brutality of this war I knew nothing about.
Ryland moved the rag down my arms, paying special attention to each of my fingers. I never thought that bathing someone could be so erotic, but each accidental graze of his hand against mine caused my skin to burn.
He didn’t interrupt me as I spoke, focused entirely on his task.
“It wasn’t my fault. Not Jakob’s death. Not Diego’s. So why do I feel such staggering guilt?” I laughed humorlessly, watching Ryland move around the tub to wash my other arm. A part of me grieved the lack of his touch for that brief moment of separation.
Ridiculous.
Utterly ridiculous.
“But Jakob’s eyes...he stared at me with hope, Ry. He truly believed that I would be his savior. But look at him! Because of me, he’s dead. I may not have been the one to do the actual killing, but...” I trailed off helplessly.
I wanted Tavvy to bleed for what he had done. I wanted him to suffer. The need was almost more compelling than the Mage bond. It painted a beautiful, yet macabre, picture. Striding towards the smug asshole with my knife held firmly in my hand. Cutting through the tender skin of his neck. Smiling down at him, as he had smiled down at the six men.
“I think,” Ryland began. He moved to sit inside the tub with me, still fully clothed. The water played with the edge of his shirt, gifting me briefly a view of his darkly sculpted muscles. “You feel guilty because you’re a good person.”
I snorted at his logic, but he continued before I could protest.
“You see the world the way the rest of us want to. Not in black or white or even gray, but in vibrant colors. You are able to separate the innocents from the predators. You recognize evil for what it is, and you wish to stop it.”
His hands were wrapped around my calf as he scrubbed at my skin. Tiny bubbles appeared on my bare leg. Briefly, I wondered if I had shaved recently. Why was that something I would think about?
I shook my head, the enticing aroma of my body wash finally reaching my nostrils. The scent was almost decadent. Pomegranates, I believed. Lupe’s favorite.
“I’ve killed a lot of people in my life,” I whispered harshly. I stared at Ryland, waiting for the moment when he would realize what a monster I was and run. His expression remained warm, if not slightly impassive, as he scrubbed the soles of my feet.
After a long moment of silence, his breathy confession breached the distance between us.
“So have I.”
I gaped at him, his words sending me reeling. My eyes tracked each and every scar on his face, so many that his skin was discolored shades of white, red, an
d brown.
I hoped that the people he killed were the ones who had done that to him.
Silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Instead, I focused on his dark hand moving through the water and up my inner thighs. I held my breath, need and desperation causing my heart to hammer and breathing to speed up.
Despite my silent plea, he didn’t touch me where I wanted him to.
He brought the rag to my stomach, and his thumb grazed my belly button. The only sound was my sharp intake of breath and the rippling of water.
The rag inched higher, higher, higher, until it brushed the underside of my breasts. This time, I couldn’t contain the pathetic whimper that escaped me.
“Please,” I whispered. My core was aching, and I rubbed my thighs together to alleviate the pain.
When he dropped the rag, I thought I was going to die. Literally die.
Die.
Guilt chewed away at me.
“Hey, stay here. Don’t get lost in that mind of yours.” Ryland cupped my face in both of his hands, eyes searching my own. Only when he found my assent, did he release my face.
And abruptly cupped my aching breasts.
I gasped, staring at his hand over my skin and loving the contrasting skin colors as his dark hand held my pale breast. His thumb grazed my nipple, and I jerked.
Keeping his eyes trained on mine, Ryland removed his hands and lathered them in soap.
“You don’t see yourself clearly,” he whispered, bringing his hands back to my skin. I groaned at the contact, the soft pad of his fingers and rough calluses of his palms eliciting sensations I had never felt before. He paid extra attention to my nipples, pulling at them, twisting them.
“You don’t either,” I responded, slightly breathless. His hands lifted both of my boobs, scrubbing soap underneath them, before he dropped them, watching them bounce with heated eyes.
“What if I told you that the men I killed didn’t deserve it?” His voice was broken. A stark contrast to the sure, domineering man who had thrown a book at my face. “Would you leave me?”
His hands cupped water and dropped it onto my chest, washing away the soap. He did this three times before moving his hands to my thighs.
“Would you?” he whispered hoarsely.
“What if I told you,” I countered, spreading my legs wider so he could fit comfortably between them, “that I killed an innocent person as well? Would you leave me?”
“Never.” His answer was instantaneous.
His finger moved up my thigh, the touch reminding me of a first snowfall. Ironically, I couldn’t help but think how the soft touch burned my skin.
One finger pierced my wet cunt, and I arched my back, moaning.
“Fuck,” I whispered.
He brutally, savagely, fucked me with his finger, pulling it in and out of me. It was completely different from his soft hands and even softer words only moments before. This was rough and brutal. Claiming. Punishing. That one finger was joined by two more - I had to give Ryland credit. He wasn’t doing anything half-assed.
I was reaching the tip of a mountain, seconds from tumbling over. I had to decide if I was going to fall and trust him to catch me or remain stranded at the top. My back arched sharply, fire racing down my nerves.
I pulled his face to mine, and our lips met in a desperate dance. He kissed me like rain falling on a spring day. Everywhere we touched, we dissolved into each other until there was no Z and Ryland, but one person.
Finally, I found my relief, sobbing. Ryland continued to finger fuck me long after my orgasm subsided. He pulled out slowly, lips tilted up in smug, male satisfaction against my own.
My stomach tightened with lust when I realized we were both bathing in my release.
Ryland pressed a kiss against my forehead, eyes burning with an emotion I recognized all too well.
“You won’t become a monster, Z, because you recognize the monsters in others. Soon, you’re going to recognize the monster in me.”
His words took me back to his earlier question.
Would I still love him if he had killed innocent people?
It had only just occurred to me that I had never answered it.
Ryland’s voice was self-deprecating when he spoke next. “This world is designed to bring out all our monsters. It’s only a matter of time until you see mine, little assassin. Only a matter of time.”
THIRTY-THREE
Z
By the time I left the room, my nerves had settled and I found that I could breathe.
Ryland had receded back into the shadows, a fact that saddened me. With time, he would be okay with showing his face to the world. Long, excruciating time.
Dair was uncharacteristically silent when I stepped into the main bedroom. He sat on the bed, arms crossed over his muscular chest and eyes contemplative. When he saw me, he sat up, a brilliant smile etching across his face.
It was nice to see such a smile. The mood with my mates had been tense and somber since the fight with the Kraken and then the massacre in the dungeons. We all just wanted to go home, to escape.
To kill some damn Mermaid Princes.
“Z!” Dair rushed from the bed and grabbed my hand in his. “I want to take you to see my mom and sister today.”
His words froze me in place. I blinked at him wordlessly.
“Excuse me?” I asked on a screech. Meeting his mother? That sounded more terrifying than fighting another Kraken. Was there something wrong with me, something so deeply and intricately wrong with me, that made me fear opening myself up to these men?
“I want her to meet you,” he said softly. His face softened in adoration, and I could see how much he loved his mom.
I wanted to say yes, to see the glorious smile I knew would cross his face, to feel his golden hand in mine as he tugged me out of the room.
But something was stopping me. Nothing large, but a diminutive clamp that tugged at the top of my heart. I knew that if I said yes, if I agreed to something so monumental, it would alter my life forever. I would no longer be “Z the assassin” or “Zara the maid.” I would be their mate, their lovers, first and foremost.
Why did that terrify me so much?
Maybe because you surround yourself with death, I told myself snidely.
Staring into his brilliant blue eyes, I knew that I had feelings for him and the others that surpassed even my fears. That thought cemented my resolve.
I loved him. Maybe it was the beginnings of love, the slightest trickling of rain before it down-poured. Maybe it had progressed in the weeks I had been at the Capital. Either way, it was love. The strength of my conviction took me by surprise.
Fuck.
“Yes,” I whispered. Did he see how much he meant to me in my gaze? Hear it in my voice?
“Yes?” He stared at me in disbelief. From his expression, it was obvious he hadn’t expected me to agree. That disbelief changed to joy, and I was right. He flashed that brilliant smile at me once more.
I may have had six other mates, but to Dair, I was his only one. He stared at me as if he had never seen a woman so beautiful before, so perfect, so deserving of his love.
Utter bullshit, if you asked me. I didn’t deserve this man in front of me with his golden hair and golden face and a heart that made women everywhere weep. He was a good man. I knew it from the first moment I had met him, after he had saved me from what might’ve been a disastrous and deadly fall. From the very first word, when he had somehow seen through the mask and to the vulnerable, broken-hearted girl beneath.
Before I could say anything else, Dair rushed at me, grabbing my waist and spinning me in a circle.
He knew, just as I did, that my yes went beyond merely meeting his family.
“But first,” I said, tapping his back. He immediately dropped me to my feet. “I want to see Slippy.”
His nose crinkled adorably.
“That’s an awful name for a scary ass monster,” he pointed out.
I re
ached a hand up to smooth the skin between his eyes.
“He’s the size of a small dog,” I protested.
“He was once the size of a very large building. And, he tried to kill us.”
I waved a hand dismissively.
“Let bygones be bygones.”
I didn’t know what had possessed the Kraken to attack us. Bash had deduced that it must’ve been a spell, designed specifically for me. To capture me.
It made me...sad.
Had Haven, the Gorgon, been acting under a spell?
Bash must’ve somehow broken the spell on the Kraken when he had made it tiny. That was the only conclusion he could come up with.
Either way, both Dair and Bash had assured me that the sea monster wasn’t a threat. The water had promised Dair, and Bash...well...I wasn’t sure how he knew, and he wasn’t in the mood to share with me.
I hadn’t seen the blond asshole since we had left the dungeon.
Dair took my hand and led me down the hall. He stopped only a few doors down, at the room I had noted during my arrival.
Heat emanated from the open door, choking me. Sweat prickled at my skin.
The room was unlike anything I had ever seen before, both beautiful and strange. Jagged, brown rocks lined the walls, melded together in a way that couldn’t be natural. The flooring abruptly switched from wooden planks to sand, burning my toes. At the very edge of the sand was a small pool of water. Waves rippled the shoreline, but from what source, I couldn’t tell.
Slippy chirped happily when he caught sight of me, clambering out of the water and rubbing against my feet like a cat.
If you hadn’t seen a Kraken before, consider yourself lucky. He was so ugly that it was borderline adorable. Long tentacles wrapped around my legs, but unlike before, it didn’t hurt. His one eye stared up at me as if I hung the moon.
My stomach churned uncomfortably when I noted the dark lines grazing the white of his iris. From my arrow.
I wondered if he still felt pain.
“Do you have anyone who could look over him? Make sure we didn’t do any lasting damage?” I asked Dair nervously, bending down to pick up the little guy. He cuddled beneath my chin, and I could’ve sworn that he was purring.
