Chapter 22

Twenty-Two

~ Princess Blake ~

When I wake, I immediately reach for the curved dagger strapped to my thigh. Rising, I prepare myself to attack the giants who have captured me, but I’m surprised to find the Drozac assassin sitting a short distance away. His gray eyes bore into me as he watches from the corner of the small room we’re in. Sweet chocolate and crisp mint swirls in the air, and instinctively my muscles relax, but I don’t release my grip on my blade. “Where are we?”

He doesn’t answer, and I warily eye the silver cuffs around his wrists. “Tell me where we are, mate,” I bite out.

He bristles, his top lip curling. “You’re safe. For now,” he replies gruffly. His voice is so rough and deep it crackles when he speaks, and my heart rate picks up as I fight against the desire to move closer to him.

“And the others?” I ask, my throat tight.

His expression gives nothing away, but after a long moment he answers. “I imagine the shifter, demon, and archangel will be here soon.”

My chest sags. Inside, I knew they weren’t dead. I would feel pain if they’d been killed and their souls sent to the shadow realm, but it’s a relief to know they haven’t been captured. At that, my mind whirls as I think about the witches, but I mentally push my questions away. There would be time to figure out that puzzle, but for now, I have to deal with my current situation.

Scanning the room, I take note of the neatly ordered provisions, the weapons lined against the wall, and the assassin’s cloak spread on the floor. He’s taken me to where he’s been staying? My gaze lifts again. “Either hurry up and kill me already or tell me where the giants are.” Anger races through me at the thought of the giants we encountered, and I tighten my grip on my blade. I wouldn’t be so careless around those traitors again.

My fury is mirrored in the assassin’s eyes, and his jaw clenches. “They’re not here. They touched you,” he rasps like that one statement explains everything.

I jerk my chin higher, even though my heart skitters at his words. “And what? They weren’t killing me fast enough for your liking?”

He blinks slowly, and his nostrils flare. “They weren’t killing you because their heads were rolling on the ground before they could draw another breath.”

My heart pounds faster. “Saving me for yourself, were you?”

His eyes darken, heat entering his gaze, and I swallow hard.

“You saved me because you’re my mate, and you know it,” I say when he doesn’t speak. The words come out breathier than I intend, and his scent of mint and chocolate grows stronger, making my body ache. I definitely did something to offend Lady Fate considering where I am now.

I’m distracted enough that I’m slow to react when the assassin launches across the room. He slams my back against the wall, and my dagger flies from my grip. Oh, shit. The air rushes from my lungs, and his hands wrap around my wrists as he holds them above my head and pins me there. “Drozac assassins don’t have mates,” he snarls, and his dark brown hair hangs around his face as he leans in close.

Heat races through my veins, and my breath hitches as his intense gray gaze lowers to my lips. “That’s funny,” I tell him, “because you do.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, flinching like I’ve struck him, but instead of moving away, he presses in closer.

“You don’t understand, as a member of the Drozac, I took an oath,” he says, his lips dangerously close to mine. “Whatever this is, it’s a mistake. I can’t have a mate. I can’t have anyone.”

My brows lift, and I stare at him in surprise. “Well, maybe you said the oath wrong.” I pause thoughtfully. “Wait, are you saying you haven’t been with anyone since you made your oath? How long ago was that?”

His jaw clenches.

“Well, shit. No wonder you’re so grumpy.”

The thick muscles across his chest tighten, and I tense. “If you were going to kill me, you wouldn’t have saved me from your pals out there.”

“Maybe I just want you to suffer first,” he replies gruffly, tightening his hold on my wrists.

I think his idea is to intimidate me, but all it’s doing is turning me on even more. I’m guessing he must feel the same way, because he presses his hips against me, and strain pulls across his features.

I smirk. “Give it up, assassin. Because whether we like it or not, Lady Fate has plans for us.”

He breathes heavily. “I was sent here to take your life.”

“Yes, well, it’s the giants who are being difficult with the negotiations. Instead of sending you to do their dirty work, maybe the royals of Rostof should get their heads out of their asses and actually have a realistic conversation with King Dalton. I mean, don’t you ever say ‘no’ to them?”

He frowns at me like I’m speaking gibberish. “No.”

I smile sweetly. “Then I guess there’s a first time for everything.”

“You’re the demon princess,” he whispers like saying it out loud is blasphemy.

“And you’re an asshole,” I reply. “So it looks like we both lucked ou?—”

Before I can finish, he smashes his lips to mine, and the kiss is rough and possessive, and it sets my body on fire. Cool mint and chocolate fills my mouth, sweet and bitter, and mouthwateringly delicious as his tongue pushes in, stroking and demanding that I respond. His hips press harder against me, and every other thought empties from my mind, replaced by the desire to have more of him. Need races through me. A need so strong it’s almost painful. I need him.

Using my power, I yank my hands free and push him with enough force that he falls with his back flat to the floor. Before he can get up, I’m on him, my knees sliding to the sides of his hips as lust wars with the hatred in his cool and calculating gray eyes. He’s so big between my legs, and I enjoy the feel of him beneath me. His large hands reach behind my back, and when I grind against him, the growl that comes from him is a feral, guttural sound that turns my insides to liquid.

“Demon enchantress,” he curses as he peers up at me, and there’s a tortured look in his eyes. “After all these years, this is a test to finally break me.”

I can’t blame him for believing that. He’s right about this not making any sense. If he wasn’t my mate, I would kill him in a heartbeat and I’d enjoy it, too. But he is, and I rock against him as I arch my back, enjoying the hard press of him between my thighs. When I look down, the hate is gone from his eyes, the emotion drowned by a desire so intense, all I can think about is having him inside me. Filling me and riding me until I’m too exhausted to move.

Before I can think about giving in and wrestling the assassin out of his clothes, he curses and breaks his hands free from my hold. His grip tightens on my back, and he rolls us to the side right before Prince Callan crashes through the ceiling. Debris and dust shower around us, and Nate climbs through the window in his shifted form, followed by Dante who wields a giant ax. Shade is the last to enter, and she soars straight for the assassin, pecking at his face furiously as she frantically flaps her wings. He lifts his hand to protect his eyes and grumbles another curse, but he doesn’t harm her.

“Shade, stop!” I send to her, but she keeps going.

“Tell me you’re all right!” she squawks in my mind, and my heart clenches at the panic in her voice.

“The assassin saved me,” I tell her quickly, trying to ease her worry. “And as much as I appreciate the support, you can stop attacking my mate now.”

She pecks him a few more times before flying to the closest windowsill and tucking in her wings. Her feathers are still ruffled as she paces. “Well, you’d better tell that to these three before things get out of hand.”

I lift to my feet, facing the glowering males who are positioned around the room, and the assassin does the same. Dante’s face is the picture of wrath as his tail flicks and he stares down the Drozac, and Nate roars, his mouth stretching wide as he bares his fangs like he’s imagining crushing the assassin’s head. Prince Callan’s normally perfectly smoothed hair is tousled and unruly, and stress lines are tight across his face.

My lips curve into a smile. “Aw, you guys care about me,” I croon happily. Either that, or they simply care about keeping me alive, but I let myself believe the first option.

Dante’s chest heaves up and down, and he assesses the way I’m instinctively standing in front of the assassin. Slowly, the anger in his eyes starts to dissipate. “So, I’m guessing this is the other mate you were telling me about?” he says coolly, though there’s still a deranged look in his eyes that’s making me feel all hot and bothered. Then again, that might be because my mates are around me all looking incredibly delectable right now. Or maybe, it’s because we almost just died, and I’m so damn relieved to see them alive.

“Yup,” I say with a ridiculously giddy smile.

“The Drozac assassin,” Prince Callan says with disgust, but the assassin doesn’t look the least bit affronted by the contempt in the archangel’s voice.

“He saved me from the giants,” I say, and it feels weird to be defending a member of the Drozac. “I mean, I would have just killed them when I woke, but uh, thanks,” I add, turning to the assassin. Despite his relaxed stance, his alert gaze doesn’t shift from my mates.

When the others keep acting hostile, I shoot them a stern look until one by one they slowly lower their weapons. Nate hisses and paces before changing back to his non-shifted form, his body molding and changing, and the thick spotted fur disappearing.

Behind me, the assassin’s brows lower as he watches them follow my command. “Guess I’m not the only one who’s lost my mind,” he comments. “They act like your pets, just like your bird.” He gestures with his head to Shade.

I stiffen. Oh boy. There really is only so much you can do to help a guy out.

“Tell me he did not just say that!” Shade screeches as she shoots forward, her claws outstretched as she aims for his face.

His eyes widen in surprise, and he dodges, avoiding her attacks.

“You shouldn’t have called her that,” I point out with a grin.

“What?” he grunts, looking genuinely puzzled as Shade continues to squawk at him.

“You called her a pet,” I explain. “When I found her, she’d been locked in a cage and was half dead. She knows that word and she’s not exactly a fan.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s the one to find that out,” Prince Callan says with amusement.

The assassin processes my words, and to my surprise, his expression softens. It’s not sympathy I detect, but maybe…understanding? When Shade flies at him again, he lifts his hands in a placating gesture. “Stop, little one. I didn’t mean to offend you, and something tells me I’d regret having to break your neck.”

Shade squawks and retreats back to the windowsill, and I glare at him. “Do that, and even if you are my mate I will happily send you to the shadow realm.”

Dante folds his arms across his chest, and his lips twitch. “And here I thought I had a way with words.”

The assassin scowls.

“So, what’s the plan here?” Nate says, folding his arms behind his head and widening his stance. The naked male has a raging hard on, and I can’t even tell him to put his clothes back on because I’m guessing he probably shredded them when he shifted again.

All gazes turn to me, and for a moment, I don’t know what to say. Their scents are all mixing together, and it’s messing with my head. Stupid fated mates. “We need to find out what’s going on with the witches,” I say, blurting the first coherent thought that comes to me.

I’m aware that the assassin might know what the giants were up to, though I doubt he is involved. It’s well known the Drozac assassins try to keep out of the everyday workings of society. Their oath is to their order.

“I meant, what are you doin’ with the four of us?” Nate clarifies, giving me a wolfish grin.

I hesitate. The obvious answer is that we bond now to find out if they’re all my mates, but Prince Callan has made it clear he’s not willing to participate, and I doubt the assassin will be happy to join just yet, either.

“We go back to the plan of making our way to the castle,” I suggest. “It’s our way home, and if the witches have infiltrated Rostof, we need to get word to King Dalton. Then we can worry about what to do with…” I gesture to the four males around me, “uh, this.”

When no one argues, I call it a win and stride toward the doorway. Shade flies over, perching on my shoulder, and I make it a few steps into the hallway before I realize no one else is following us. Peering back, I sigh when I find that Dante, Prince Callan, and Nate are all still glaring at the assassin.

“You first, Drozac,” Prince Callan says coldly.

The assassin collects his weapons and provisions from the floor and slings a leather satchel over his shoulder. “It’s Alaric,” he says, striding after me and ducking to fit through the doorway. “And you’re welcome.”

The others grumble as they follow, and it’s tense as we make our way from the house.

“Great,” I say to Shade. “This is just great.”