Marked by an Assassin (23 page)

He wasn’t talking about the kiss at Archangel. He was talking about that first kiss they had shared close to forty years ago. She wasn’t the only one who wanted answers, and the steely look in Harbin’s silver eyes said he wasn’t going to stop asking that question until she confessed.

“You’re the son of our pride’s alpha,” she whispered to her feet and then lifted her head and looked him in the eye, determined not to let him make her feel that she had done something wrong. She had been muddled, conflicted. “I was afraid… I wasn’t sure what was happening, but I knew you were our future alpha.”

He snorted. “Now I’m nobody. A ghost. An assassin… a killer.”

She didn’t need him to remind her of that fact, not when it had played on her mind from the moment he had walked back into her life. It unsettled her that his announcing it didn’t change the attraction she felt towards him. He was a killer by his own admission, but all she could see was Harbin standing before her.

He shoved away from the wall.

“I never would have been alpha,” he spat out with so much venom that she tensed. “Cav has that title and it would have passed to his kids.”

“I thought about approaching you later.” She hated the way her voice shook as she confessed that and the way Harbin stilled, his breathing softening, as if her words had soothed him.

But she could feel the dangerous current of anger flowing under his calm surface too, could sense it in the growing connection between them.

Her words had served as both a balm and a poison, soothing yet hurting him.

“Why didn’t you?” His voice trembled the slightest amount, revealing the depth of his feelings to her.

Not his feelings now, but those of forty years ago.

Her behaviour had hurt him, and the resulting action he had taken had ended up hurting her.

“Because you had grown up so aggressive… so egotistical… taking whatever female you wanted because they wouldn’t deny you due to your position within the pride.” She barely stopped herself from adding more, reining in her own anger and reminding herself that it was ancient history now and nothing they did could change it. They had both made mistakes and they had both paid for them.

Were both still paying for them.

“Don’t sugar coat it.” Harbin growled at her. “Maybe if you hadn’t ditched me, I might have grown up differently.”

That one cut her deep and she turned her face away from him, whispering, “Maybe.”

He huffed and started pacing, his boots loud on the cold stone floor and his agitation flowing through her.

After their kiss, she had avoided him just as he had said, trying to get her head and her heart straight, and find the courage to approach him again. By the time she had realised that she liked him as more than a friend, and that she should have thrown convention out of the window and seized him with both hands, he had already been chasing other females. She had been glad when he had finally started leaving the pride females alone, heading down into the nearest mortal town for days at a time.

It had hurt her, but she’d had no claim to him, and a male of his status was allowed to do whatever he pleased. He hadn’t owed her anything.

She lifted her head and watched him pacing, his powerful body flexing with each fierce stride that carried him back and forth along the wall opposite her. He glanced at her from time to time, conflict reigning in his eyes and the feelings she could sense in him.

If she confessed that she had been hurt too, would that please him? Did he want to hear that her fear of crossing the boundary that had separated them had only ended up causing her pain for twenty years, until the night of the attack on their pride?

Gods, who was she fooling? It still hurt her now.

But she couldn’t judge him or hold the things he had done against him, because she hadn’t exactly been a saint herself. She had slept with many males during her years in London, using them to satisfy her urges, indulging in brief flings that had meant nothing, never allowing her partners to scratch the hardened surface of her heart and see what was beyond it. She had kept them all at a distance, using and losing them. Acting just as Harbin had.

No male had ever affected her in the way he did. Just being in the same room as him made it impossible to breathe, stirred fire in her veins and had her aching inside, yearning for his touch or the soft sweep of his lips across her overheating skin.

Did she affect him like this too?

A voice deep in her heart whispered she hoped so. Why?

Did she still want him as more than a friend?

The fire burning in her chest said that she did, regardless of the things he had done. Things she had no clue about. She felt as if everything she had known the past twenty years had been a lie and her one chance of straightening everything out so she could finally move on with her life was pacing like a caged animal in front of her, radiating tension and something else.

Something alluring that spoke to her instincts and made her want to step into his path so he would walk into her, his hard body pressing against hers and his heat seeping into her skin.

She wanted him to kiss her again, as he had at Archangel—fiercely, hungrily, and as if he would die without her.

She shoved that desire aside and focused instead on him, hearing his words ringing in her mind.

An assassin. A killer.

“What happened to you?” she whispered.

Harbin looked across at her and paused mid-stride. His expression shifted, turning pensive, and he came to rest on his heels. He was quiet for so long that she feared he wouldn’t answer, that he would leave her forever wondering about him.

“I never knew what happened to you,” he murmured and then sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, closed his eyes and hung his head. “As soon as I came around and I realised that the pride was in danger, I raced back there. I almost killed myself climbing the mountain… but I died when I reached the village.”

His jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth and the pain that flowed into her through their connection stole her breath and had her moving a step towards him, filled with a powerful need to comfort him.

“I saw the carnage… saw my mother and sister dead on the snow… and it was my fault. I cannot imagine what it had been like for you… for everyone… when Archangel had attacked. I only know how I felt then. I only remember the pain and the rage, and the burning need that consumed me.”

He opened his eyes and looked at her through his lashes, his irises glowing bright silver.

“I don’t remember much of what happened then… it’s fragmented. I know I shifted and went after Archangel, and I slaughtered many of them, but others got away. I don’t remember how I got back to the village but I think Cavanaugh was there.”

Aya’s heart went out to him. When cat shifters suffered a great loss, their primal side grew wild and feral, unable to handle the flood of powerful emotions. Harbin’s had taken control of him, his grief forcing him into his animal form and filling him with a need to hunt and kill the ones who had murdered his family and his kin. When he had lost track of the people who had attacked the pride, his instincts must have driven him back to his home to rest.

“My father exiled me, Aya.”

Hearing her name leaving his lips transported her back forty years and, for a moment, she saw the youthful boy he had been then, smiling and laughing at her. A second later, she saw him drenched in blood, his eyes cold and empty, nothing more than a heartless husk of a male.

She shook away that image of him and focused on the male standing before her now.

He had been through so much, and something told her she had only seen the tip of the iceberg and the path he had travelled after losing his place in the pride had been dark and terrible indeed. She had survived Hell for three years at Archangel’s hands, but at least her suffering had ended.

Harbin still suffered now.

It was there in his glowing eyes, his pain and fury still raw and powerful, still controlling his actions to a degree.

He wouldn’t stop suffering until he had wiped out every member of Archangel that had been present that night, and now he had the opportunity to do that, and she wanted in on it. She wanted the bitch who had used him and who had shoved her into a nightmare and then lied to her to pay for the things she had done, manipulating them both and changing the course of their lives for the worse.

“After my father made it clear I was no longer welcome at the pride, I did the only thing I could… I drifted from country to country, hunting down the remaining members of the Archangel team that had attacked our kin.” Harbin turned and sat down on the end of the double bed, a sigh leaving his lips as his backside hit the mattress and it dipped beneath his weight. “I crossed paths with Hartt when I was tracking a hunter from Archangel and he had been hired to take down the same target. Hartt saw some fucked up potential in me or something, because he convinced me to join the ranks of his guild. I could continue to hunt Archangel while taking care of other targets too and earning some money to support my vendetta.”

Aya walked to the wall and leaned against it, standing close to Harbin where he sat on the bed opposite her. He lifted his head and looked up at her. She knew what potential Hartt had seen in Harbin, because she could see it in him too and it hadn’t been forged in the fires of his time as an assassin. It had been born that night twenty years ago.

Hartt had known a killer when he had seen one, a male capable of taking lives without regretting his actions or the blood on his hands. Harbin had already killed many, had developed a hunger for tracking and eliminating targets. Hartt’s work to turn Harbin into an assassin had probably been minimal. All he’d had to do was tap into the hunger that still burned like ice in Harbin’s eyes, the desire for bloodshed and death.

A desire that should have made her want to keep her distance from him, but only made her want to take Harbin into her arms and hold him.

She wanted to take his pain away and show him that it was alright, that he had done the right thing, and his fight was coming to a close now. They would end this and both of them would be free of their pasts at last.

“I didn’t take much convincing.” Harbin smiled but there was no warmth in it or his silver eyes. “Hartt told me he was short on assassins, the number in the guild diminished by a war between two demon realms, and promised to share all information on Archangel that he received… and any mission that involved them.”

He leaned back, bracing his weight on his palms, and his torso tensed beneath his tight black t-shirt. It was a struggle to keep her eyes off his body and on his face, but she somehow managed it.

“I should have kept on with my mission.” His expression turned deadly serious again, the feelings flowing through her shifting to match it, becoming cold and calm.

She wished she could lock down her feelings as he could. It would have made standing so close to him easier on her, because she would have been able to shut down the desire that told her to cross the short span of floor to him, lower her hands to capture his cheeks, and kiss him. Something flickered in his eyes, his silvery brows briefly twitching into a frown as he looked up at her, and she quickly pushed away from thoughts of kissing him, aware that the ability to sense emotions ran both ways and he was picking up on the sudden spike in hers.

He shook his head.

“I shouldn’t have allowed the jobs that came to me through the guild to distract me from my hunt for the huntress.” A soft sigh left his lips, conveying so much regret and guilt that she pushed away from the wall and barely leashed her need to hold him. “I’m sorry, Aya. If I hadn’t lost my way… if I had stayed on course and kept my focus… you never would have been dragged into danger again.”

She raised her hands and pressed them to her chest as it warmed, heated by his tender words. They touched her, but part of her was glad that he had been side-tracked and had lost his way, because it had brought them to this point.

It had brought her to the start of a new path, a new life where she knew the truth and felt able to finally lay her past to rest and walk forwards into a brighter future.

It had brought them together again.

Aya stepped towards him and his eyes locked with hers, slowly widening as she closed the gap between them.

They were both different now.

She was no longer the meek girl who had been afraid to seize what she wanted with both hands and she was going to show him that. She was going to take what she wanted without any regrets. She was going to have Harbin.

Even when it couldn’t be forever.

Harbin tensed the moment Aya cupped his sculpted cheeks and edged backwards, attempting to evade her. She didn’t let him get far and his plan backfired, forcing her to move closer to him in order to keep hold of him. She nestled between his spread thighs, their knees touching, and he inhaled hard, his wide eyes speaking to her of the uncertainty she could feel rippling through him.

It reminded her of that day so many years ago when she had grabbed him and kissed him.

She had expected it then, but she hadn’t expected it now, when he had years of experience under his belt and had been looking at her as if he wanted to kiss her more times than she could count since their paths had crossed.

He swallowed and shook his head, his voice a mere whisper of warning. “Aya… don’t.”

She knew his fear, knew that she was pushing him too hard and was walking on thin ice, but she didn’t care. She had spent forty years wondering what it would have been like to be with him, and now she had the opportunity to find out. She had to take this chance while she could. In a matter of days, the reason they had come together might be over and then they would have to part ways again.

She might never see him again.

She wasn’t going to fool herself into thinking this could be anything other than a brief fling. She knew in her heart that he would never want to mate with her. When he had spoken of Cavanaugh having children, there had been a glimmer in his eyes, one that said he had considered such a future for himself.