To Mate an Assassin: The Lost Alphars Series, Book 1 (10 page)

Aaron grunted, playing with the end of his braid. “I’m beginning to appreciate you a bit more, little assassin. Tell me what you did for Riddan.”

“I hunted Weres convicted of grave crimes and rogues.”

“Who gave you the order and how did you get them?” Rhiannon asked without lifting her head from her phone.

“The orders are sent to a P.O. Box near my current place of residence, which changes every six to ten years. I was instructed that the person actually sending the orders could vary, but since nobody seemed to know of my existence it must have been Riddan who sent all the orders.”

The Captain leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “As hard as it is to admit Incendiaries are a real thing and not some scary story, I have to say a person of your qualifications could be helpful in situations involving rogues.”

“Have there been any rogues the past few years?” Cymbeline couldn’t help but ask, as she usually had to dispatch at least three per year.

“There were a large amount of rogues during Kerrick’s ascension, which, regrettably, is a normal occurrence when a new Alphar takes over. We sent teams to subdue them.” Aaron rung his hands together, his knuckles gone white. “There were at least twenty across the country, and we knew all of them.”

Cymbeline leaned forward, needing them to understand her purpose. “That’s what I’m here for,” she said gently. “You can depend on me to hunt and take any rogues down.”

Rhiannon snorted. “You were the Incendiary three years ago. Where were you then? Anyway, do you think Kerrick is going to allow you to keep hunting? Voluntarily put his mate in danger?”

“He does not have any say in the matter,” Cymbeline said shortly, disturbed by the idea she would not be allowed to fulfill her purpose in life. “I am the Incendiary and I will be the Incendiary for this territory until I die.”

“He won’t accept that.”

Cymbeline schooled her emotions, containing her anger no matter how much she wanted to rail at them. It would be too dangerous to let it all go. “He will have to be a big boy, suck it up, and deal with it.”

Aaron raised his eyebrows, a small smile peeking at his lips. “Fascinating. Do you know how many women would kill to be in your position? He’s handsome, he’s strong, and he’s a good man. He is the most powerful shifter on the North American continent.”

“If you admire him so much, perhaps you should appeal to be his mate. I am sure you would make a darling couple.”

Rhiannon burst out laughing, obviously surprised the assassin had a sense of humor. Cymbeline had been rigorously trained throughout her childhood and had lived in isolation the majority of her lifetime, but she was not without a sense of humor. In all honesty she would have actually gone insane without finding little details about life to amuse herself.

“He’s not my type,” Aaron grumbled.

“Ah, you prefer husky men?” She couldn’t stop herself, the annoyed look on Aaron’s face was fuel to her sarcastic fire. “Shorter men? Although compared to your stature everyone must seem short.” She had never acted in such a manner with anyone other than Irisi before meeting these people. Chatting with them oddly brought something out of her that made her want to poke and tease. To have fun and not think of hunting.

“Wow,” Rhiannon said. “Just wow. I like her.” She turned to Cymbeline. “I like you. You get to stay if you keep teasing this tub of lard.”

Cymbeline groaned. “That is precisely what I do not want.” She squeezed the arms of her chair in frustration, the caged feeling returning once again. “Let me go. I will return to my residence. You will never see me again and when you have a rogue problem, notify me and the problem will go away. I will take care of it efficiently and quietly. Tactfully.”

“Tactfully?” Aaron asked.

“My kills are always humane. Something my trainers insisted upon. These rogues were members of our society at one point. They had parents and friends and perhaps just made a poor choice in deciding to Turn. Or maybe the choice was not theirs to begin with. Having been human, I understand the pressures of dealing with the Turn.” The majority of rogues were, sadly, newly Turned shifters. Not every Turn goes smoothly, and not every human was meant to handle the dual nature of a shifter life.

Aaron nodded. “That’s good to hear.”

“I am also skilled in the art of torture.”

“The art?” Rhiannon asked blankly.

“Oh yes. There are many different forms of torture, many different ways to extract information. I am not usually used in such a manor but it is something I am fully capable of. If you need it.”

“Splendid,” Aaron said sarcastically. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Now,” Rhiannon said with a smile Cymbeline did not like. “Back to mating.”

“Enough.”

“Are you a virgin?”

Cymbeline’s face heated at the blunt question. “What? Why— How is that any of your business? What does it matter?”

“I only ask because the mating process can be quite…vigorous. Or so I’ve heard. I’m not mated. But you said you were isolated for a long time and—”

“It is not any of your business,” Cymbeline repeated.

“I’ll assume yes, then.” Rhiannon made a note on her smart phone.

“Assume whatever you like. I am not discussing this and don’t write it down like something out of a therapy session.”

Rhiannon placed a concerned hand on Cymbeline’s knee and asked, “Do you need a sex education lesson?”

“No!” Cymbeline shook her knee to dislodge Rhiannon’s hand, her annoyance on the rise. “I do
not
need that. I am fifty-nine years old. I think I know how fucking works. Thank you. Lecture over.”

“Not over. You need to hear this as you’re a virgin.” Cymbeline’s aggravation wriggled the lock on her tightly bound emotions. She growled at Rhiannon’s ceaseless barrage of unwanted information. “As the mating progresses without consummation the sexual tension increases, influencing the body to give in to the mating.” Rhiannon eyed her. “You get that? You’re gonna get hotter and wetter every time you see Kerrick and try to ignore the mating call. Your Wolf is also going to get more and more feisty. You might start to spontaneously shift.”

“I am in far more control of my Wolf than to allow a spontaneous shift.”

“You won’t be able to help it,” Aaron added, “Your Wolf will want to be near her mate and she will take over come hell or high water especially since you are in such a deep state of denial.”

“I am not in denial. There is just no possible way I would ever consummate a mating, if there even was one, with the Alphar. I am the Incendiary—”

“Yeah, you keep saying that,” Aaron grumbled.

“I live a solitary life so I may assist the Weres of this territory in living peaceful lives. I am necessary to your way of life and I sure as hell do not mate! Now unchain me, goddamn it!” Her breath came in rapid bursts and her heart pounded. She realized she was standing and had been shouting, the tips of her fingers had turned to claws. Her tongue touched two sharp points on her teeth. She was losing it. She had to be more careful. She could feel the reason for her emotional training hovering on the periphery of her consciousness, waiting for Cymbeline to lose control and destroy all in its path.

She schooled her expression and sat back down, taking a few deep breaths to regain at least an outwardly calm demeanor. “Excuse me. I would like some time to myself now.”

Aaron and Rhiannon exchanged looks before standing and moving towards the door. Aaron turned back before exiting. “Listen to your Wolf. Trust her in the choice she’s made. Kerrick is a good man. He’d make you happy.”

“I do not doubt his character. But there is no room for negotiation on this subject. Please go.”

As they shut the door Cymbeline grudgingly turned her attention inward and listened to the keening cries of her Wolf, calling out for the mate they had yet to claim. What would it be like? To have someone to come home to after a hunt. Not to be surrounded by endless silence and just waiting for the next target. In the end, it just didn’t matter. She knew who she was and what she had to do. It was bad enough she had already broken the rules of not becoming emotionally attached back home…and look where that got her. One more break of the rules and she’d find herself in an even bigger mess.

Cymbeline thought of the small girl waiting for her back home, the scrawny thing most likely hiding out in Cymbeline’s cabin. She couldn’t stay here much longer, the weight of her responsibilities too heavy to take a small vacation and get to know her mate. Gods, that word. Every time she thought or said it, her Wolf cried out in equal parts need and joy. Cymbeline felt it, but she didn’t understand it. Couldn’t understand how one kiss could make her body need so sharply, make her hair stand on end and her core turn to molten lava. It wasn’t fair that after years and years of training, she’d finally adjusted to and accepted the kind of life she was going to have, and then he was thrown in her path. Dangled in front of her like some treat she could never have. Her own personal addiction.

He was just a man. A man who apparently loved playing string instruments of every variety and had two cousins who loved and respected him, who would die for him. He was a man whose force of will turned the spiritual tide of his territory. Efficiently beating down the remnants of chaos so completely that there had been zero reported rogues in the past few years since the power from his ascension waned. Not a single rogue in three years was close to a miracle. She hadn’t dealt with zero rogues in a year since…never. There had always been at least three per year and those numbers increased as her tenure as Incendiary continued.

Was she doing the right thing, refusing him so completely? What if her refusing him affected his rule, turned the tide of his territory back into the frenzied miasma of Riddan’s rule? Was it her responsibility as his chosen mate to make sure that didn’t happen? She shook her head, standing to run her hands along the tiny guitar’s strings, as she’d done a hundred times since gaining the strength to walk again. She could never mate the Alphar. How would she ever know she’d chosen him for herself, and not out of guilt or responsibility to keep the territory safe?

Later that night, after Lottie had brought her food and checked her vitals for the evening, making sure the Vryk poison wasn’t causing any delayed side effects, Cymbeline sat on the sill of one of the many large windows in the room. Whoever constructed this room really had an understanding of a shifter’s needs. It had no artificial air, needing none as opening the windows alone created the perfect cross breeze, making the room feel like it rested in the middle of an open field, surrounded by wilderness.

She sat with one leg bent, her elbow resting on the knee and hand cradling her chin. She ran her thumb up and down the old scar alongside her neck as she tried to come up with ways of escaping, her memories constantly intruding and forcing her to think back on all the men and women she’d hunted over the years, most of them rogues. The rogues were the hardest to kill. They were pure blood-lust animal, their human minds completely evaporated and their animal side taking over in the worst way. No conscious, no care for the ones they used to love. It was a blessing Cymbeline didn’t need to enmesh herself with friends or family, she couldn’t imagine doing what she did and having to look in the eyes of the ones who knew the rogue. As it was she pitied the team Aaron had assembled to take down the rogues they’d had after Riddan died, not knowing it was her responsibility to take care of it.

The wind shifted, bringing an intoxicating scent blowing through the windows and making her heart stop. The Alphar was out there, running the property. What if she was out there with him? She longed to know what that felt like, running with a friend or someone she loved. A shadowed figure stopped just beyond the gate, the
tapetum lucidum
reflecting light back into his eyes and making them glow. Many humans and even some preternatural species ignorant of shifter biology thought this was some physical evidence of magic in their shifted bodies, and yes, while the shift was in essence a magical construct, the light in the eyes of animals at night was pure, boring biology. Nothing special there, she knew that. Except when the eyes reflecting back at her held a core of strength and represented everything she’d never known she wanted or needed.

The Alphar stayed there, staring at her for so long until he jerked his head, beckoning her to come to him, asking her to run. Cymbeline smiled, sensing he would jump to her window and break her chains if she said yes. She appreciated the invitation but shook her head in a decline nonetheless. She turned from the window and sat in front of the fireplace instead, watching the embers crackle and snap until the sun rose the next day. She’d seek the Alphar out tomorrow and beg for him to remove the cuffs if she had to, but she couldn’t remain there any longer. Cymbeline would rather relinquish any pride she had left and beg to run away from him than have the tantalizing promise of what he was dangled in front of her, reminding her of what she wasn’t allowed to have.

Chapter Seven

The following day, Kerrick walked briskly down the hallway leading to his room, the light and cool breezes drifting in from the open archways were little comfort to him that morning. He had planned on sleeping in a guest room close to his own the previous evening, especially after hearing of the outburst she’d had during her talk with Aaron and Rhiannon. But he couldn’t sleep, not with the knowledge his mate was so close to him yet so far, denying him over and over again.

So he’d run, taking comfort in the familiar smell and feel of cool grass at night, the crickets chirping and small nocturnal creatures poking their noses out to take a sniff of him. He understood the importance of connecting with the wild creatures in the surrounding areas, they saw more than most of the intelligent species would give them credit for. But this was their territory as well as his, the planet was theirs and had been before humans learned magic and evolved into the unique and powerful creatures they were now.

Her denial of a run with him had given him a new determination to make her see him, a new outlook on the situation. Yes, he was busy with the escalating Vryk tensions as his conference with Carter the previous day had ended with a bad call from Mara, recalling a reluctant Carter back to her. If he were a normal shifter, or even an average alpha of a pack, his people would understand him setting aside any and all pack matters to get to know her. Kerrick wasn’t able to do that, a war with Mara would be too devastating on the delicate balance he’d created for his people the past few years. He wanted to push it all aside and focus on Cymbeline, and his closest confidants—his family—were offering to help in any way they could.

It was hard for Kerrick to delegate even the easy things to Rhiannon and Aaron, no matter how capable he knew them to be. Hell, his head soldier Jeremiah was more than qualified to handle emergencies. That morning, as he’d discussed some mansion matters with his top people, even Lottie had asked if there was anything she could do for him to give him time with his mate.

“She’s not that scary, Alphar,” she’d said with a small smile on her gaunt face, her frizzy curls falling from the bun she’d thrown them in not ten minutes prior. “You need to get to know her or this won’t end happily.” Lottie had taken his hand and nuzzled her face against his palm, a small gesture of love from a pack member, a woman who worked harder than most at The Mansion, no matter how ill or tired she was. “We want you to be happy.”

So with a stubborn yet grateful agreement, he’d delegated to his most trusted soldiers, and in the end he was able to put aside his worries. It didn’t matter whether they were Captain, physician, or Magic-tech like Zach, these people were his greatest warriors. He thanked the fates for them every day, and hoped he’d never lose sight of how important they were to him as his years as Alphar passed. If he had a mate, she would remind him. The kind of fierce mate Cymbeline would be wouldn’t let him forget. The thought of her chastising him for taking one of his people for granted made him smile, a small peek into what their life could be like. But he wouldn’t have a life with her until he got to know her and she accepted him.

He reached the bedroom door and sighed, he really was fucking terrible at this mating crap. He held his hand up to knock on the door, but paused as the image of her sleeping on his bed flashed through his mind. Gods, her scent would be on his sheets. Did she sleep naked? Probably. She was contained and reserved on the outside, but he could see the wild, animalistic warrior beneath the façade. There was something to be said for accepting a challenge she’d silently presented him with. It gave him a buzz of excitement thinking of ways to make her finally accept that he was hers, and he’d never give up on her. No matter how many times she denied him, he’d still be there for her. It had the potential to be a disastrous existence, but he’d do it to keep her.

Resolve fortified, Kerrick knocked on the door, entering only when he heard her give permission. Cymbeline sat with her back to him on a window seat, staring out the glass and dressed in the generic workout sweatpants and T-shirt Rhiannon had left her. They kept a countless amount of spare clothes on hand in case a Were lost them during a quick shift. Her hair was loose and curled around her head like a puff of clouds. It was slightly frizzier than it had been when he first met her. He preferred this relaxed and wild look. He didn’t want to see those airy curls controlled ever again, this woman was meant to live wild. Every time he saw her there was something new he’d notice that made him want her more and more.

“Are you going to stand there and stare at me all day or are you going to tell me the reason for your visit?” She kept her gaze on the window but Kerrick would bet a small fortune she wasn’t seeing anything in front of her.

“How are you feeling today?” he asked, coming around and sitting on the bed across from her. She kept her gaze averted.

“Well, operating at full capacity once more.”

“Good, I didn’t like seeing you in that state. You’re a fighter, a warrior. Losing the use of your limbs is suffocating.” She gave him an odd side-glance at his words but didn’t respond. Seeing that she wasn’t about to bring up her denial of a run with him the night before he decided not to push. “Now, I would appreciate it if you put these on.” He tossed a pair of thin silver cuffs onto the bench. She picked one up, sniffed and turned back to him with a glare. It was a like a punch in the gut having those gold-ringed eyes focused on him, even in anger. He wanted her, this dangerous and sexy woman.

“More magical restraints? I think I am well and truly your captive, Alphar.” She let the cuff fall from her hand and onto the window seat. “Talk about suffocating, I can’t even shift.”

“These will replace the ones you’re wearing. Can’t walk around The Mansion with a magical chain trailing behind you.”

“No, that position is already held by you.” He smiled at her acerbic comment, enjoying her bite. It may have been an insult but it was also a hint of personality and humor. He’d take what he could get. His words caught up with her after a few moments of glaring. “Walk around The Mansion?” she finally asked.

“Yes. I’m giving you a tour. Those will keep you unrestrained and free to move about The Mansion, also allowing you to shift. But they will still keep you from hurting anyone who resides here and from leaving The Mansion boundary, where the fence is. Unfortunately we haven’t been able to find any record of you in Riddan’s files and I can’t let you free to come and go until I know for sure you’re not a threat. I’m sorry for that, but I’m responsible for those living here.”

“How does this keep me from going beyond the fence? Is it going to shock me like an electric dog collar?”

“Nope. Something much more embarrassing. Trust me,” he said with a grin on the bad side of evil.

She frowned, considering him for a moment. Eventually she nodded and turned towards him, holding her arms out. Kerrick took the cuffs from the seat and placed the first on her left forearm. He made sure to brush and skim her skin as much as possible, being firm yet gentle. Outwardly, she evoked an emotionless automaton, but he could scent her arousal, the way her skin heated at his touch. She wanted him, no matter how hard she was trying to deny it.

As he placed the second silver cuff on her right arm, Kerrick could visibly see a struggle to keep her breathing smooth and even, and all this just from the anticipation of his touch. He took longer to snap it into place, holding her under her elbow with one hand and placing the cuff with the other. He watched the seam of the cuff magically disappear as it connected. The metal glowed a subtle green, indicating its magical activation.

Kerrick looked into her eyes, rubbing the tip of her elbow with his thumb as he held it, tracing his fingers across the smooth skin of her forearm and down to her hand. Her mouth parted, taking in more air with every stroke and touch of his fingers. Kerrick kept his eyes connected with hers as he bent to kiss her palm. She closed her eyes briefly when his tongue peeked out to taste her. It took all his strength as Alphar to not take her then and there.

Kerrick stood and dropped her hand, needing the space to keep his wits about him. He traced his forefinger along the metal of the chained, clunky cuffs and released them with a pulse of his magic. They snapped open and fell from Cymbeline’s wrists, as Zach had promised they would once he’d tuned them to Kerrick’s power signature. The long chains disappeared and they returned to their normal length, no larger than traditional police handcuffs.

“Come on,” he said walking towards the door. “Do you have shoes?” He knew they took her boots away, wanting to inspect them for hidden tracking devices or weapons. They’d found zero trackers and six lethal weapons. She had definitely come prepared.

“Rhiannon was kind enough to supply me with these…garments.” She held up a pair of flip-flops that were decorated with sparkles and Hello Kitty symbols.

“Pink suits you,” he said, trying and failing to hold back his laughter. “And they’re called sandals or flip-flops.”

“I know what they are. I was merely showing you my disdain for the ridiculous shoes by not calling them by name.” She let them fall to the floor and placed her small feet into the straps.

“So by not calling me by my given name, are you showing me respect for my position or disdain?”

She smiled, but it wasn’t friendly. “I’ll leave that for you to decide, Alphar.”

He grinned right back and gestured toward the door. “After you.”

Exiting the room, they made a left down the hall and walked in silence. Her sharp eyes went everywhere, taking in her surroundings, probably plotting escape routes. He didn’t mind, he’d disliked keeping her locked up the past day, even though he hadn’t trusted her with his people enough to give her free range.

“The windows,” she started before turning away.

“What?”

“Everything is so open here, your room too. It’s good for shifters.”

“Even places this large can be confining. We have a lot of shifters living here and some of them come from troubled backgrounds. They need to know they’re free to wander, to explore as their animal desires.”

“Troubled backgrounds? I thought this place was your headquarters.”

“It is, but that doesn’t mean it’s off limits to my people. Sometimes shifters get into trouble, or lose their balance, it doesn’t mean they’re evil or turning rogue. There is usually some mitigating circumstances to consider. So they come here to heal or to train. It’s pointless to throw shifters away or have them hunted because they are a little antisocial.”

“That is different,” she mumbled, her hand reaching up to trace the scar on her neck in thought.

“From Riddan’s way of doing things?” She nodded. “I’ll take that as a compliment. How long have you been Incendiary?”

“Almost thirty years.”

“You only knew him during the worst times. He’d been on the edge of losing his mind a century ago, but a century ago I wasn’t strong enough to take his place. There were no other potential Alphars known in the territory at the time so I waited until I was confident enough in my powers to take the Alphar seat from him.” Her eyes were distant as he spoke, leading her slowly into the main wing of The Mansion where some of the more public rooms were located. Thirty years of having Riddan point the finger at who to execute, who to hunt. It must have been torture. Then again, it could have been longer if Jeremiah hadn’t convinced Kerrick he was strong enough to take Riddan.

“I know what you are thinking,” she said suddenly.

“Do you?”

“I knew from meeting the former Alphar that he was not…right.” They stopped outside the library, one of the first rooms he wanted to show her. “There was little sanity left in him, I saw that. But he treated me with respect when we met, was very clear about my responsibilities. I never doubted the men and women he sent me to hunt were guilty, and the rogues were most obviously rogues. You cannot fake that wild madness they possess.”

“He didn’t treat anyone here with respect, why you?” Kerrick asked, opening the door for her.

She stopped before moving past him, her somber eyes meeting his. “An Alphar and an Incendiary are supposed to have a mutually respectful, delicate relationship. They may not meet often, the nature of the Incendiary’s life needing to be kept secret to have any sort of effect on the populace, but they need one another.” A small, considering frown hinted at how the unbalanced nature of their particular relationship bothered her. “That is how it is supposed to be. I always figured he had a long relationship with the Incendiary before me, otherwise he would have treated me with the same crazed suspicion he treated everyone else. Whoever the last Incendiary was, he or she was important to the Alphar.”

They moved through the library quietly, stopping every now and then to speak to passing shifters. After the library they stopped in the large room he’d converted from a formal dining room and into a type of food court and community area. The kitchens were nearby so it made sense to have a place all the residents, soldiers and visitors of The Mansion could relax and gather. Shifters took strength from one another, and Kerrick often found the orphaned or cast-out shifters talking with the soldiers or elder members they could look up to and learn from.

Seeing their Alphar was with someone, the soldiers and members of The Mansion left him alone for the most part. Some of the smaller children came up to him for a scruff or a smile, just wanting love and attention from their Alphar and the new shifter they were unfamiliar with. Cymbeline seemed uncomfortable with the interactions, even though she smiled when one of the kids shifted unexpectedly into a Tiger cub and began batting at the baggy fabric of her sweatpants. The cub’s older sister came to collect him quickly, apologizing to Cymbeline for the small tears in the fabric.

“He hasn’t learned to not use claws yet, sorry,” the young girl said, cuddling the small cub into her chest as they walked back to the group of teens she’d been chatting with.

Cymbeline hadn’t responded to the apology, just nodded and watched the girl resume her conversation with the other teens. Seeing something about this place bothered her, probably not used to witnessing so many shifters all together, he guided her out of the food court and back through the halls, knowing exactly where he wanted to take her next.