Claimed by the Assassins (An Academy of Assassins Novel Book 3) Read online

  Claimed by the Assassins

  An Academy of Assassins Novel

  Stacey Brutger

  SECRETS THREATEN TO DESTROY THE ACADEMY. IF THE ASSASSINS CAN’T WORK TOGETHER, THE ACADEMY WILL FALL AND CHAOS WILL REIGN.

  The assassins have their hands full chasing down the creatures who’ve fled to the human world. Too bad Morgan has been consigned to the schoolroom, too valuable as the future heir to the crown to be risked. Not one to kick up her heels and do nothing, Morgan is determined to find out how to control her powers so she can protect what is hers…even if she has to sneak behind her team’s backs to do so.

  But what should’ve been a time to settle down with her mates turns deadly when secrets are exposed. Morgan is furious, but determined to fight for the chance to have a future with her men…even if she must challenge the sea queen to prove her claim on Draven.

  The sea queen is vicious and will do whatever is necessary to get what she wants…and she wants Draven. There is always a price to pay for defying the queen, but her mates refuse to let Morgan pay the price alone.

  When a deal is struck, Morgan and her team must survive the next three days of being hunted by the queen’s mightiest champions. If she fails, she and her mates will die, and Draven will be forced into a life of slavery for all eternity.

  An Academy of Assassins Novel : Book 3

  Meet the Assassins: Morgan, Kincade, Ascher, Ryder, Draven and Atlas.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations for articles or reviews. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials.

  Copyright © 2019 Stacey Brutger

  Cover artist: Amanda Kelsey of Razzle Dazzle Design (www.razzdazzdesign.com)

  Editor: Faith Freewoman (www.demonfordetails.com)

  Proofreader: Jan A.

  Beta Reader: Christina Diaz

  All rights reserved.

  Chapter One

  Six weeks later…

  Morgan clung to the shadows as she crept through the Academy. She’d left Loki and Stanley snuggled up on her bed, the cat’s snores loud enough to annoy even the statues in the stone garden beneath the windows of their dorm. Some of the statues had covered their ears, while the majority of them just moved away one painful inch at a time.

  It was near midnight, but the Academy had been mostly empty ever since the attack six weeks ago, the place more of a way station than a school, where teams of assassins were sent on assignments one after another, trying to send the surge of illegals back through the void. If the escapees refused to return to Mount Olympus on their own, a team was sent to convince them. And if the visitors were a threat, the assassins would take care of the problem.

  Hell, she only saw the guys when she could sneak away from classes, more often than not finding them sound asleep, sprawled across their beds in exhaustion.

  Tonight the halls were empty, but she had to be careful to avoid the patrols.

  She knew they were there to protect the school, but they felt more like prison guards.

  She made her way toward the back of the Academy, the large doors looming in the darkness. She paused, listened to her surroundings, but couldn’t sense even the slightest movement as she carefully inched forward. She cracked open the door just a fraction, watching for the wolves who patrolled the grounds. When the area appeared clear, she eased out into the crisp night air.

  Stars twinkled over the first brush of snow dusting the stones. Her breath fogged the air as she crouched low and scurried toward the balcony, then quickly vaulting over the railing. She stumbled backwards on the narrow ledge, teetering precariously before she caught her balance, sending small stones tumbling down the steep ravine hundreds of feet below.

  Knowing the noise would bring attention to the area sooner rather than later, thanks to the damn enhanced wolf hearing, she hurriedly tugged the coil of rope off her shoulders and tied the end to the railing, then threw the remaining length down the mountain, watching it disappear into the darkness.

  Then, without hesitation, she grabbed the line and began to rappel down the near-vertical incline. She ran out of rope quickly, but it had done its job, helping her descend rapidly to escape detection.

  She was sick of staying behind at the Academy while everyone else went out hunting.

  She was one of the best hunters at the Academy, having trained for the job all her life, and it stuck in her craw that they started treating her like a first-year student when the truth about her royal background came into light. She understood their protectiveness—the king wasn’t one to fuck with at any time—but enough was enough.

  She scaled the rest of the way down, the handholds a fair distance apart, forcing her to dangle from one hold, then drop a dozen or so feet to grab the next small ledge. Gravel and rocks tore at her hands, and grit cascaded down until she resembled a damn powdered donut.

  By the time she reached the bottom her arms ached. There were large scrapes down both forearms, and it felt like she had dirt between her teeth and lining her clothes. She yanked out her ponytail, leaned forward, flinging her hair over her head and scratched her scalp, watching dirt rain down.

  A long, drawn-out wolf whistle split the air. Morgan froze, then straightened abruptly, her hair whipping through the air, to find Draven leaning casually against the base of the mountaintop, his turbulent, frosty blue eyes locked on her feet. Then he slowly dragged his gaze up her body until her insides squirmed with heat.

  His black hair was longer, almost unkempt. While slim, he was deceptively muscular, the perfect physique for one of the best trained assassins in the Academy. Worse, whenever he drew close, he smelled of brownies and other chocolate goodness, inviting a girl to take a taste. If the raw sex appeal and scent weren’t enough to draw women to him in droves, his natural charisma and charm—a signature of his siren background—sealed the deal.

  He casually lifted the radio in his hand, his eyes locked on hers, a delicious promise in them when he clicked on the receiver of the two-way he held. “I win the bet.”

  He gave her a rakish grin, but the seductive mood was shattered by his announcement. Her insides went cold, and Morgan narrowed her eyes at him. “What bet?”

  The radio disappeared when he shoved it in his back pocket, and he lazily straightened from his slouch. “I guessed you’d take the mountainside to make good your escape. It’s the hardest way out, but practically the only way to leave the Academy undetected.”

  Morgan didn’t move as he sauntered toward her, royally pissed that they discovered her escape before she even had a chance to leave the Academy grounds. She cocked her head as she studied him, and something about his cheerful expression hit her radar. “The rest of the guys are still at the Academy.”

  She waved him to silence when he opened his mouth, and she pointed her finger at him. “How many nights have you been waiting for me to escape?”

  He pursed his lips at her accusation, then muttered, “A week.”

  Morgan couldn’t help it. A snort of laughter escaped as she pictured the men scattered around the Academy in the dark, impatiently waiting for her to sneak out.

  “We knew you were going to do it
eventually,” he protested, but humor had his sea blue eyes whirling. “I’m actually surprised you managed to wait so long.”

  When he sauntered past her, she followed him on the trail, her shoulders slumping in defeat as they headed up the steep, winding path back toward the Academy. “What gave me away?”

  He gave her an amused glance over his shoulder. “Do you really need to ask?”

  Morgan just stared at him blankly, and he sighed.

  “We knew you were plotting the moment you fell silent.”

  She scowled at him and muttered, “Did not.”

  He cast her another amused glance. “Did too.”

  She glared at the back of his head, imagining cracking him over the skull with a rock and continuing with her escape. Unfortunately he had a hard head. She’d bet not even a good-sized rock would even make a dent…but it was worth a shot. She’d just reached down for a stone when he startled her by turning and began walking backwards.

  “What’cha doin’?”

  “Nothing.” She jerked upright, shoved her hands behind her back, the rock hitting the ground with a heavy thump before rolling between them, and she casually toed it away, giving him a wide, innocent smile.

  He didn’t say anything for a full minute before he stepped to the side. “Maybe you should go first.”

  She wasn’t sure how they did it, but the guys always seemed to know what she was going to do before she did. Talk about frustrating! Morgan hated it.

  How was she supposed to learn stealth when the guys knew her every move?

  She tromped forward, heaving out another sigh over being caught.

  Again.

  “Draven—”

  “No can do, babe.” He lifted the radio and wiggled it when she glanced back at him. “They already know we’re together.”

  She whirled, walking backward, blinking up at him pleadingly in a way she knew would make him cave. “But—”

  “Nope.” He hastily dropped his gaze, refusing to look at her. “Your wiles won’t work on me, woman.” He flung out an accusing finger, his eyes carefully averted. “Don’t even try it.”

  Huffing in defeat, Morgan turned around, frustration bringing tears to her eyes, but she quickly blinked them away.

  They traveled the remaining distance in silence, the steep incline of the pathway making her calves ache.

  “Morgan.”

  “What?” She snapped, and only paused when she noticed that he wasn’t following, but couldn’t make herself turn to face him without giving into the desire to smack the shit out of him.

  “How do you feel about going on a little…outing?”

  “Really?” Pure joy shot through her, and she whirled toward him, practically bouncing on her feet. When she saw him nod toward a tiny crevice in the stone wall, she realized it was a passageway. She eagerly wiggled through the small space, uncaring of the darkness, her eyes adjusting quickly, ignoring the way Draven moaned and bitched about it as he followed a step behind her.

  Morgan was going to be the death of him.

  Draven had agreed to watch the ledge because the others would lose their shit if they saw her climbing down the steep, vertical incline. They were her mates, and her safety affected them more. He didn’t think it would be a big deal. If he wanted to escape the Academy, the most likely place that wouldn’t be watched was the sheer cliff face. When he first saw Morgan toss over the rope, he snorted a laugh, more than a little amused.

  Then she ran out of rope.

  Instead of admitting defeat, her face hardened and she determinedly continued her escape, dropping almost fifteen feet at a time, giving him heart palpitations. He would’ve yelled at her, but didn’t want to startle her and risk her falling.

  Morgan took risks without thinking about the consequences. The woman was more than capable of taking care of herself, and yet when he saw her dangling off the side of the cliff and drop to the next handhold, it took ten years off his life. His guts churned as he saw the tiny ledges disintegrate under her fingertips. His chest hurt, and he still couldn’t swallow, all because of the way she so casually risked her life.

  When she reached the ground, he would’ve marched up to her and shaken her if he’d been sure his knees wouldn’t give out on him. Instead of kissing the ground because she managed to descend safely, she casually shook the dirt out of her hair, striking a porn star pose that stole the last of his thoughts.

  When he finally had enough spit in his mouth to confront her, his will had weakened, totally captivated by the fire in her eyes when she gazed at him…only to see it doused when he ordered her to march back inside.

  He couldn’t do that to her.

  He wouldn’t break her spirit.

  If she wanted to hunt, he was going to damn well take her hunting, even if he had to sneak her past the rest of the team.

  Morgan passed through the twists and turns of the passageway without direction, no doubt her inner compass sensing the way. It wasn’t long before lights could be seen ahead, which meant the others were still waiting instead of heading out to hunt.

  Disappointment pinged through him.

  He barely got any time alone with her.

  Granted, he wasn’t her mate, so he had no right to her time, but with or without the mating mark, he knew deep in his soul that she belonged to him just as much as the others. He quickly went through different scenarios to convince them to take her with them, half-tempted to use his powers of persuasion to convince the guys if it would make Morgan happy.

  He needed to find a way to break the fucking spell cast over him, because Atlas was correct. Sooner or later, the bitch who claimed he was her mate would show up for him, whether he liked it or not.

  He barely escaped with his life the last time, and he’d be damned if he’d fall into that bitch’s clutches again.

  “You promise you’ll take me hunting?” Morgan stopped abruptly and swung around to face him, her expression a mixture of excitement and a stern frown. Fuck if she wasn’t adorable when she tried to glower.

  She glanced over her shoulder, no doubt hearing the others ahead. If she thought for one second that he would renege on their deal, she would skin him alive and enjoy it.

  Hell, despite the pain, he’d enjoy it too, since his body constantly craved even her briefest touch.

  He was pathetic.

  But he wasn’t complaining.

  He would take a little piece of heaven with her over a good fuck with any other girl. When she shifted impatiently, practically bouncing on her feet, he repressed another smile and drew a cross over his heart with his finger. “I promise.”

  Fuck if he wouldn’t kidnap her from the others and take her hunting if that’s what it took to make her happy.

  A breath-stealing smile crossed her face, her joy so pure his heart gave another painful pinch. Being a siren, he never thought he would fall in love…not really, not when his touch caused others to fall so easily in lust.

  He assumed love was a fairytale.

  A trap for the unwary.

  Until he met her.

  Sheer pleasure shone on her face. She only had to bat those pretty blue eyes in his direction and he lost his train of thought. She bounded toward him, and he automatically caught her waist and pulled her close, her curves resting perfectly against him.

  He stiffened slightly, quickly studying her face intently, both wanting to see lust in her eyes and dreading it at the same time.

  When her lips crashed over his, he fell back against the stone wall. Her taste went straight to his head like a shot of single malt.

  Much too soon, she wiggled away and scurried down the passageway, leaving him behind, slumped against the wall, struggling to remember how to breathe. This wasn’t supposed to happen to him, and he stared dazedly toward where she disappeared, wondering if that’s what his siren’s touch felt like to others. His lips tingled, hunger curling through him as his other half woke with a vengeance, craving more…demanding more.

  He bare
ly pulled back the hunger, stopped himself from loping after her, almost desperate to lay hands on her, eager for just one more taste…just one more sip. When the crippling hunger abated, he was left shaking and light-headed.

  He’d never tasted anyone like her—she radiated power and light that left him tingling from head to toe. Usually a feeding left him satisfied, his sexual need sated, the ravenous hunger of his beast placated for at least a little while.

  With her, he just wanted more…like an addiction.

  A taste wasn’t enough.

  Not nearly enough.

  His knees quivered as he moved away from the wall, like he just had the best sex of his life.

  He didn’t know how the guys could survive being around her when just one touch from her slayed him.

  When the silence settled around him, Draven cursed.

  She wasn’t coming back.

  The guys were acutely aware that she didn’t need them to survive, but he knew they very much needed her within touching distance for them to even breathe.

  He hurried out of the alcove, scurrying after her, knowing the guys were going to kill him when they discovered the change of plans.

  He couldn’t suppress a devilish grin…he could hardly wait.

  Chapter Two

  Morgan squeezed and wiggled through the narrow passageway, cursing her generous curves when her back scraped painfully against the rock for the hundredth time. She wasn’t sure how the hell the guys managed to cram their large-ass frames in such a tight space…unless being part mouse was encoded into their DNA.

  She would turn and glare at Draven if she had room, the bastard no doubt having little problem keeping up with her in spite of the squeeze.

  The light became brighter, so close she could almost feel it on her skin, when she came to the last tiny bend in the tunnel that had no doubt been created by Snow White’s demented dwarves.