The missed target

“No...” she whispered, her body awash with apprehension.

“Mate!” Her wolf cried again and again, trying to leap out of her breast and launch herself at him. Her body was already half off the seat and on the dais, he also took a step forward, staring at her like he was thunderstruck.

Freya wrestled control from her wolf and planted her ass back down, breathing hard.

“What is this?” Her mind spun. “It must be a trick.”

Yes! He must somehow be manipulating her into thinking she found her mate. She didn’t know how but the sneaky bastard was trying to weasel out of the sure death that awaited him. She blinked and his composure was back in place. He wasn’t looking at her anymore, he was instead staring at the female that just appeared at the end of the aisle. The music started and the bride walked down the aisle towards... her mate! Outrage brought her to her feet and her chest twisted painfully with some horrible emotion.

“My mate! Mine!!!” Her wolf cried, rattling her cage and lethal claws punched out of her fingers which she quickly concealed.

“No.” She shook her head, backing away. It must be a mistake, she had never asked for a mate and she didn’t want one. She shuddered as her wolf wrestled control with her and she cursed and closed her hands into fists to hide the claws that wouldn’t go down. She hated the presence of her wolf because unlike her other half that was trained as an assassin to feel nothing, her wolf felt everything!

The bride stopped in front of him and her mate took the other woman’s hand. Freya seethed, unable to control her emotions. She should retreat, approach this situation when she was more in control but her feet were stuck.

Over his bride’s shoulder, his eyes slid back to where she formerly stood but she had already retreated into the shadows. None of the guards saw her as she slipped onto the roof.

On her belly, magic unfurled in her hands and and she focused the dark arrow on his heart. A mate complicated everything, he needed to go but her wolf fought back, roaring her disagreement and her fingers shook. She gaped, shocked because her fingers have not shaken in front of a target in the last eleven years!

“Don’t you dare.” Her wolf Venna hissed. “He is our mate!”

Freya ignored her and steadied her hand again.

“No!!!” Venna screamed as Freya let the arrow loose.

The dark missile slammed into its target on the dais and everyone gasped with shock. Brilliant red bloomed on the bride’s exquisite white dress just over her heart. Blood drained from her shellshocked face right before she collapsed.

Shocked, Freya drew back, her mind racing. She had never missed a single target in the last eight years since she became Aremin’s assassin. This was her first.

On the dais, Riordan caught his bride’s body in his arms and while the hall erupted into chaos and everyone looked for her, his eyes came unerringly to the roof and met hers.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” She gasped, scrambling up. How did he find her? Her goddamn scent! The stupid wolf!

She ran, her long legs eating up the distance swiftly as she raced from the roof and leaped smoothly onto the next. Her lithe body was nothing but a streak of shadow as she slipped away, her heart pounding. She didn’t know why she didn’t aim for him, she should have killed him. She was so tempted to turn around and finish her assignment but she was too unstable. She needed a little more time to figure out how to kill her mate.

“I thought you went dormant!” She snarled at Venna. “Twelve years you have not said a word! And you choose now?!”

Venna was silent again. She didn’t deem her worthy to talk to but she has been screaming in her head when she thought her mate would be eliminated.

“Glad to see where your priorities lie you traitor!” Freya snarled.

A hard force suddenly rammed into her and knocked her from the roof. She fell to the ground and flipped, landing like a cat. Riordan leaped and landed in front of her and Freya flinched.

“Mate!” Venna exclaimed enthusiastically in her head.

“Shut up!” She snarled.

“You.” He growled.

His voice! The rich bass, like smooth drizzling honey grabbed her attention. They circled each other and she watched him move, enraptured by the strength he radiated. His scent drove her crazy, an irresistible mix of man and wolf that compelled her closer.

“Anyone that follows me dies.” She told him.

He had the deepest black eyes she ever saw and those eyes held nothing but fury as he stared at her.

“You killed her! How?” He snarled.

“Did I? Do you see any of the hallowed weapons on me? Or are you saying your guards are not competent enough?” She asked sassily.

“Blood pays blood, you will die by my hands!” He growled and shifted into a large black wolf.

A man of few words then? She lunged away from his massive wolf jaws and he snarled and cane at her again, faster than anything she ever fought. His next lunge was too quick for her to evade. Magic sizzled as she slammed a shield of darkness up. He crashed into it and recoiled, shifting back.

“What are you?” He asked her, advancing and she drew her daggers that the guards never discovered.

“I should have killed you from the start!” She spat.

“You should have killed me when you had the chance.“ He agreed. “Now you will suffer for it, mate.”

He spat the word between them like he tasted something vile before he came at her again. She slipped under his strike smoothly and their dance of death resumed. He was fighting with nothing but his claws and though he was fast, she was faster. She screamed and with a series of quick slashes, opened up a mark on his face and over his heart. He retreated as the wounds sealed themselves, appearing surprised at her skill.

She raised her bloody daggers with a wicked grin.

“Did that sting?” She smirked, ready for round two. He roared and tackled her, surprising her for one crucial second and yanking her to him.

“Let go of me!” She yelled, thrashing in his grip but he was impossibly strong. He pressed closer into his back and her next breath caught as her body reacted. Her back arched into him and his skin on her skin dissolved the thoughts from her head.

“Be still!” He snarled. Was it her imagination or was his voice gruffer than it was before? He yanked up the sleeve of her dress and exposed her tattoo.

“A spider.” He spat, reviled.

Yes, she was. Every assassin in The Den was called a Spider and damn him, she was the best at what she did!

She slammed her head back, breaking his nose and catching him by surprise and when he released her, she brought her dagger up, aiming for his heart. She was going to end it but he caught her wrist and broke it. Pain exploded in her wrist as she staggered back but she snarled as she launched her second dagger. It should have hit his heart but the bastard moved and the dagger slammed into his chest.  With a roar, he tackled her into the ground. He yanked the dagger from his chest and pressed it into into her throat.

“Do it!” She dared him. “Slit my throat then.”

Those dark eyes flashed and the dagger dug deeper into her neck, drawing blood and yet he hesitated.

“Kill me!” She screamed.

Suddenly, his gaze slid down to her lips and she became aware of the strangely intimate position they were in. His eyes were no longer as cold or as furious and she flushed, goosebumps racing down her arms. She felt the prominent bulge against her belly and instead of revulsion, her breaths quickened and her body responded, delicious warmth drizzling between her thighs.

She had once beaten a man unconscious for an identical crime but this time, she was confused by her body’s responsive longing.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asked her gruffly. He sounded perplexed, almost as much as she was. He wanted to take her, it was so obvious. She stared at his lips and Freya was horrified to admit that she wanted him to.

With a growl, she threw him off her.

“I don’t care who or what you are. The next time you lay a finger on me, you will lose all of them!” She snarled.

She turned and ran away as fast as her legs would carry her without looking back.