Novel & Cerita Altaïr Assassin Creed

“He’s the kingpin of global flesh trade. Those pups? Inventory. And he was my original mark when I first came here.” Three sets of eyes blinked at me. I arched a brow at my mates. You never briefed them? Their shrugs said priorities. “Seems our fearless leaders omitted a detail,” I drawled. “I’m not just your Luna. I’m a trained assassin. Interrogation specialist.” Sighing, I turned back. “Seems our Alphas left out a detail. I’m an assassin. A master torturer.” Silence. Then— Marcus barked a laugh. “Fuck me, that’s good. Almost sold it too. Seriously though—” He froze at our stone-faced expressions. “…No way. You’re actually—holy shit! No wonder you’re a badass.” His grin could’ve powered a

“Guess you can see that for yourself.” I remained silent, my expression unreadable. I started toward the door, but Casey shifted, blocking my path. “You know,” he said, voice casual, “I’m actually glad he’s gone.” That made me pause. My eyes narrowed slightly, a silent demand for him to continue. Casey’s lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I knew what you were from the beginning. Assassin. A famous one, at that.” He tilted his head, watching me carefully. “I always wanted to warn Gerald, tell him exactly what kind of woman he was dealing with. But I didn’t, because I was afraid.”

He wasn't going to kill her… at least not yet, not until he's gotten reasonable answers from her. “I-I don't know, but it was instinct.” She stammered before gaining her voice back. “Instinct? What kind of maid instinctively knows how to handle a glock?” he asked suspiciously. His eyes raked her body from top to bottom. Alina was undeniably beautiful. Even with her hair cut into a bobbed hairstyle, it matched her sharp features more. Her lips, cheeks and nose had this permanent flush that made her look innocent — completely hiding the fact that she's a bred assassin.

"I've heard so much of you from Hector and Riftan. I'd like to introduce myself before I get to the point. My name is Alzack, and I am the Alpha of the Cynical Pack. I am a close acquaintance of Riftan." "Not really," Riftan whispered under his breath. "Well, I do have a request that only you, the most skilled assassin on this continent can do." The amount of euphemism I could hear from his voice was over the top. but I guess I have to hear what he wants to say. Especially now that Riftan has gotten really quiet. "A request?" I faked a laugh. "I mean you know what I do... right? I stabbed and shoot Weres for a living-"

Chapter: 55 ******* TALON: As I stood there, speechless, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small blade. My heart raced, a mix of fear and anticipation coursing through my veins. Without hesitation, he pressed the blade to his arm, cutting into his flesh with an unsettling calm. The scent of his blood filled the air—intoxicating and rich, a siren's call that ignited a primal hunger deep within me. “Altair,” I muttered, the name slipping from my lips like a prayer, recognition flooding over me like a tidal wave. As I looked into his eyes again, everything around us faded; it was just him and me, connected by an invisible thread that pulled me closer.

Giving Bast a dark look. “The mighty Alazareth Bodane, Nauvree of the bloodlust, afraid of another assassin…” “He’s not just an assassin.” Alazar explained. “The man is absolutely ruthless, ice cold blood flows in his veins, and far more terrifying than that is how easy it is to underestimated what is going on in his head. If you were to define dangerous, it would be the king of the Blue Lark.” “I am not afraid.” Bast dismissed. “You’re not the one off to slap his goodwill in the face with goods and snide remarks.”

"Therefore, with the power held within me, I, Aleric Dumont, Alpha of the Winter Mist Pack, sentence you, Ariadne Chrysalis, former Luna of the Winter Mist Pack, to death." I looked up to meet his eyes and, to my surprise, it wasn't Aleric I was looking at. It was Cai. He carried the broadsword in his hand as if it was entirely natural for him, as if he'd held it many times before. I looked into his golden eyes and saw the same cold look I was so familiar with from Aleric. A look of hatred. "Cai... what are you doing?" I managed to say, finally finding my voice.

Y O U . M O N E Y . I S . A . M Y T H . W E . A R E . T H E . R E A L I T Y . Altair felt a cold rage settle in his gut. It was a different sensation than his father’s hot anger. It was distinct, calculating, and freezing. "Nova," Altair said quietly. "Get the hunting team." The screen flashed one final message. W E . A R E . C O M I N G . F O R . T H E . C R O W N .

“Ah, dear niece, so this is what an average day in the life looks like… waltzing with your kill and staring right into their eyes right before you snuff the light out of it… brilliant!” It was obvious he wanted a reaction out of her, and on a very good day, he would have gotten nothing, but today wasn’t exactly going as planned for the plus-sized assassin. Barbara moved with a speed that would have stunned the girl she used to be. In one fluid motion, she was behind him. She didn't bother shedding the server's jacket; she simply reached beneath it. The cold steel of a ceramic knife was pressed firmly against the pulse point of his neck before he could say another word.

Hands which luminesced in a defensive green glow. Alazar slid between them, facing the attacker. Shielding her behind him. The stranger plunged the dagger deep. Sinking it into Alazar’s chest just below his collar. Alazareth grunted in pain. Snapping the man’s wrist before his hand shot to clutch the man’s neck. Alazar lurched forward with animal strength. Forcing the assassin, screaming and cradling his flopping wrist, back. Alazar struck him in the chest, and he stumbled back and hit a trunk, slumping against it.