Assassin Creed Arno Dorian Novels & Stories

~"~ Back in the camp’s heart, Adam and Jasper moved with lethal grace, closing the distance before the spy could vanish into the trees. A swift, silent grapple ensued. The spy struggled briefly, but years of training couldn’t save them from the weight of justice. Adam’s voice was low and icy. “It’s over. Your lies have been exposed.” ~"~ Under the flicker of torchlight, the spy’s hood was drawn back, revealing a shocked and pale face - a figure well-known among the allied wolves. It was Dorian, a strategist from the Black Claw Pack, whose loyalty had long been whispered over hushed fireside talks but never confirmed.

Of course, this made the knights confused. "Go home and tell your king to stop bothering that girl," Dario said and made Arlo knit his eyebrows. He didn't understand the meaning of the man in front of him. "Who are you?" Arlo looked at Dario closely and felt familiar with the man's amber eyes, but before he could realize who it really was, Dario immediately attacked him. Inevitably, Arlo had to fight him, so the fight had to happen. Their fight also attracted everyone's attention. Arlo, who parried Dario's punch, occasionally observed his opponent's face. He felt he had seen the man's face before, but where?

“Alright. Fine. Give me a fortnight. I’ll get what you want. I wouldn’t dare risk my reputation.” Vermon exchanged a look with Eoiz, then nodded once. “You have until then. Don’t try anything stupid.” They turned to leave. The moment Vernon's back was exposed— Darian grabbed the knife beside him and hurled it. The blade sank into Vermon's neck. “Argh!” Vermon's scream tore through the hall as he collapsed, blood pouring across the stone floor. Eoiz froze, shock paralyzing him — before Darian’s calm voice rang out:

I growled again. I bent down and cradled her in my arms. I could feel her heart racing, the flush that rose to her cheeks when she changed didn’t leave. I walked to where I knew the armory was. She pressed the code that opened the outer door. We made it to the door that led to the armory and did the retinal scan. “Welcome, Harlow Dunaway.” The security system called out. “What do you need?” “Just some stuff.” She looked around. “Set me down.”

My breath hitched as he stepped out. I widened my eyes abruptly as I recognized him. Fuck…This man—my buyer—was Dorian!!! My brother Gray’s most trusted soldier, Dorian! He had that mask for the Underground Club’s customers in one hand. His dark hair was slicked back, and his piercing eyes bore into me with a mix of anger and disappointment. “Dorian?” My voice trembled. “What the hell…What are you doing here?! Did you buy me off?!” Dorian's expression hardened, “Yes.”

But now, Asher was half conscious, cradling Eira with one arm while using the other to keep himself upright. Dorian crouched beside him, gun still in hand. “You're bleeding,” he said flatly. “You’re late,” Asher managed, his mouth quirking despite the blood on his lips. Dorian gave a bitter breath that might’ve been a laugh. “You're welcome.” Then, without a word, Dorian lifted his gaze, and it found her. Vera.

Rory interrupted. “Who exactly are you to interrupt a conversation between alphas?” Norman demanded, his nostril flaring in anger. “Rory Stevens, former medic to the assassin’s guild of Cerathe.” She smiled brightly, dropping a file folder on the table. “The assassin’s guild.” Norman snorted. “That’s a myth. Something we tell our children about to keep them in line.”

Damon accepted the other earpiece and nodded to her to play it. “There’s another language,” he finally stated after playing the audio for the fourth time. “If it’s Saood, then who did he allied his forces with?” She asked intently, stuffing the recorder back in her pocket. “Do you have any intel from overseas on his whereabouts? This might be complicated, Damon. Saood doesn’t resort to threats like this. He just doesn’t blow things up for show. Suicide bombers are not his usual style. How sure are we that he is involved?”

I said to him. I'm still chewing on the orange he gave me, noticing his expression when I tell him this information. “Seriously? Does anyone already know?” “Nope. I also just found out this morning when they took my blood” I showed my hands to him, there are a lot of needle marks in there. Arthur smiles, almost laugh.

She grits out. Phoenix’s hardened expression metamorphizes into one of irritation as he continues to hold her in his steely arms. Phoenix is at least a foot taller than the woman and over a hundred pounds heavier, but she’s putting up quite a fuss. I can tell by the way his arms are straining that she’s strong. Her long blond hair flails around with her irate movements, and her blue eyes spark with annoyance. It’s almost comedic to see Phoenix with his chocolate-covered skin and toned muscles struggling with the termagant. He looks almost unsure of what to do. Phoenix is Logan’s assassin. His real name is Oliver. He and I have worked on several assignments together over the years and have ha