Assassin's Cerulean Dagger Novels & Stories

Blair noticed. And smiled. “You’re holding back,” Blair breathed, ducking another hit. “You’re afraid you’ll hurt them. That’s what makes you weak.” She slipped a hand under her cloak, drawing something gleaming. A dagger. The blade shimmered faintly in the light, a silver curve ending in a moonstone pommel. The air around it hummed with cold intent. Celeste’s blood ran cold. “Where did you...” Blair lunged. Celeste barely dodged the first strike, the dagger grazing her shoulder. She hit back, grabbing Blair’s wrist, forcing her backward toward the stairs. They struggled, boots slipping on shattered glass. The dagger flashed again, high, low, then high again.

They were hurt pretty badly because of Eros' torture but are now recovering. "Their names are Raven and Howel. Make sure to interrogate them separately and don't let them alone in one room," he explained to his right-hand man. If they are left alone, they might make up a story to fool them. Raven, the assassin who revealed his name and bowed down to Eros' wishes when they were in the arena because his brother, Howel, was stabbed and bleeding to death. He cared too much for his brother, making it his weakness.

“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.

When it cleared, the assassin was gone, burned to nothing but ash. Ivy coughed, clutching my arm. “Are you okay?” “I’m fine,” I lied, though my skin still smoked where the silver had touched. Gemma cursed under her breath. “That wasn’t just a random attack.” “No,” I said, voice low. “That was a message.” Rowan picked up what remained of the assassin’s dagger, a curved blade etched with a symbol we all recognized. Jace’s sigil. Ivy’s hand trembled as she looked at it.

I unwrapped it, and my breath hitched. It was a ritual dagger, its blade curved like a crescent moon and forged from darkened silver. But it wasn't the blade that made my heart stop; it was the hilt. Encased in clear resin at the base of the handle was the Silver-Moon family crest. Caleb’s crest. "What are you doing in here?" I spun around, the dagger still in my hand. Sarah, my former handmaid, stood in the doorway, her face pale. "Sarah, look at this," I whispered, holding up the weapon. "This belongs to Caleb’s bloodline. Why does an assassin from the Obsidian Crest have it hidden in her trunk?"

The dagger slipped from her grasp as his body hit the gravel with a thud that echoed far too loudly in the midnight garden. Her chest heaved, her hands trembling. But her gaze held steady. Cassian’s sword lowered slowly. His eyes found hers, searching, measuring. For a heartbeat, the only sound was their ragged breathing, and the distant rustle of leaves. Then he crouched beside the dying assassin, prying the weapon from limp fingers. His expression hardened. The blade bore the serpent’s insignia twined fangs etched deep into the steel. But at the pommel glinted another mark: Damien’s crest.

She leaned on the counter’s wall slightly for some support. CLANG! The bloody dagger fell on the floor heavily as Ethan shook off the combat shoes in the air. “You really... Are one of a kind, babe. You had yourself ready for that freaking fight!” he mumbled sarcastically as he caught hold of the dagger in his hand. He gaze at it intently and noticed the logo imprinted on its blade. ‘ASSASSIN’S CRADE’ Ethan’s eyes immediately darkened as he took the knife's logo into his mind. He had heard a lot about this logo before. He couldn't believe it that his woman...

she pointed at him with his dagger. Ashvell sighed. Cassana reached out for his hand under the table, having no success in finding help from the box underneath, she turned her gaze towards the dagger on his belt. It was his father's and she remembered him giving it to her friend. And as far as she knew, her father attached a stone inside its handle. That was it, that was her last ace.

“You said your mother’s dagger was confiscated when you were arrested, so I just thought you might like to have a new one. But if you don’t want it, I can find the old one, I’m sure they wouldn’t destroy something like that, in fact, Cassandra herself probably has it. I can-” I press my fingers against his lips, “This is amazing,” I pick up the dagger; the sleek, curved blade glints dangerously in the firelight, the handle is black gold encrusted with red rubies, and where the blade meets the hilt there is a small sphere containing… “Is that blood?”