Novel & Cerita Assassin's Cerulean Dagger

He looked like a god of war. ​The office door splintered inward with a crash. ​The assassin moved faster than any normal wolf. The killer wore a skin tight black leather suit, a dark hood completely covering his face except for his dead black eyes, and a vibrant green serpent tattoo curled dangerously around his pale neck. He held twin curved daggers in his hands. Thick, glowing green liquid dripped steadily from both sharp blades. ​The assassin lunged forward without making a single sound, and aimed both poisoned blades directly at Zachery's bare chest.

The moment Cassian's gaze fell on the deliveryman's hand, he noticed the dagger right away. "Watch out!" he shouted while pulling Serena's wheelchair away from the dagger. Thanks to him, Serena was able to avoid the lethal attack. But the assassin moved two steps forward instantly after missing the attack. He attempted to stab Serena in the throat next. He'd never let Serena go unless he successfully assassinated her. Cassian reacted to the attack immediately at that critical moment. He quickly extended his right arm to block the dagger for Serena. As a result, the dagger was plunged deep into Cassian's arm. Blood instantly streaked down Cassian's arm.

LIAM'S POV "Do you know where this is from? Kaden asks as I'm immediately cripples with guilt on seeing the dagger. Seeing him pull it out I had recognized on sight but then I had my doubts about the whole thing and felt it should not be that way. She was dead, I made sure of it but why… Why now? Could it be that it is mainly mistaken? I asked myself but got no response… My wolf, scared just like I am as I pulled The dagger away from Kaden's clutch. I will examine it more closely… "Holy shit" I exclaim on seeing it clearly and closely…. It's not possible I try to console myself but then there's no way I could be mistaken… It's just as I had seen it. This dagger belongs to Kea, my previous as

Taking a gamble, I release my grip on one of my daggers. The dagger fell to the floor with a clink and as Nash's line of focus fell to the dagger while it fell, I reached to my back and pulled out a switchblade from the belt to deliver the final blow. The switchblade was already aiming for Nash's throat when I saw it from the corner of my eye. The movement was too fast and my body, unable to react in time, convulsed when a kneecap slammed straight into my unguarded solar plexus. The impact had sent me crashing into the wall behind as if I was a mere sheet of paper. I was by no means light but Nash was that powerful.

Vane leads me to a small chest in the back. He opens it. Inside is a pair of twin daggers. The handles are carved from white bone. The blades are thin. slightly curved. "These belonged to an assassin from the southern wastes." Vane says. "They are balanced for a smaller hand. Try them." I pick them up. They feel like an extension of my arms. I give them a quick spin. They cut the air with a hiss. "I like them." I say. "Good." Vane says. "Because the scouts just returned. The Shadow Claw aren't at the river anymore."

My grip on my dagger is so tight my palm begins to bleed, the copper scent of it mixing with the cold mist. Daryl shifts his weight, his daggers humming, the light reflecting off the steel and into his eyes. His gaze flickers to the space between two of the assassins, a tiny, almost invisible gap in their formation. It’s a gamble, a suicidal, impossible opening, but it’s the only one we have. The world seems to slow down, the mist freezing in mid-air, the seconds stretching until they are translucent.

The girl who had shaken the Academia to its bones. He reached the door. Hand ghosting over the handle. He never felt the blade that took his life. A figure appeared behind him. Cloak of shifting moonlight. White porcelain mask. No features. Black hoodie failing to conceal his horns. Dagger. The assassin whose reputation was whispered in the darkest corners of the underworld. SHING. Twin blades carved through the intruder's throat before he could gasp. Surgical. Brutal. Efficient. Dagger kicked the corpse into a pocket dimension. Bored flick of his boot. Not a single drop of blood stained the carpet.

I stamped down the need coursing through me. It was Caelum that answer, “We were hoping you could shed more light on that.” I couldn't help it, my gaze strayed to his, drinking the sight of him in like I was thirsty and he was a tall glass of chilled water, “What do you mean?” He rolled over the body and there at the center of his chest was a familiar knife, one I hadn't seen since I moved in to Caelum's room. The dagger with the intricate design and emerald gem on its handle. The dagger I had stolen from the armoury along with the bottle of cyanide I had used to poison the muffin that was used to kill Leslie.

His eyes were deadly, and his grip was like iron. “You die tonight,” he hissed. I struggled, scratching at his hands, my mind racing for a means of escape. I twisted my body, trying to break the grip, but I was cornered. My lungs were screaming for air, and the darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision. The assassin raised his dagger, the silver blade gleaming in the dark. Is this the end?

He bit his bottom lip, lowering his arms to his sides and glancing towards his palms before asking, "What is it? Y-You...you don't like what you see?" Nate had not spoken yet, gulping when he saw Dante's fingers drop the knife beside him and reach for the next button on his dress shirt. When Nate realized what he was doing, he instinctively leaned downwards, his mind completely pushing away the assassin murderous rumours and all the threats Dante had mentioned, instead reaching for his hands and stopping him from continuing down the placket. "What the fuck are you doing?" Nate pushed his hands away, closing the other buttons as well and hiding the chain back into his shirt.