Assassin's Pride Manga Novels & Stories

“...the rest of us earned our places as fighters in this war. We’ve earned each other’s respect by having each other’s back. However, I will apologize because I respect you. But you better keep in mind that if he ever steps up to me like that, I’ll cut his fucking throat.” I swallow hard, waiting for the fight to ensue. However, to Hunter and Connor’s dismay, no one refutes Phantom’s words. And by the flush in Hunter’s cheeks, I can see that he understands that. I don’t pretend to know Priest’s world, but I’m assuming that there’s a code between Assassins. And since Hunter and Connor have never killed anyone, they’re probably the odd man out; and they know it. “Fine.” Priest replies evenly.

Hunter thinks that Priest sold his soul to the devil or something. Priest rises from his chair and raises a questioning brow. He’s an intimidating fucker. Which is saying a lot to someone my size. Priest’s about six foot two with wavy brown hair and silver eyes. He’s muscular but not weight-lifting muscular. Sleeker, like a jaguar. The other Assassins and I like to give him a hard time because he’s the ultimate pretty boy. Women literally swoon when the guy walks into a room. It’s almost embarrassing. I remember we went drinking once, and some girl walked up to him and asked him to marry her. No joke. She was a hundred percent serious. Hunter, Micah, and I were speechless. She made some spe

“Then you'll do the same.” “What? Oh my — ” I sucked in a deep breath as his fangs slid into my skin. A small, hurtful prick at first then gut-shattering bliss. I sighed as I closed my eyes, the heady feeling spreading through my body like a slow sedative. He stepped back, wiping off the blood that'd escaped from the corners of his lips. “Are you alright?” I nodded. “Yeah. Felt more like a thorn prick than a flesh wound.” He chuckled. “Alright, then. It's your turn,” he retrieved a pocket knife from his ankle and slashed his left wrist, bringing my head down to the cut. The first taste of blood was like sweetened milk — light, sugary and all-consuming.

Chase gripped it with great force. The assassin howled in pain and began struggling like a snake in pain. "How is this possible?" There was a look of shock on the assassin's face as his eyes widened. Chase's palm was like steel. It was extremely strong and destroyed all hopes of escape. The assassin's spiritual weapon was stopped purely by Chase's strong physique. "You… Damn it!" The assassin roared shrilly. "I'll take you down with me!" There was a hoarse roar. True energy filled the assassin, and he suddenly exploded like a volcano. Everything happened so fast. The ground within a several-mile radius cracked, and there was dust everywhere.

I tapped his shoulder. He hesitated. “I just want to go play with something.” I said. He set me down and I limped over to the wall of knives and picked up a multicolored butterfly knife. I flipped it around, opening and closing it between my hands. “I need a new one of these. My old one is loose.” I flipped it closed and looked at Malachi, he was just staring at me in amazement. “What?” “I just forgot that you are a trained assassin. That’s all.”

The impact sparked against his claws, metal shrieking, fracturing. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t even blink. Silence. His other hand was already moving before the broken blade hit the floor, ripping forward, plunging into the throat of the assassin who’d thrown it. A spray of red hit the wall like paint. The body dropped, twitching, convulsing, then went still. Ashar turned his head slowly, scanning the next wave of attackers. Not rushed. Not panicked. Calm in a way that Mae couldn't take her eyes off him. Predatory. Focused. Controlled violence incarnate. Mae gaze lingered. She could not look away.

Ash says, brushing his fingers across the small of her back, “Twenty languages, Head of the Guild of Assassins, smart as all hell and fucking gorgeous to boot. There’s not much you can’t do is there?” She smirks and shrugs, Kai hums coming closer to her again,

“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

His scream choked off in his throat before he fell face-first into the sand, twitching once, then still. Silence… Only one remained. … The Assassin leader cracked his neck slowly, the sound echoing like breaking timber. He flexed his wrists, hopped lightly on his toes. His boots dragged across the sand as his eyes burned with hatred. The crowd stirred. Anana’s white gaze locked on him. The duel began. The leader struck first. He was fast… faster than the assassins before him. His blades gleamed as they darted and sliced. He struck from the left, from the right, overhead, underhand. His body moved with a predator’s grace, venom dripping from his steel claws.

Every strike, every dodge, every snap of fangs was a declaration: Blackwood would not fall, not today, not to assassins, not to traitors. Finally, with a coordinated lunge, Kade and Lena struck simultaneously, claws and fangs tearing into the master assassin. The cloak fell back, revealing a scarred face, eyes blazing with hatred and disbelief. The assassin’s body crumpled to the stone floor, defeated but alive—barely.