Crimson Covenant (Onyx Assassins 1)

Lyric reared back as though she'd been struck.

"That's enough." The only reason I didn't crush Cassandra right then and there was the headache involved with dealing with her father. Aristocrats were a pain in my ass.

Lyric recovered quickly, tilting her chin upward. "That may be, but this little mark doesn't just mean that I'm his. It means he's mine, too.” She blew by Cassandra, dismissing her in a way that left me grinning as she headed for the residence.

Lyric’s temper only proved that she was indeed my mate.

Now I had to figure out how to keep her alive.

“Tell me you’ve found something,” I said to Julian the next day, not bothering with pleasantries as I walked into the archives located deep beneath the estate, Lachlan at my side.

The room was roughly the same dimensions as the ballroom above and lined with both shelves of books and pressurized, humidity-controlled rooms we’d had installed in the last few decades to preserve the oldest texts.

“My king.” Julian looked up from the table where he sat surrounded by yellowed manuscripts and ancient scrolls. The vampire had two hundred years on me, not that anyone could tell. He was dressed like he’d just walked off a college campus, in a zip-up hoodie and athletic pants. “It’s more that I haven’t found something,” he said slowly.

“Go on.” I looked over the open legal text written in our ancient language, and Lachlan sank into the chair across the table.

“I feared that the translation of our laws may have missed a word or two.” He spun in his chair, and retrieved a book from the desk behind him, then flipped it open and set it before me. “See here, it says that the King will wed a bride of his choosing who bears his crest from an acceptable line.”

“Right.” I folded my arms across my chest. That was why Cassandra had been all too happy to tramp stamp my crest across her lower back.

“If I may be so bold—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Julian. You’re our elder. Be bold,” Lachlan muttered.

I shot my second a look, but he simply shrugged.

“What? You’ve been an ornery, twitchy arse the last month, and it’s only getting worse. If Julian doesn’t find a solution, it will be your own Assassins that kill you off, and I’ll be first in line.” He leaned back in his seat.

Julian’s eyes narrowed in my direction. “Has it gotten worse since the mark appeared on the human’s wrist?”

“Lyric, Julian. Her name is Lyric.” Now that I thought about it, the last week had been nearly torturous. “And yes. It’s worse. There’s a pounding, clawing need to be at her side, and there’s not a lot of downtime when it comes to the overseeing of our species and tracking down my sister’s attackers. Even when I do manage to see Lyric…” Dinner was especially difficult. “There’s a craving that demands all my effort to deny.”

That was putting it lightly. Every time I was in the same room with Lyric, it was all I could do to keep from throwing her on the table so I could get inside her with both my fangs and my cock. Even now, I could sense where she was on the estate—the library in the residence—and had part of my mental reserves concentrating on staying in this room so I didn’t follow through on my desires.

“That’s going to get worse until you complete—”

A low growl rumbled through my chest at his implications.

Julian paled slightly. “Until you’re with her.” He rolled his chair another foot away.

“See? He’s impossible to live with right now,” Lachlan noted with a roll of his eyes.

“The good news is, once you’ve solidified that bond, the cravings will be more intense for a period of time—”

“That’s not good news.” Lachlan sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

“— but then they’ll be manageable. Mated pairs always need the physical contact of the other, it’s built into our genes, but even something as simple as…” Julian swallowed. “Sleeping next to your mate at night should help keep the worst of it away.”

The need between mated pairs was ingenious in a way. It made sure that the two couldn’t go long periods without sex or contact, which was essential to the survival of our race.

“Fuck that.” Lachlan scoffed. “Sorry, Alek. You can keep your leash. I’ll be happily single for the rest of my existence.”

Julian looked across the table at the burly Scotsman. “I’m sure you know that every female you touch could become that…leash.”

Lachlan’s brows furrowed. “Aye, but it’s rare. How many mated pairs have you known in all your years, Julian?”

Several seconds went by before he answered. “Sixteen. Thirteen of which were either of the royal house or in the Order. Stronger blood, stronger males, stronger bonds. There’s a balance to it all.”