Merciless Saints (St. Monarch's Academy 1)

The Blanco family had my mother killed and tried but failed to kill me. All to send my father a message. They want Africa.

It’s going to be near impossible to watch Vince Blanco laugh… breathe… and not try to kill him.

And Damien?

The blood flowing through my veins warms just at the mere thought of him.

I head up the stairs to get to my quarters, my eyes continually scanning over my surroundings. As I climb the last couple of stairs, I come to a sudden halt. Standing in the middle of the hallway are Damien Vetrov and Carson Koslov. They’re giving each other a brotherly hug.

The spit dries in my mouth at the sight.

Holy mother of saints.

Fear soaks into my bones. If they’re paired and team up with their brothers, my family and I are as good as dead once someone hires them to assassinate us.

Carson has the same blond hair as his brother, and when his dark eyes flick to me, it sends a chill rushing over my body. Vigilant and deadly.

Slowly he tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Winter Hemsley.” His low voice makes my name sound like a warning.

‘Show no fear,’ I hear Cillian’s voice in my mind.

Lifting my chin, I lock eyes with him. “Carson Koslov.”

The corner of his mouth twitches again. “Not what I expected a princess to look like.”

Wanting to make a statement, I lift my hand and brush my hair back over my shoulder, so the scar on my neck is clearly visible.

“I’m no ordinary princess,” I murmur.

I begin to walk again, my gaze moving from Carson to Damien as I pass right through the middle of them. For a moment, pressure builds, and I’m inundated by the testosterone coming off them in waves.

Show no Fear. Not ever.

I keep my chin high, and when I reach my quarters, I take hold of the doorknob and glance back at the men. They’re both watching me, probably sizing me up.

Pushing the door open, I step inside. I lock it behind me and then let out a breath of relief.

Instead of crumbling in fear, it only makes me more determined to become the best. I have two years to train in combat and armory.

Walking to my bedroom, I pick up my bag, and pulling my phone out, I dial my father’s number. I already called him to tell him I arrived safely, but now I need to warn them.

“Twice in one day. Do you miss us already?” Father’s warm voice comes over the line.

“Carson Koslov and Damien Vetrov,” I get right to the point. “It seems they’re already pairing up.”

“Fuck,” Father hisses. “You saw this with your own eyes?”

“Yes.” I take a trembling breath. “Go back into hiding. I need to know you and Sean are safe until I’m done with my training.”

“I’ll send more guards for you,” Father says.

“I won’t step off the grounds. Don’t worry about me. I have Cillian. You need to leave as soon as possible. Let me know when you reach the island.”

The island’s not easily accessible. Any plane, helicopter, or boat can be taken out before they reach land. Right now, it’s the safest place for them.

“We’ll leave within the hour. I’ll send out a tracker to watch Alexei Koslov and Demitri Vetrov. As soon as they move in our direction, I’ll alert you. It will be better for you to join us then.”

“They won’t try anything at St. Monarch’s. No one dares the risk of being banned,” I remind Father. Being banned comes with a steep price on your head. An open contract that will have every assassin in the world coming after you. “The Koslov and Vetrov families have honor. They’ll wait until I leave the academy. I’ll see the rest of the attendees at dinner tonight. I’ll notify you if there are other families we should be keeping an eye on.”

“Do that.” Father clears his throat.

“Let me know as soon as you reach the island,” I remind him.

“I will. Stay safe, my princess.”

“You too, Father.”

We end the call, and I quickly dial Cillian’s number.

“Poppet?” he answers, his voice tight with worry.

“I’m fine. I’m just calling to let you know Damien Vetrov and Carson Koslov are here.”

“Fuck,” he spits the word over the line.

“Be careful,” I warn him.

“I will.”

“I have to get ready for dinner.”

Cillian lets out a heavy breath. “Remember, keep your head high and show no fear. I’m right outside St. Monarch’s.”

I nod. “Vince Blanco is also here. I didn’t tell father.”

Another curse escapes Cillian. “Christ, poppet.”

“I’ll be okay,” I try to ease his worry. I lick my lips before I continue, “But the moment we leave St. Monarch’s, I want him dead.”

“Consider it a graduation present,” Cillian promises.

“Stay safe,” I murmur before I cut the call, and knowing I only have an hour and a half left to prepare for dinner, I run myself a bath.