Crimson Warrior (Onyx Assassins 3)

“How the fuck would you know?” Benedict challenged, a teasing smile on his face. “Haven’t you sworn off females?”

“You don’t have to be mated to be observant when it comes to those who are, asshole,” Hawke fired back as he walked out of the room. “Good luck, Ran. Don’t die.”

Guess he was done with the conversation.

I took a deep breath. “So, growl, don’t tolerate other males around her, feed her, and generally act like she’s the center of my universe, all while regenerating the Hunters and acclimating them to the twenty-first century.” All without losing your head over Olivia’s beautiful face...and body. Easy. Liar.

“When you put it that way…” Benedict whistled.

“Exactly. Good luck,” Alek said with a grin.

This was going to be the longest two weeks of my fucking life.

2

Olivia

“You’ll have to reapply these whenever the ink starts to fade,” Gabriel said, ushering Ransom and myself over to one of his sterile tables. Gabriel was as big and lethal as any of the Order, but he’d decided to go into the medical field. Couldn’t really blame the immortal since his family had been the best-known healers and doctors for our kind for centuries.

“And how often will that be?” I asked, my stomach still in knots. Maybe I should’ve rethought Avi’s offer to head to the human district at first night to select a volunteer to feed from.

I glanced at Ransom, his face a cool sort of calm. He was devastatingly beautiful. I’d always thought so. From the moment I’d earned my way into auditioning to be Avi’s bodyguard, Ransom standing over the training room like a Greek god observing every challenge, every test, I’d been drawn to him. And once he got in the sparring ring with me? Once I’d made it to that final challenge where I had to test my merit against a goddamn Onyx Assassin? All bets were off.

His touch had been like a lightning strike, and my pride at meeting his challenge and laying one tiny finger on him after hours of sparring was just as hot. The look of respect and admiration that had turned those sapphire eyes into flickering gems of molten blue had nearly destroyed me with need, with want. But my selection as Avi’s bodyguard was the highest honor, and I quickly buried all lustful feelings toward Ransom in the darkest parts of my soul.

I’d always had a knack for masking my scent—a talent of necessity when my parents constantly lorded over and disapproved of my choices, my desire to learn to fight, to protect, to serve. I couldn’t have them sniffing out my disgust with their ancient, patriarchal ways, not when the truth would only hurt them—and I did love them dearly. I’d do anything to spare them from pain, even leaving home under the guise of being a lady-in-waiting for the princess…which is what brought us here.

“Jocelyn helped me spell the ink,” Gabriel said, shifting the thick white squares on the table. “But your body’s natural instincts will be to rid your skin on the ink.”

“Right,” I said, hopping onto the table where Gabriel gestured. I swished my legs back and forth, my body a well of nervous energy. Ransom flashed me a cocked brow as he eyed the motion. I instantly stilled my body. “That’s why one of the witches’ most lucrative income streams are magical tattoos for supernaturals,” I basically said to myself. God, I hated the anxiety fluttering up from my stomach, the way it clouded my mind.

“Precisely,” Gabriel said, his eyes softening as he looked me over. Ransom folded his arms over his broad chest, studying me.

I couldn’t fault either of them for their concern. I wasn’t often flustered—not unless I was using the coy, shy, bumbling demeanor as a decoy. Here at the palace? I was the cunning, sharp-as-daggers bodyguard to the princess. I’d faced down packs of rogue wolves and slaughtered demons who’d tried to get too close to Avi, all without breaking a sweat. I lived for that sort of duty—hard-earned, well-fought, and cleverly planned. But this? This one lie I’d told my family about having a mate at the palace? About being nothing more than a quiet, calm lady-in-waiting?

It had all the power to ruin everything I’d worked for over the last handful of decades.

I swallowed hard, my eyes drawn to Ransom again. His eyes were so blue, the stunning shade of the ocean under the moonlight. I never allowed myself to stare into them for too long, even if our friendship had grown unbreakable over the centuries. I always feared if he looked too closely, he’d see the other lie I kept hidden.

That I loved him.

I’d loved him for longer than I cared to remember, perhaps even after that day in the sparring ring where he’d selected me worthy of protecting the princess. Maybe it was after, when we’d teased and laughed and shared battles together. Those moments in between the life-or-death fights that he’d break the tension with a joke and send me spiraling away from the darkness and shooting straight for the light. War was never easy, and killing wasn’t something you ever got used to. Ransom’s friendship? His jokes and respect and encouragement? Those moments with him had helped keep me sharp and polished throughout the battles when I could’ve easily succumbed to nothing but jagged, brutal, and deadly. We’d all seen it more times than we cared to admit—a vampire who’d lived so long and had to kill so much that they lost themselves, either to inhumanity or insanity from bloodlust.