Crimson Saint (Onyx Assassins #10)

Saint

“Tell me you’ve got something,” I ask the second I step into the war room.

Ransom is behind the keys, checking several monitors and typing at rapid speeds. “Nothing yet,” he says, but he sounds hopeful, because of course he does. His mate and child are safe, and he doesn’t have a mad twin with an agenda dead set on killing everything that matters to him.

I suck in a sharp breath. Fuck, this is not his fault. It’s mine. It’s always been mine.

The reason we went into stasis all those years ago.

The second I’d sensed my brother walking that line of bloodmadness, I’d tried to save him from himself.

I watched him feed, barely stopping him from murdering every single human he fed from.

And when it wasn’t enough, I convinced my hunter brothers to go into stasis, claiming it was me who couldn’t control my hunger.

I’d promised our mother on her deathbed that I’d protect her favorite son.

Samuel had always been the golden child in our family, but the power of that position turned him into a monster.

I thought going into stasis would soothe his madness and return him to the brother I once knew. The one who wasn’t malicious, calculative, and power hungry. The one who didn’t care about the throne or his proximity to it. The one who always watched over me like I’d watched over him.

Those memories seem like I’m remembering someone else entirely. The brother I knew died a long time ago. And now I need to officially kill the one he’s turned into. The one who got to Aurora. The one who almost killed her. Again.

I rake my fingers through my hair, hating the itch in the back of my mind I can’t scratch.

“Saint,” Alek says my name like he’s approaching a wild animal as he bounds into the room. I get it. I’m used to it. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not the most stable of creatures. I never have been, but I’ve never strayed as far as my twin. You’d think that would count for something.

“I’m sorry,” I manage to force the words out. Anger burns my skin. Samuel had been right here. The scene keeps repeating—his hand around Aurora’s throat, her eyes wide and terrified. Fuck, I need to carve into something. Preferably my twin brother’s heart.

“For what?” Alek asks.

“I didn’t go after him.” I couldn’t go after him. I saw Aurora drop and that was it.

“Saint,” Alek chides me. “You saved Aurora. You never need to apologize for making those kinds of choices.”

I study the king. He means it. He’s a good ruler.

I’ve met enough to know that most would’ve rather I captured the threat that’s evaded us for months.

One that broke onto our grounds by convincing the Greenbriars to sacrifice half of their coven to tear down the wards.

Samuel thought the casualties would be higher.

He thought he’d claim the throne. He hadn’t counted on so many mates of the assassins and hunters joining the fight.

Hadn’t counted on their strength in duos.

A mistake I know he won’t make again.

“We’ll find him,” Alek assures me. “I know we’re getting close. He’s losing key players at every attack. It’s only a matter of time before he has no one left on his side.”

“Samuel has always had a way of recruiting people to his way of thinking. He’s never alone for long.” There are still a handful of aristocrats wearing the Deveraux seal on their suit jackets and gowns. A fact I know is eating away at our king, even if he won’t admit it.

“We’ll catch him,” Alek says, almost like he needs to convince himself.

I’ll kill him, I silently correct him. There’s no catching him. No imprisoning him. He has to die.

After a quick debriefing with all the hunters and assassins, the war room breaks, and I head up the stairs toward Aurora’s chambers. It’s a nightly habit of mine, to see if she needs me to help her eat or sleep or anything else I can do to make up for what my brother did to her—

Her scream rips through the space above me, and I’m speeding into her room before I can draw my next breath. I skid to a halt at the sight of Annika, Dagon’s mate and Olivia’s niece, standing just outside Aurora’s bathing chamber.

“What’s wrong?” I snap. “Is she hurt?”

“I just got here,” Annika says, eyes wide with worry.

“Aurora,” I plead. “Open the door.”

A million scenarios rush through my mind.

It could be residual effects of her trauma, past and present, tearing her mind apart like it did when she first came to the residence, or it could be some aftereffects of an infliction Samuel left upon her after touching her.

And after tonight, I can’t be sure someone wasn’t left behind to attack when we’re least expecting it—

The door swings open. Aurora wears panic all over her face, her hand splayed atop the side of her neck.

“Are you hurt?” I reach for her, tugging at her hand.

“I don’t know,” she says, letting her hand fall.

The force of a bullet hits my chest. I stumble back a few steps, barely hearing Annika’s gasp as she sees Aurora’s neck.

Ink spreads and swirls in the exact shape of a mating mark, identical to the mark that decorates my neck too.

“Is this your mark or his?” Aurora asks, tears lining her eyes.

I keep backing away, unable to grab onto one coherent thought racing through my mind.

“Saint.” She follows me. “Please,” she begs. “Please, tell me this is your mark.”

I open and close my mouth a few times. If fate had linked us together, I’d feel it, right? I’ve lived around enough mated couples to know there are signs. Did I miss them? I search inward, only finding the ice I’ve encased my heart in since before we went into stasis.

“Saint,” Aurora snaps.

“For fuck’s sake, say something.” Annika wraps her arms around a now trembling Aurora.

I lock my gaze, my very being, onto Aurora, desperate for an answer. She’s begging me to tell her it’s my mark, but Samuel and I are identical twins in every way, right down to the brand on our necks.

“I…” I reach her opened door, shaking my head. “I don’t know.”

Aurora folds into Annika’s arms, a sob wrenching from her lips that rips me to shreds. I turn my back on her, her panicked cries following me as I try to outrun this new fate.

Either Aurora is my brother’s mate…

Or she’s mine.

And neither of those outcomes is good enough for her.