Aurora
“Run that by me one more time?” Dagon asks, arms folded where he leans against the wall of the dining room.
I waited at least ten minutes after Saint left the residence to visit a feeder before seeking out Dagon, desperate for another hunter to hear my thoughts on ensnaring Samuel.
I’d talked about it enough with Saint to know he wouldn’t budge for me on the idea, but maybe if his brothers came on board, we’d have a shot.
“You already know Samuel made it clear to Saint in Italy that he thinks this mating mark is his. That I somehow belong to him.” I recoil at the idea. “We could use that to our advantage. Draw him out. Capture him. Put an end to his control of the Sons of Honor.”
The wheels turn behind Dagon’s eyes, and hope builds inside me.
“And you’ve already run this by Saint, I’m assuming?” he asks.
“Yes.”
“And he doesn’t want to risk you.” It’s not a question.
“No, but you can understand his judgment is a little clouded with our new bond,” I counter.
“Understandably.”
“Yes, understandably,” I agree. “But let’s pretend it was Talon or Ajax or Zachariah Samuel needed for the vote. Would they hesitate to use that to their advantage?” When he doesn’t immediately respond. “Would you object to the idea of using them to finally put an end to this war?”
“No,” he finally answers. “It’s not a bad idea. And if it was any one of the hunters or even an assassin, we’d be perfecting the plan before putting it into place.”
“Exactly.”
He tilts his head back and forth before smirking. “Okay, I’m in.”
Surprise ripples along my body. “Seriously?”
“Yep. It’s a solid idea. The best one we’ve had come to us in months.” He jerks his head to the side. “You ready now?”
I glance down at my attire—a simple sun dress and sandals—but shrug. “Absolutely.” No way I’m losing my shot because I’m worried about the casualness of my outfit.
“Good. Follow me.” He chuckles, shaking his head as we weave through the king’s residence until we come to the garage. And by garage, I mean car museum, because whoa there are a ton of vehicles stowed in here.
“Shouldn’t you run it by the others? Get them ready?” I ask as he walks by a row of motorcycles.
“You think I can’t take him down by myself?”
“I think it’s na?ve to underestimate him,” I counter.
“You’d be right about that.” Dagon pauses in front of a blood-red Ferrari and holds the passenger door open for me. “After you.”
Anticipation bubbles in my blood. We’re going to do this. We’re going to get this done and then Saint and I will be free to live the life we’ve been dreaming of. I sink into the passenger seat, a mixture of hope and fear swirling together.
“Going somewhere, mate?”
I jolt in the seat, nearly smacking my head against the window at the sound of Saint’s voice. He’s sitting behind the wheel of the car.
“Sorry. Hunter code.” Dagon flashes me an apologetic look as he bends to see through the open window. “In her defense, Saint,” he says, eying him. “It’s a solid idea.”
Saint bares his fangs at Dagon.
Dagon shrugs and speeds out of sight, leaving only me and Saint left in the garage.
I stare him down. “I won’t apologize.”
“I’m not looking for one.”
“How did you know I’d ask Dagon?” I ask. “Digging through my thoughts?”
“I don’t need to,” he says, opening the door and climbing out of the car. He’s around to my side before I can even reach for the handle. “I know you.” He gently pulls me from the car, shutting the door behind me. “You’re close with Annika. Dagon would be the first choice.”
“If you know me, then you know I won’t give up on this idea.”
He stalks toward me, inching me toward the front of the car until I’m caged between the hood and him. “I know,” he says, hands gliding along my hips. “And you know me,” he continues, bending to drag his lips along my jaw. “You know I won’t stop fighting to keep you safe. Even from yourself.”
Tingles erupt everywhere he touches, but I do my best to hold on to some semblance of control.
I slide my hands beneath the light jacket he wears, my fingers easily finding the hilt of one of his blades in the holster he wears whenever he leaves.
I grip one, drawing it out as fast as I can, and point the tip at his neck.
Adrenaline courses through me, desire pulsing along our mating bond so fiercely it’s hard to think of little else. “I could make you take me,” I say, wielding that knife at his throat.
A grin stretches over his lips, his pupils blown out as he looks down at me. “That’s my vicious little mate,” he growls, hands flexing on my hips. “You’re learning.”
The tension between us is sharper than the blade I hold, and the longer he holds my gaze, the more my resolve crumbles.
I would never hurt him, but I can’t deny how much I like the scents rolling off of him right now—desire, heady and deep.
I learned as much from the chase last week, my mate loves a challenge.
I’m more than happy to deliver that for him.
“I’ll never give up,” I admit, holding the knife steady.
“I’d never want you to.” He moves faster than I can track, disarming me in a blink.
One second the knife is poised at his throat, the next it’s back in his holster and he’s dropping to his knees before me.
His hands climb up my legs and beneath my sundress, shoving it upward before he tears my underwear off with a simple flick of his fingers.
“Saint,” I sigh as he plunges his head beneath my dress, his tongue sliding up my heat in one smooth lick. My fingers slide through his hair, my other hand flying behind me to brace against the hood of the car. “Not. Fair.”
He licks me again before moving my dress so he can look up at me. God, he looks incredible like that, on his knees, his eyes nearly black with desire. For me. All for me.
“Who said I ever played fair?” He smirks before unleashing himself on me, licking and sucking and nibbling me into a purely white-hot knot.
I gasp, my breath hard to catch as he eats at me, right there in the garage with no regard to who might find us this way.
Anticipation curls low in my core at the thought of being caught like this, at the danger in the games we like to play.
I never knew how fit I was for these games until I met Saint.
Never understood the cravings I had until he introduced them to me.
“Goddammit,” I hiss. “I love you.” The words are a plea from my lips as he dances me up to the edge of the release, then pulls away, keeping me from coming.
He rises to his full height above me, eyes trailing the length of my body in a leisurely, claiming look. Quickly, he undoes his pants, lowering them just enough to free himself as he grips my hips and steps between my thighs.
I shiver at the first graze of his thick length through my oversensitive flesh.
“Love you,” he says before he thrusts into me. “Now, I’m going to fuck some sense into you.”
I gasp, exhilaration shooting through me as he fills me, plunging in and out of my heat fast and hard and unhindered.
My arms fly around his neck, holding on to him as he fucks me against the hood of the car, quite literally stealing all thoughts prior to this from my mind.
Nothing exists out of this feeling, the pleasure building like a storm beneath my skin.
The heat from his body as he claims mine, the way his fangs are out as he looks down at me.
“Yes,” I moan. “God, yes. Keep doing that.” I dig my nails into his shoulders, my entire body trembling as he drags himself out of me and pumps into me again and again.
Each time we connect hits that sparkling bundle of nerves that as has me flying.
“Saint!” I sink my fangs into his exposed neck as I come, instinct taking over.
His blood hits my tongue and I come again, tasting his desire, his need for me in the notes of it.
“Fuck, yes,” he groans, hardening inside me another degree before he finds his own release.
I drink him down, relishing the way he coats my throat before I seal the wounds closed. His blood is like an all-time high—ancient and powerful, dangerous and deep, just like him.
He gently pulls out of me, fixing his pants and readjusting my dress before he picks me up off the hood of the car, cradling me to his chest.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask, mind spinning from the orgasms and his blood.
“Back to bed,” he says as he walks us through the garage and back into the residence. “We’re just getting started.”
The next night, I wait a full thirty minutes after Saint leaves to feed, hoping it’s enough time for him to get off the property before I find Ajax in the gardens with Grace.
“Dagon mentioned your plan,” he says after I’ve approached him with the same pitch. “I agree with him. It’s not a bad idea.”
“Then let’s do it,” I ask, hope rising again. “I lure him out of hiding. You pause time. Dagon and Talon and Zachariah and hell, even Alek could subdue him. The assassins could take care of any Sons that are a threat.”
“It sounds foolproof.” Ajax nods, eyes flashing to Grace for a moment. “I can see it working.”
Grace glares at him, then at something behind me.
“Except for one issue,” Saint says.
I close my eyes, not bothering to turn around. “You paused time, didn’t you?”
“Yep,” Ajax says, gliding his hand into Grace’s. “We’re needed…elsewhere.”
I open my eyes just in time to see Grace mouthing the word sorry before Ajax speeds them off.
“Evening, mate,” Saint says.
I groan, then take off into the hedges, trying to catch him off guard.
He catches me in less than two minutes.
He makes me come in less than one.
“Ransom,” I beg the next night. “You have to want this to end too. Especially with your newborn.”
“Of course, I do,” the assassin says. “This war has taken more from us than it should and it’s gone on for far too long. Trust me. If we could make it work and ensure your safety and that your mate wouldn’t carve me to pieces, then yes, I would help you initiate your plan.”
“But I will carve you into pieces,” Saint says, materializing out of thin air.