Marked by an Assassin (26 page)

He did the same with every male that crossed their paths, gaining a few odd looks from some of them. He didn’t care that he was acting territorial.

He wouldn’t let anyone frighten Aya.

He would protect her as he had promised.

They reached the main reception room. It was mercifully empty for once. His focus jumped to her cream slip where it lay on the floor where he had left it. He diverted course, bent and scooped it up, and held it out to Aya.

“You lost something.”

Her cheeks blazed and she grabbed the satin slip, scrunched it into a ball and shoved it into her pocket.

Harbin smiled, unable to contain it. She was even prettier when she blushed like that and it made him want to say things that would keep that red stain on her cheeks.

She edged her eyes up and he schooled his features, adopting a flat expression that would have hidden his thoughts from anyone but her. Her little smile said she had sensed his amusement and his desire. It was hard to hide anything when she was connected to him already, the depth of it allowing her to sense things in him. Such a powerful bond was vaunted among his kind, most of his species wishing it for themselves when they found their mates and cherished by those who were gifted it by fate. It was rare though.

Many believed it made things easier for fated mates who shared such a connection.

From where he was standing, it made the whole damned thing more difficult.

Because it was making him fall for her.

It had been three days since the meeting in Hartt’s office, and while Harbin hadn’t come out and told her straight how annoyed he was by the decision she had made and the fact the elf had backed it, he was definitely showing her how much it had angered him.

Harbin’s right fist slammed into her cheek, sending her stumbling a few steps before landing hard on the padded floor of the gym. She lay sprawled out on the rubber mat on her front, breathing hard and fighting to quell the pain. Every inch of her ached, but she wasn’t going to give up. He wanted to make her throw in the towel and go back on their plan, and she was determined to survive what he had termed ‘training’ and go through with it.

“You gonna lay there all day?” he bit out and she pressed her palms into the black rubber, drew down a deep breath and pushed up onto her knees.

Aya looked back over her shoulder at him and couldn’t miss the anger in his silver eyes. They glowed brightly, shining like liquid metal under sunlight. He paced the mat, radiating tension at a level that had her wary of him. He had grown increasingly aggressive over the past few days and she knew why.

He was worried about her.

This was his way of dealing with it and she had to admit it wasn’t a very good one. After the shouting match he’d had with Hartt about the plan the elf had put on the table, and the furious way he had looked at her when she had agreed to play bait, she had tried to talk to him about it.

He only responded in one of two ways each time she attempted to discuss things with him.

He either gruffly stated that he would protect her or he said it was her funeral.

Not entirely the most helpful of responses. His mood had been mercurial, swinging between those two feelings, but one thing had remained constant.

His desire to train her.

Gods, he was pushing her hard and he knew it. The bastard probably savoured it, thinking she would give up if he kept shoving her harder and harder, hitting her with everything he had and holding nothing back.

Well, she had news for him. She couldn’t give up, no matter how much she wanted to collapse on the smelly rubber floor and sleep until her aching body healed.

She couldn’t give up because she wanted vengeance too, hungered for it now that she knew the truth and knew that the one responsible was within her reach. If she could play her role and lure the Archangel huntress out of hiding, then both of them could turn the page on a chapter of their lives that had been a nightmare.

They could begin a new life.

Aya sat back on her knees and looked up at Harbin as he stopped before her, a towering mountain of muscle and menace, his eyes flashing dangerously. He was angry with her and Hartt, but she could feel other emotions in him. She could sense the underlying tension born of the realisation that he was slowly closing in on the target that had eluded him for two decades, the one responsible for using him and killing so many of his pride. She could feel that he was eager to put the plan into motion, near desperate for her to reach a point in her training where they could set the trap for the huntress, and that waiting was killing him.

He wanted to rush to the final step.

She could understand that.

This moment had been twenty years in the making and she felt the full weight of her part in the plan on her shoulders. He was relying on her to carry it out flawlessly. She would. She wouldn’t fail him.

He held his hand out to her and she slipped hers into it. Warmth flowed down her arm from where they touched, heating her blood and making it burn for him. She stifled the need it birthed, a fierce hunger to have him touching her again that had been steadily growing since they had made love. She had hoped the passionate moment they had shared would scratch her itch for him, allowing her to focus again, but it had only made things worse.

The wicked hungry look in his silver eyes said that she wasn’t the only one aching for an encore.

The second she was on her feet, he released her and backed off, placing a few metres between them. The room was huge, all of the equipment moved to the edges of the floor, but she still felt as if there wasn’t enough space or enough air for her to breathe easily.

Every morning she arrived here ahead of him from her assigned quarters nearby, dressed in the tight-fitting sports tank and sweatpants he had gotten her from the mortal world. Every morning she warmed up alone in the huge room.

And every morning when he stalked into it, a grim look on his handsome face and his eyes instantly locking on hers, he sucked the air from the room and it closed in on her, feeling suddenly cramped and confining.

That sensation only grew worse as they sparred, each blow he landed sending mixed signals through her body, making her angry that he had managed to strike her but thrilled by the feel of his skin on hers.

Gods, she was messed up.

Fighting with him turned her on, and she hadn’t failed to notice that it affected him too.

He had stormed away from her enough times, slamming the door and leaving her alone for long minutes before eventually returning and acting as if nothing had happened.

And every time he returned, she ached for him to grab her and pin her to the wall and take her as he had in his bedroom, wild and frantic with need, lost in his passion and desires.

He never did.

She had sworn what they had done would be a one-time thing, but she couldn’t stop herself from wanting more from him. She didn’t think this yearning for him would end until they went their separate ways.

She wasn’t sure it would end even then.

Was she doomed to spend forever aching for Harbin?

Aya exhaled hard.

She had made her mind up about him and she would stick with that decision, no matter how fiercely she desired him.

She readied herself again and he did the same, shifting his feet further apart and adopting a stance that she was familiar with now. She knew which direction he would attack from and she would defend against it, just as he had trained her to do.

He launched his left fist forwards, a lightning-fast strike that had caught her off guard the first few times they had fought. She blocked with her right arm, knocking his aside, and swung her left fist, aiming low. Her blow connected with his side below his ribs, tearing a grunt from his lips that she refused to feel bad about. He wasn’t pulling his punches so she refused to go easy on him in return.

Harbin dropped his right hand and went to snare hers. She whipped it back, raised and aimed again, throwing her weight into the blow. He growled as it smashed into his cheek, snapping his head back, and then dropped into a low crouch.

She always hated this bit.

She cried out as his fist struck her in her stomach, sending pain splintering outwards, and recovered a second later, in time to grab his hair and shove his head down as she brought her knee up. It cracked into his face and she released him as he fell backwards from the force of the blow, landing on his backside. He rolled backwards and pressed his hands into the floor above his shoulders.

Every powerful muscle on his torso flexed, distracting her.

She missed her cue as he flipped onto his feet and his fist smashed into her cheek, sending her crashing onto the mats.

“For fuck’s sake, Aya!” His bark was startling in the quiet room, the volume of it hurting her buzzing ears as her body swiftly tried to heal the damage he had done, bringing her senses back on line. “I’ve told you a thousand fucking times… side step, elbow to my face. I’ll block it and you can kick out at my ankle to knock me away.”

She flinched with each of the first few words but rallied as he went on, her anger mounting as he bore down on her, fury flashing across his face.

“I’m not an idiot,” she snapped and found her feet, coming to face him. She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him. “I was distracted.”

He huffed and folded his arms across his chest, causing his biceps to flex and distract her all over again. Gods damn him. They could have made her mate ugly in every way, but no, they made him fricking perfect.

“If you’re distracted in here, what the hell are you going to be like when you’re out there and your life is on the line? They have to buy the bullshit we’re peddling, Aya.” He stepped closer to her, until she had to tip her head back to keep her glare locked on his face, a face she wanted to smash her fist into right now. Maybe if she messed it up enough, she wouldn’t feel so hopelessly attracted to him. “What the hell is there to be distracted by in here anyway? I’ve removed everything that could possibly make you lose focus.”

“Everything except you,” she growled before she could consider the impact her words would have and that she was blowing her defences wide open, leaving herself too vulnerable for comfort.

He stilled and stared at her, his anger leaving him in a visible rush.

Aya spun on her heel and paced away from him, unable to bear the way he was looking at her as if she had just confessed that she loved him or some shit like that and he hadn’t had a clue she felt something for him. Liar. She might have knocked him with her words, but she wasn’t the only one having concentration issues. She had taken him down a few times when he should have been ready for her move, too busy staring at her body to notice her fist flying at his face.

“I’m not alone in this, Harbin.” She turned to face him, breathing hard to curb her anger and the pressing need to pretend she hadn’t just opened a can of worms she had intended to firmly keep the lid on. She couldn’t run away now. She had to keep marching forwards, full steam ahead, even when she wasn’t sure what it was that she wanted.

The past three days had thrown her feelings into disarray, leaving her unsure whether she was coming or going, whether she wanted to leave him or convince him that they could make this thing between them work even though she couldn’t give him any cubs to continue his bloodline as a good mate could.

He didn’t say anything, just stood there breathing hard, his chest heaving beneath his tight black t-shirt. Distracting. Why couldn’t he have stayed the skinny rake he had been as a young male? Why had the gods allowed his body to fill out so deliciously?

“I know you feel it too, Harbin,” she whispered and his eyes widened further, his heart sounding in her ears as it picked up pace. “We’re mates.”

He turned on his heel and paced away from her, scrubbing a hand across the back of his neck. When he reached the other end of the room, he stopped and stood still for what felt like forever, remaining with his back to her. It didn’t take much effort on her part to feel the turbulent emotions in him. Her animal side was so attuned to his now that she could clearly sense them and the agitation and uncertainty they caused.

The hurt.

“I know.” He spun to face her, his eyes cold and devoid of emotion. “But that doesn’t mean I’m right for you, Aya. I can’t give you what you need… what you deserve.”

Gods, it hurt to hear him say that even when she felt the same way deep in her heart. She couldn’t give him what he deserved. She couldn’t give him a family to soothe the part of him that still hurt from losing his.

“You don’t have a clue what I need, and you don’t get to decide what I deserve,” she said and ventured a step towards him, her animal side prowling just beneath her skin as she stared him down. “It’s my choice.”

He had made himself a challenge, and heck, her primal nature appreciated that with a rumbling purr. It wanted to defeat him and bring him to his knees. It took all of her will to stop the shift from sweeping through her, carrying her away and making her surrender to that need to fight him and make him submit to her.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, giving her the strength to sever ties with him once their mission was done.

She had intended to leave him and not look back after all.

So why did it hurt so much to hear him say he didn’t want her as his mate?

Why did the rejection sting like a thousand hot needles piercing her heart?

She had thought she had hardened that heart, but it was as soft and vulnerable as it had been forty years ago, when he had broken it then.

Her primal side stirred in response to her pain, twisting it into anger, and she bared her small fangs as she growled at him. He wanted to see her fight, always goading her into going all out to make their mock-battle as realistic as possible and so he could assess her abilities.

Well, if he wanted a fight, she would damn well give him one.

She would show him that she wasn’t a delicate female in need of coddling, one who was too weak to walk in his world at his side. She would show him that she was strong enough to handle him.