Marked by an Assassin (27 page)

Aya kicked off, crossing the span of mat between them in a blur and slamming into him. She knocked him back, sending him off balance, and shoved her hand up, catching him under the jaw with the heel of her palm. His head snapped back, his growl rumbled through her, and then he was on her.

She squeaked as he grabbed her arm and twisted with her, bringing her into a choke hold. The second she found her balance, she stomped on the inside of his ankle and whipped her left arm up, bringing her hand over her shoulder and cracking his nose with it. The metallic tang of blood flooded the thick air, bringing with it a momentary pang of guilt that she quickly suppressed.

Aya brought her right arm down hard and elbowed him in the ribs.

He grunted and lost his grip on her as he staggered backwards.

She turned on him, sweeping her left leg upwards as she did so, aiming for his head. He growled and blocked her with his right hand. His fingers tightened over her ankle and the world whirled past her as he pulled her towards him, bringing her leg under his left arm. He pinned it there, shoved her in the shoulder and sent her crashing onto her back on the rubber mat.

With him on top of her.

Aya struggled, shoving at his chest and trying to move him. He braced his weight on his palms above her shoulders and pinned her legs with his, bringing their bodies into contact. She instantly stilled, her heart lodging in her throat as her body came alive in a hot rush of tingles.

“Where was that fight when we were training?” he murmured, his warm breath washing her face, and canted his head to one side, his silver eyes shimmering with amusement.

Amusement she didn’t share. Couldn’t.

Not when his weight was pressing down on her in the most intoxicating way, making her think wicked things, filling her head with dangerous thoughts.

His smile faded as he stared down into her eyes, his feelings shifting as if they had caught the current of hers and he was being swept along in the moment with her now.

His steady silver gaze fell to her lips.

Her snow leopard side purred in anticipation, eager for her mate to take his prize for besting her.

Her more human side warned that prize would be her heart and he would crush it.

Aya panicked.

She pushed against his shoulders with all of her strength, shoving him off her, and scrambled onto her feet, her heart hammering painfully against her ribs.

He sat on the floor staring up at her, a lost look on his face.

“I need a break.” She ran for the door and bolted down the corridor outside it, not slowing until she had reached the black door of her quarters near Harbin’s.

She hesitated and looked back along the hallway towards the gym, her heart steadying as she breathed slowly. The part of her that expected Harbin to be only a few steps behind her was disappointed, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. She had survived Hell in the hands of Archangel, had been strong enough to withstand the torture they had inflicted on her for three years, but she wasn’t sure she was strong enough to survive this.

The more time she spent with Harbin, the deeper her need of him grew, and the weaker she felt.

She needed him more than air in her lungs or food in her belly.

She still had two more days until her return to the mortal world.

She wasn’t sure she could last that long.

She wasn’t sure she could last another second without another taste of Harbin.

Harbin slammed his fist into the black punch bag. It swung back violently, the chain rattling, before coming at him. He smashed his other fist into it, knocking it at an angle towards his right, and swiftly shifted around to his left, dropped his torso and brought his right leg up. He growled as his shin connected with the heavy bag and carried through, putting all of his strength into the kick.

The bag lurched, swinging upwards and almost touching the ceiling of the gym before coming back down.

He didn’t let up the assault. Whenever the bag came close to him, he attacked again, punching and kicking, each move fast and full of the fury blazing in his blood.

Anger stirred by the way he had handled Aya.

Stoked by the way she had walked away from him with a cold look in her eyes, one he had never seen before and never wanted to see again. She had looked at him as if he was a stranger, and it had left him frozen to his bones, shaken to his soul. He had foolishly opened up to her, allowing her close to him, and now she was distancing herself from him.

Fuck, it was what he wanted.

Wasn’t it?

If this distance between them was truly what he desired, why did he feel so wretched?

Why was he yearning for her, aching to feel her in his arms, to have her standing before him with warmth in her beautiful eyes?

He smashed his left fist into the bag, his bones aching from the force of the blow, and snarled through his emerging fangs.

He needed to get away from the guild, needed space so he could clear his head and think straight. That need was strong, but another was stronger. The need to remain near Aya. The thought of leaving her alone in the guild tore another growl from his lips and had his snow leopard side pushing hard, commanding him to go to her and guard her door while she was vulnerable.

Harbin caught the punch bag in both hands and breathed hard, fighting that urge as it grew stronger. Sweat rolled down his spine beneath his t-shirt, soaking the black material. He pushed one hand through the damp strands of his silver hair and exhaled slowly, seeking to steady his heart.

It was impossible when everything in the room smelled like Aya, taunting him with her scent, keeping his need for her at a steady rolling boil.

He wasn’t right for her.

No female like Aya deserved a fucked up guy like him, but there was a part of him that just couldn’t stay away from her, that only wanted her more because she had turned cold towards him, pushing him away.

He needed to thaw the ice that had been in her eyes.

He needed to thaw the block of it that filled his chest.

He just needed her.

She had snuck into his heart, and he had the feeling that she had already stolen it without him noticing, and now he couldn’t function without her. She had become his heart.

She had become his light in the darkness, his reason for moving forward through life.

She had become his everything.

That scared him.

He still wasn’t sure whether she could ever accept a male like him as her mate. She hadn’t given him any indication that she wanted more from him than a tumble in the hay. Gods, it was a messed up situation. He had spent forty years wanting nothing from females but a quick fuck with no strings attached, discarding them when they tried to get too close to him.

Now he was the one who wanted to get close to someone, and they were the one pushing him away.

Maybe he was getting what he deserved.

Maybe.

But he wouldn’t know if he didn’t fight for her, if he didn’t put his heart on the line and do all he could to convince her that he could be what she needed.

He had to try.

Because the thought of losing her hollowed out his chest and left him dead inside.

Harbin strode across the room, yanked the door open and stormed down the black corridor, heading towards her quarters. He picked up pace as he walked, each stride quicker than the last, until he was jogging and then running through the building, his heart filled with a need to see his female.

He needed to have her in his arms again. He needed her to look at him with that soft light in her eyes, the one that made him feel she could love him.

That he was worthy of someone’s affection.

That he wasn’t a lost cause, doomed to the darkness.

That he could be saved.

He could redeem himself.

He skidded to a halt outside her room and braced his hands on the doorframe, catching his breath as his thoughts kept running at a million miles per hour, rushing through his head and making him dizzy.

Aya was everything he needed. She was his redemption. Revenge wouldn’t grant him the peace he had found with her, the strength to move forward and walk a lighter path with her at his side.

He twisted the knob and pushed the door open, entering quietly and scanning the bedroom. Her clothes lay in a heap on the dark blue bed covers. His ears twitched as the sound of water running reached them and he eased the door closed behind him, his gaze straying to the bathroom door. She was showering.

Fuck, that had his body responding in an instant, mind conjuring an image of her that he couldn’t shake. He palmed the growing bulge in his sweatpants, rubbing his hand down the length of it, and tried to stifle the sudden surge of desire. He had come here to talk to her, but his body had other ideas now, and every hard inch of him wanted to go along with them.

He had seen the way she had looked at him, had sensed the depth of her desire back in the gym when she had been pinned beneath him, her soft body cushioning his. She had thought wicked things, and now he wanted to make those things a reality.

His feet carried him towards the bathroom door, a slave to his desire, lost in the thought of having her again and satisfying her needs.

He slipped silently into the room and watched her as she turned beneath the jet of hot water, his heart labouring and cock growing ever harder, until it bordered on painful. She sang as she washed her hair, the damned steam from the water obscuring her body and stealing it from view.

He wanted to see it again.

He kicked off his boots, but didn’t bother removing the rest of his clothes, didn’t even think about what he was doing as he slowly walked towards her. She turned back towards the water, raising her head and allowing it to stream over her face.

Harbin’s heart beat hard as he slid the double shower cubicle’s door open and stepped onto the raised tray.

Aya shrieked and turned to face him, spraying him with hot water. It bounced off her shoulders as she stared at him, wide eyed, her shock rippling through him.

“Harbin—”

He pressed the fingers of his left hand to her lips and claimed her hip with his right one, shaking his head as he drew her closer to him.

“Don’t speak. I’m afraid that if you speak, I’ll change my mind.” He dropped his head and kissed her, and moaned as she responded, instantly opening for him, her tongue seeking his.

He growled into her mouth as he angled his head and kissed her, pulling her up against him and pinning her there, keeping her close to him. She tiptoed and stroked his tongue with hers, tearing another groan from him as he imagined that tongue teasing him elsewhere. His cock throbbed in response, pressing against her belly, and she tensed.

Her hands pressed against his chest and he thought she would push him away and tell him to leave, but she bunched his t-shirt into her fists and kissed him harder instead. The water beat down on her back, spraying over him too, soaking his clothes. A growl rumbled up his throat when she tightened her grip on his t-shirt and the sound of material tearing filled the heavy air. A thrill went through him when he felt her claws pressing into his bare flesh.

Fuck, he needed to be naked with her.

He needed to feel her nails scoring his flesh again as he satisfied her.

He needed her to mark him as hers.

He stepped back, released her and yanked his t-shirt off. It slapped on the floor behind him and Aya’s little growl of appreciation almost did him in. He trembled as he forced himself to remain still, to absorb the sight of her standing before him, her hungry eyes tracking over his chest and downwards, lingering on each tensed muscle of his abdomen before drifting onwards to the waist of his sweatpants.

She licked her lips.

He snarled in response, his need stoked to new dizzying heights by the desire rolling off her, hunger that he had stirred in her. He wanted to satisfy that hunger, pleasuring her until she couldn’t take any more.

He wanted her to keep looking at him like that, as if she couldn’t get enough of him, might die if he didn’t touch her or allow her to touch him.

He ran his thumbs around the waist of his sweatpants and her breathing came quicker, her heart pounding in his ears as her eyes followed his hands. Her sweet lips parted, her chest heaving as he slowly inched his pants down over his hips.

Her pupils dilated as he revealed his rigid length, her breath stilling and eyes locking on it. The hunger that poured through him was potent and commanding, telling him to take her. She was ready. He could feel it in her. She wanted what she saw and it was hard to deny her, to take things steady this time.

He needed more from her than a quick dirty fuck in a shower.

She needed more.

He kicked his sweatpants off, shoved them behind him with his foot, and ran his hand down the length of his cock.

She growled, a possessive and hungry rumble that had his balls tightening in response and pushed him to forget about taking things slowly.

He breathed through it, finding his control again, and looked her over.

Gods, she was incredible.

His hungry gaze lingered on the flare of her hips and the roundness of her belly. She turned slightly, her hands coming up to cover her breasts, as if his scrutiny embarrassed her. Her body twisted at an angle, revealing the lush curve of her bottom and hiding the neat thatch of curls at the apex of her thighs.

Hell, she was like Venus in that painting.

All curves. All woman.

A beauty.

Her figure spoke to him on a primal level, one he had never been aware of before setting eyes on her. She was sexy as sin and as alluring as a siren. He had always figured himself to be like so many other males, attracted to model-thin females, but he had never felt as drawn, as deeply attracted, to anyone as he was to her.

She was perfection.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off her curves, or his thoughts off placing his hands on them and claiming them as he drew her against him.

The shy edge to her expression pulled words up from his heart, ones he couldn’t hold back, because he knew she needed to hear them.