“Fine.” She leaned her head back against my shoulder and sighed. “But I don’t want the gory details. I really don’t.”
Blade crossed the small room and stroked her cheek with gentle fingers. He was as ready as the rest of us to see this done. “Never, mate. We protect you in all things.”
Khon looked up from a tablet screen and put his blade away. “Mervan came through. Coordinates received, Styx.”
Mervan hadn’t wasted a second. He wanted to see this done as much as we did. No, he wanted the information. Immediately.
Cormac tilted his head from side to side, cracking his neck with a loud snap. “Let’s go.”
Blade leaned down and kissed Harper, hard and fast. “I will see you soon, mate.”
The others bowed slightly to both of us as they followed him out of the room.
I turned Harper in my arms and took her mouth slowly, gently, determined to savor her.
Her hands fisted in my uniform, and she was trembling. “You better come back to me. You and Blade promised.”
I tucked her hair behind her ear. “And which promise are you referring to, mate?”
“Bite me, Styx. I want you both to be mine.”
“We are already yours.”
“Forever, Styx. I want forever. I want that bite, and you’re going to give it to me.”
“Bossy. I like it.” I grinned—showing her my fangs that appeared because of her tone—kissed her once more, then was gone.
* * *
Blade
Leaving Harper was the hardest thing I’d ever had to do. The brush of her lips on mine wasn’t enough. She’d said she was ready to be claimed, ready for us to bite her, and yet we had to go track down traitors. I’d never cared before about cleaning up scum. It’s what we did. But now? Now I had more. Now I had Harper.
I knew she was safe.
We tasked Scribe and Ivar with protecting her while we were gone and they’d do so with their lives. Neither Styx nor I could sit out this fight. The need for blood was like a fever inside me. These traitors had attacked Harper, tried to kill our mate. Orchestrated an attack at our mating feast.
They were dead. Every fucking one of them was dead. I wouldn’t be able to sleep at night until this was done.
Blood for blood.
They went after Harper. They would die.
The coordinates were programmed in, and within seconds of stepping on the transport pad, we were with Mervan. He stood next to Styx at the front of the bay talking to our enforcers and his Coalition warriors. There were close to a hundred killing machines listening. These weren’t standard Coalition warriors. These were Intelligence Core. Killers, spies. A good number of Everian Hunters stood among us and more than two dozen Atlan beasts. The rest were Prillon warriors, hunting in pairs.
I’d never considered my people small. Weak.
But in this room of elite killers, we’d barely be able to hold our own.
For once, I was fine with that. I was fine to be considered less. If Mervan thought that and used his very large, very skilled resources to root out the fuckers, then I was fine with that. Whatever needed to happen to keep the Coalition away from Rogue 5 and us in bed with Harper as soon as possible.
Styx stood next to the doctor, arms crossed, a fierce scowl on his face. He looked exactly like what he was—a brutal, merciless killer. A king among outlaws. As I watched several of the Coalition warriors watch him with nervous glances, I was proud. Pride that these big, huge fuckers were wary of my leader made me want to grin. But I stifled it. Stifled everything but my need to kill.
Fuck the Coalition. Fuck the Atlans and the Prillons and the Everian Hunters. We were here for our people. For our mate. And Doctor Mervan didn’t want anyone in the Coalition to know he was on to the smuggling ring. Which was why every killer in the room wore black and silver. Styx colors.
It was the only time Styx would allow such a thing. Only those honorable enough wore our colors, but this time, this one time, we’d follow Mervan’s plan and everyone would appear to be part of the legion.
Styx was using the Coalition to send a message to Kronos they wouldn’t soon forget. All the legions would hear the news, about the monsters about to descend on their cargo ship and wreak havoc. Styx’s legend would grow. No one would fuck with us, or our mate. Not the Coalition, not Kronos or any other legion thinking of fucking with us.