Daughters of Lyra: Heart of an Assassin Read online

  “I am Perseian.” Speaking the name of his species made him remember the pendant that he had bought Natalia, one which he would never have the audacity or courage to give to her but which now resided close to her hands in his jacket pocket. His gaze flicked to it and then to her hands. She was toying with the sleeves of his jacket, her slender fingers tracing the blue embroidery around the cuffs. “These are the weapons I was raised with. The only ones that I have needed since I took the trials as a child.”

  “You went through trials when you were a boy?” She drew her knees up again, wrapping her arms around them and looking up at him. He was thankful that her hands were away from the pockets of his jacket.

  He nodded.

  “Tell me about them.”

  Ixion tensed. He didn’t want to tell her about them. She didn’t need to know about the things that he had done.

  “Is something wrong?” she said with a frown.

  He bowed his head. “My lady, I request you give me leave to refuse your request.”

  She giggled. “Why should I grant your request to request that I give you leave to refuse my request?”

  He frowned. She was playing with him. The things that he had done were no laughing matter. If he told her, she would never look at him again. She would fear him. He sighed, pressed his right hand against his chest, and closed his eyes.

  “My lady does not need to know the things that I have done, only that I will protect her.”

  She was silent for a long time. He didn’t dare look at her. It had taken him a strangely large amount of courage to say those words. He had told her earlier that he would protect her but now it felt different to say such a thing. It felt as though he was confessing that there was something deeper than his duty behind his reason for protecting her.

  “I would like to know.” Her voice was small.

  He looked at her, right into her green eyes, trying to see if she was telling the truth.

  “Why?” he said.

  She toyed with the fastenings on his jacket. “So I will know you better.”

  He bowed his head again. “I am unworthy of such a thing.”

  “Indulge my whim then and tell me because I am asking you to.”

  “An order?”

  “If you prefer it that way.” There was an edge to those words that said she might order him to do other things if he was lucky. He could only pray to Iskara for such an elusive dream to come true.

  “Then I will do as my lady asks.” He drew up a chair and set it down in front of her.

  Just as he was going to sit down, a loud blast shook the building. Natalia gasped. One of the white spotlights went out and then blinked back into life. The baby Friskin made a purring noise.

  Ixion reached into the crate and stroked it. It settled immediately. He glanced at Natalia. Her eyes were wide and fearful again. He wished he could soothe her fear so easily.

  Perhaps talking to her would keep her mind off the fighting outside.

  He sat down on the chair and thought about what to tell her. Only the truth would do, although he would omit some parts.

  “Tell me about the trials,” she said in a tight voice.

  If she feared the fighting outside, then telling her about the trials would only scare her more, but she had ordered him.

  “They are a rite of passage on Perseia. I was the only survivor out of nineteen others who shared my birth date.”

  “That’s terrible. What happened to them?”

  He leaned back in the chair. “I killed them.”

  Her eyes shot wide and she gasped again. Her mouth opened but he beat her to speaking.

  “It is the way of Perseia,” he said, hoping it would make her see that he’d had little choice in the matter. “All males of eleven years—”

  “Eleven!” she shrieked, cutting him off. She looked horrified. “They made you kill at eleven?”

  Clearly his people were not well documented and she didn’t have access to any of the palace personnel files or information about the royal assassins. He had thought that she would know where they all came from and how they arrived at the position.

  “I joined the Lyran royal assassins at age fifteen and was the commander here by twenty-five.” He didn’t hold back now. He wanted to see how she would react to the knowledge that Perseia had always supplied Lyra with its elite assassins and how they were raised so they were good enough for her family. He wanted to see if she would finally be frightened of him rather than fascinated. If she did change towards him, it would put an end to his feelings once and for all. “I was bred to kill.”

  “You were so young,” she said, leaning towards him, her expression full of concern.

  “All Lyran royal assassins join at the same age when our training is complete.”

  “Are they all Perseian?”

  He nodded.

  “Does Lyra dictate the age at which they are put into service?”

  He nodded again and she paled. She looked down at her hands where they rested in her lap and then up into his eyes.

  “And you joined at fifteen. Why?”

  “Lyra takes all of the sons from specific bloodlines and has done for generations. My father served Lyra and my grandfather before him, going back hundreds of years.” He paused for breath, thinking about his family and how he had rarely seen his father. Assassins could only return to Perseia once every two years. Most mated in that time in the hope of gaining a son to carry on the bloodline and the honour of being a royal assassin. His father had been a commander on Lyra Prime. Ixion had only seen him four times in his entire lifetime. “I was expected to continue the tradition. My bloodline will expect me to… mate… and bear a son that will carry on the name and become an assassin.”

  Natalia fell quiet, her fingers twisting the fine blue material of her dress. Did she finally see him for what he truly was? A killer, unfit for a princess such as her, and someone that she should fear rather than seek to know more about.

  “Did they make you take the trials?”

  He wondered if it would make a difference if he said that they had even though they hadn’t.

  “No,” he said and she looked at him. “All males take part in the trials. There is no option to not take the trials because all would do it regardless. The trials are to gain our honour. It is the first step on our path to upholding our families’ names.”

  “But so many die.”

  “They did not die, my lady. I killed them.”

  “Why?” There were tears in her eyes.

  He cursed the sight of them and the way they made his heart ache to comfort her.

  “Because it is the way of my people and because I had to maintain the name of my bloodline. Failure was not acceptable. None of my bloodline has ever died in the trials.”

  “Do you regret what you did?”

  “Not now. It was them or me and I have done far worse things since.”

  “In the name of Lyra,” she muttered and sighed. A tear slipped down her cheek. He longed to brush it away. “Have you killed many for us?”

  He nodded. Hundreds. If asked, he wouldn’t confess though. He didn’t want her to know how many lives he had taken, not when she struggled to come to terms with the nineteen lives he had taken as a child. If he told her how many he had killed in the name of Lyra, she would only cry.

  The sound of distant weapons fire filled the oppressive silence.

  “I’m frightened,” she whispered.

  “Of me?” That thought hurt. He had wanted her to be frightened but the idea that she actually might be made a dull ache settle in his chest.

  Natalia reached into the crate and stroked the baby bird. “No.”

  That word was like a sweet elixir to his heart.

  “What frightens my lady?”

  She looked at him and then at the doors far behind him at the back of the dimly lit club.

  “This fighting.”

  “I will not let anything happen to you. The battles are growing quiete
r. It will not be long until the military has them under control. It is safe here.”

  “With you,” she whispered with half a smile. “You wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

  His heart warmed at her belief in him and her trust. She was right. He would never allow anything to happen to her.

  He was surprised when she tilted her head back and started singing softly. The melody was one that he recognised but hadn’t heard in a long time. She had been singing it the night that he had first heard her.

  He had been en route back from his first mission as a commander and she had been walking the garden, the only light that of the crescent moon and the bright stars. She had been only fifteen then but her voice had been beautiful.

  Only not as beautiful as it was today.

  He had listened to her many times throughout her childhood and even more often when she had reached eighteen. He had allowed her to see him then, to know the presence of the assassins and to see how she reacted to him. She had been so fascinated that she had stopped singing.

  Her beauty had stopped his world from spinning.

  The moon had been shining down on her, highlighting her pale gown and the silver threads that ran through her hair, holding it back. He had fallen for her then. She had looked like an angel.

  With a voice that matched.

  No.

  “Iskara’s angels have no voice to compare to yours,” he whispered, unsure whether he wanted her to hear.

  She faltered and looked at him. Her voice died away and he cursed himself for speaking. She was looking at him with such questioning eyes. They demanded answers and he would give them to her.

  “I have always listened to you sing.” He somehow managed to hold her gaze and keep his voice steady. “You have a beautiful voice… although I preferred it when you were younger.”

  She frowned. “Why?”

  “Because your songs were only for my ears then.”

  Her lips parted, her mouth falling open as she blinked at him. Iskara, he wanted to kiss her. He wanted to confess everything—he loved her more than anything. No male could ever love her like he did.

  Crimson touched her cheeks and she averted her gaze.

  He cursed again. He hadn’t wanted her to turn quiet or be ashamed. He should have kept silent and let her sing. She had obviously been trying to calm her nerves and he had ruined it with his foolish words. As though a princess could ever love someone like him.

  She pulled his jacket closer around her, her fingers slipping into the pockets to hold it closed. He froze when she frowned and looked down at one of the pockets. She reached a little further in and his heart stopped.

  Natalia slowly pulled the heart pendant from his jacket pocket and held it up in the light.

  Her eyes shot to his.

  Ixion swallowed hard.

  This was going to go horribly wrong.

  ****

  Chapter 6

  Natalia stared at the pendant dangling in front of her, still shocked from finding it. Why would Ixion have the pendant that she had set her heart on at the festival but hadn’t been able to afford?

  Her heart whispered that he had bought it for her but that didn’t make any sense at all. Ixion couldn’t afford to buy such an expensive item and, even if he could, why would he buy it for her?

  She slipped down from the stage and came to stand in front of him. Staring down at him, she waited to see if he was going to explain. She knew that he wasn’t a thief but she needed to hear him say it. She needed to know why he had the pendant that she had wanted.

  “Princess Natalia.” The sound of her name spoken in his deep voice sent a shiver tripping down her spine and her stomach warmed. “I can explain.”

  She touched the stone at the same time as he did. It turned black. He snatched his hand back and the heart turned purple again.

  She hadn’t realised that it could do such a thing. No wonder it was expensive. Whatever it was made from, it wasn’t a cheap stone that could be found anywhere. She had thought that it was just purple glass.

  “Why do you have this?” Her voice shook almost as much as her hands. The pendant jiggled, the heart swinging in a small circle.

  “I…” He lowered his head. The long finger-length black strands of his hair fell forwards to hide his face. She wished he would look up at her again so she could read the reason in his eyes because she was beginning to fear that he was going to leave her with no explanation. “Forgive me.”

  She frowned. Forgive him? His tone had held such a solemn note, one that spoke to her heart and told her to do as he had asked, even though she didn’t know why he wanted to be forgiven.

  “I should not have bought it,” he said to his knees. “But the Perseian took a little money and handed it to me. She spoke to me in my own language and made me foolishly believe in something which is impossible… I never intended to give it to you. Doing so would break—”

  “I forgive you.” Natalia didn’t want him to continue. If he was going to mention his duty and his position then she had to stop him.

  She knew that he had been watching her the whole time since she had left the palace but hadn’t realised how closely. He must have seen her at the stall and seen the disappointment she had felt on realising that she couldn’t afford the pendant. Taking a look at the scant silver Lynans in his jacket pocket, she realised that he probably hadn’t been able to afford it either. Had the woman given it to him for only a few of his Lynans because he was Perseian or because she had realised why he had wanted it?

  The woman had made him believe something that was impossible. What was that something? Did it have anything to do with her?

  Natalia looked at the pendant. It was beautiful, but what made her smile was the fact that Ixion had bought it for her because he had seen her disappointment.

  “Thank you,” she said and he looked up at her, his clear purple eyes as bright as the stone that she held. “No one other than my family has bought me a present before.”

  He frowned. “No one has bought you this. Only your family are worthy of buying you gifts.”

  Natalia’s shoulders slumped. She hated the way he talked about himself as though he didn’t exist. He had done so the night he had come to take her home from the club and he was doing it again now. She wanted to tell him that she thought he was someone of consequence and that he wasn’t a nobody. He existed to her, in her heart.

  “Can I keep it anyway?” She closed her fingers around the heart and held it to her chest. “Can I say that it means a lot to me and order you to believe it?”

  An order was probably her only way of making him believe it.

  She swallowed her nerves and stepped closer to him, so they were toe to toe. She looked down into his eyes and then leaned over, swept his black hair from his forehead, cupped his cheek and kissed him.