Born of Ice

Devyn rolled his eyes as Taryn called him by his sister’s name. “So how is Adron?” He thought about his old friend a lot. But Adron barely spoke to him anymore. He was isolated in a world of painful bitterness that caused him to shut out everyone who loved him.

Taryn set the box down and sighed. “Same as always. Angry at the world and wanting to kill Jayce.”

Their brother Jayce had been the one to save Adron’s life, and for that, Adron hated his brother with a passion. The code of the assassin was to die should they ever be crippled by their duties. If another assassin found one seriously comprised, he was supposed to kill him. But Jayce had been unable to kill his own brother.

And even though Adron wanted to die, he refused to hurt his family by killing himself. So he was trapped in a body that wouldn’t work while he lived a life of utter misery in constant pain.

“Is Jayce any better?” Devyn asked.

“No. None of us are.” His dark eyes flashed. “Which is why I don’t want you straining yourself. I already have one hardheaded asshole bent on suicide. I don’t need another one.”

Devyn held his hands up in surrender. “By all means, get a hernia. Knock yourself out. Gods forbid I stop you. Not like I spent ten years in med school or anything to know when I need to sit down.”

Taryn made an obscene gesture before he hefted another box.

But in all seriousness, Devyn understood why Adron hated the world. There were times when he did, too. Nothing like being royally fucked over by someone you loved to suck the will to live right out of you. This was not the life he’d dreamed of when he was a kid.

He’d imagined a world of justice where he’d fight for The League to protect the innocent. A world that included a woman who would stand by his side.

Not one who would smile at his face while she drove a knife through his heart.

Literally.

And babies . . . He’d imagined a lot of kids. Omari would make one hell of an older brother to someone.

You have no right to complain.

True.

It’s all good. He had a great son who did honor to both of them, and more than that—we’re all fed and no one’s dead. That had always been his uncle’s philosophy. So long as those two things were taken care of, nothing else really mattered.

He saw an image of Alix in his mind and actually flinched. More than anything, she reminded him of those long-buried dreams he’d once shared with Clotilde. Damn her for looking so much like her.

And damn her for being so enticing as to make him want to forget about Clotilde and start over.

Don’t . . .

He had a new future to focus on. One that didn’t include anything except keeping his crew safe and helping the rebels who opposed The League. That was the only thing he needed to expend his energy on.



“I am not interested in Devyn.”

You’re such a liar.

But it was something Alix had to teach herself to believe.

Zarina made a very undignified sound of disagreement. “Honey, you look at that man like you can already taste him. I know that look. I’ve had it a time or two myself. Not at Devyn, ’cause . . . ew! That’s like fantasizing over one of my brothers, but I know tasty when I see it and I know that man well enough to know that he’s not immune to you, either. Devyn is very interested.”

Yeah, right. Alix was anything but stupid, and she knew that while Devyn was kind to her in bed, he didn’t have any deeper feelings for her than that. Dreams were for fools and men only used the women around them. Once done, they moved on.

Unless they owned the woman. Then they used her to their heart’s content without any regard for her feelings. That was probably why the Hyshians had chosen to enslave and subjugate their men.

But that was neither here nor there. Devyn was the key to her freedom and that was all he could ever be.

Alix looked away as the waiter brought their dessert. She’d been trying for the last half hour to change the subject, but Zarina wouldn’t be swayed. She was an obsessive personality who had a raw determination that only a three-year-old could envy.

“I’m not his type.”

Zarina gave her a droll stare. “Do you even know what that is?”

Alix sighed. “No, but I’m rather sure it begins with gorgeous, which is a far cry from me.”

“Do you even own a mirror?”

“Yeah. I do.” And she’d used it enough to know that she was too curveless, too pale and too fragile. To quote her father, she looked like something a wolf had gobbled up and shit down the wrong side of a mountain.

Zarina rolled her eyes before she dug into her purse. After a few seconds, she pulled out a small photo MVM and scrolled through it. She handed it to Alix. “You were saying?”

Alix’s breath caught as she looked down and saw a woman who bore an uncanny resemblance to her. The only difference was the other woman wore a lot of makeup and had short hair.

And her attitude was completely different. Unlike Alix, she stood confident.

No . . .