Though her body demanded she take what Atlas was offering, Ascher was right.
The last thing she wanted was for Atlas to regret making the connection permanent in case he changed his mind.
“A bite.” Ryder nodded, his only concern seeming to be for her. “He needs to feel connected to you.”
She shivered at the lust in Ryder’s whisky-colored eyes, the yearning in them wrenching her heartstrings.
Her stomach somersaulted at being the center of their attention, and she resolutely turned away until it was only her and Atlas. She leaned forward and licked his throat, feeling him jerk at the contact. He peered at her from the corners of his eyes, not ready to take his attention away from those who wanted to take her from him.
“Atlas.” He slowly turned his head toward her, his hips settling more firmly between her thighs, causing her breath to catch in her throat. Need burned through her at the contact, and she unconsciously rolled her hips, seeking more.
Before she lost her nerve, Morgan trailed her finger down his cheek. When he leaned into her touch, a pleased hum in his throat, she brought his mouth down on hers, coaxing him into forgetting about the others by taking her time, kissing his bottom lip, then top, enjoying the way he stiffened, as if struggling to let her take the lead. When he opened his mouth, she couldn’t resist the invitation, almost forgetting her purpose. Her tongue touched his fang, and he growled, his hips thrusting forward. Knowing he was seconds away from losing control, she nicked her tongue on his fangs, relishing his passion.
He flinched at the taste of her blood, jerking back from the kiss, his chest heaving as he struggled to find his breath.
“I hurt you.” He stared down at her, completely devastated.
The Atlas she knew had returned.
“Oh, hell no. You don’t get to walk away again over a fucking drop of blood.” Morgan unwrapped herself from him, already missing his warmth, but grabbed his hand, tangling their fingers together when he tried to turn away from her. “We’re both trained as assassins. We’re going to get hurt. We survive. Together. We did it your way while you kept your distance. It didn’t work. We’re going to do it my way now.”
He gazed down at their joined hands for a full minute, before finally looking up at her, the yearning in his expression making her heart feel like it was ready to explode. “You said you need my help.”
“What?” Morgan blinked at his question, struggling to follow the jump in the conversation. Then what he said registered…he was going to stay. Loki leapt on her shoulder, nuzzling her behind her ear, and she grinned.
“What trouble did you find in the short time you were on your own?” Atlas seemed amused and exasperated, his eyes flicking toward Loki.
“Not him.” She scowled, her brain firing in fits and starts as she tried to bury her lust until a more appropriate time. She met his gaze, biting her lips in indecision, then turned and tugged her hair over her shoulder and pulled up her shirt. “Him.”
Chapter Thirteen
The phoenix fluttered against her back in agitation, his claws gouging into her flesh, as if terrified the guys would try to peel him off. When none of them moved or spoke, she tugged her shirt down self-consciously. “Remember when I thought the elves were hunting something in the forest? I think I now know what they were chasing.”
When she turned to face them, she halted at the looks of horror on their faces. She swallowed hard, her spirits plummeting. “Not good, huh?”
Ascher cupped her jaw, pressing his forehead against hers. “Beautiful, you’re bound to the phoenix. They’re very rare, and even more dangerous when they take their full form.”
“It was an accident.” She inhaled the scent of charcoal and flames, allowing herself to relax. “They were going to kill him, so I tucked him in my shirt to protect him. He’s free to go…just tell me how to release him.”
He rubbed his fingers over her brows, his shattered expression telling her without words that it was too late. “When a phoenix manifests, they are full of fire and magic until their flame burns out…usually killing the host in the process.”
Morgan was stunned. “You said usually.”
He shook his head. “Think of it like an atomic bomb going off.”
The phoenix fluttered his feathers, the weight of him heavy against her skin, heat licking along her back, and she didn’t know if the bird was trying to offer her comfort or give her a warning. Morgan backed away from the group. No way in hell would she take them with her when she detonated. “Change of plans. I’ll go—”
“You’re not going anywhere without us.” Kincade marched up to her, gripped her head in his callused hands, and crushed his lips against hers, stealing her ability to think.
Atlas came next, performing an elegant bow despite his battered appearance, grabbing her hand and brushing his thumb over her palm in a light caress.
Draven’s eyes were as stormy as the sea as he approached, and he gave her a hard hug. “I’m not letting you go off alone to have all the fun.”
“You are crazy if you think—”
Ryder snarled, cutting off her words. His eyes splintered as he struggled to contain his wolf as his rage almost took over. She slipped around the other men and approached him cautiously. She didn’t fear for her safety—she was terrified for his.
When she was close enough, she very carefully slipped her arms around his waist, then hugged him tight. His breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as she lay her head against him, rubbing her cheek across his chest.
“Mine.” The word was garbled through his fangs, but she understood. He grabbed her chin with claw-tipped fingers, and lifted her head. “I will track you down and follow, no matter where you go.”
While Morgan wanted to smack them for their idiocy, their support made the back of her throat ache.
Leaving them would gut her.
She would need to figure out a way to mask the markings to keep them safe. No way in hell was she going to let them stupidly sacrifice themselves to die at her side.
Before she went off like some damned Fourth of July fireworks, she would save them all by figuring out what the hell escaped Tartarus.
“We should get going.” She untangled herself from Ryder, then headed for the door.
“Morgan.” Her hand tightened on the knob at Kincade’s amused voice. “It won’t work.”
She scowled, then cleared her face and glanced at them over her shoulder, blinking innocently. “I don’t know what you mean.”
He strode toward her with the lethal grace one could only get from being a trained fighter. He smiled at her, his amusement stealing her breath. She couldn’t remember the last time he smiled like that…if he ever had.
“What he means is you’re not leaving without us.” Ascher came to a stop on his right.
“We signed on for the full ride. When the female dies, so do her guardians.” Atlas joined them, giving a negligible shrug, as if he hadn’t just destroyed her world. “It doesn’t matter how far or hard you run.”
Morgan stubbornly shook her head. “No, others have survived—”
“A week, maybe two at most.” Kincade waved a dismissive hand.
Devastation hollowed out her chest until breathing became difficult. The five men who meant everything to her stood before her, and she turned to look directly at Draven. “You stay.”
“Morgan—”
“No, dammit.” She would not be charmed by his amused smile. “You have a sister out there who needs her big brother. You have a life. You will not throw it away for me.”
His face darkened a second before it cleared of any emotions, the way he looked right before killing his opponent. He stalked toward her, but she refused to back down. “Dying is the risk we take for any job. Do you think that I would—”
“The gods be damned, I want you all to live!” Morgan wanted to tear out her hair in frustration. “Why is that so hard to get through your thick skulls!”