Page 71 of Pretty Little Assassin

“Hey!” she squeals as I toss her over, not letting our bodies pull apart.

“My turn.” My mouth is at her ear. “I want to hear you scream like you mean it.”

Driving my cock into her is more than sex now. It’s more than pleasuring her into forgetting about the trauma she’s been through. It’s more than her nails digging into my chest as she reaches up for me now and leaving behind marks that will still be there in the morning. The act has teeth now. Because there is a word under it now.

Mate

Valentina is mine.

Climax crushes over her, and her moan makes me explode as I bend down to bite her again—gently, this time, and nowhere near the gland.

“Don’t you even think about it.” She grins breathlessly, looking up at me. “I belong to no one.”

My little assassin belongs to herself. Fine.

I’ll let her come to me on her own. I still won’t let her go.

Every muscle tenses before releasing. My arms hold my weight, hovering over her so that I don’t crush Valentina beneath me as I finish enjoying the sensation that ripples through my body.

As soon as I pull out, I leave the bed just long enough to retrieve Mercy, a pistol, and a careful selection of my favorite knives with smaller grips. I set her blade right within her reach on the nightstand, slide one of mine beneath her pillow, and arrange the others around her. After some thought, I place the gun above Mercy.

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing your nest.”

She looks around at the weapons surrounding the bed. “Most omegas use blankets.”

“You are not most omegas.”

She takes another knife from my hand and slips it beneath the other pillow. “Better.”

I pull her against my chest. She leans up on her forearms and stares at me.

Those eyes are wide enough to split me. Especially when they’re two inches from my face.

“My stepfather called you my mate.”

“Yeah, he did.”

“You don’t seem at all surprised by that.”

“I’m not.”

“When did you know, Viktor?”

I think about believing our own lies and different levels of knowing.

“I knew something within the first three steps inside that warehouse apartment of yours. Scent matching doesn’t lie. I refused to put the word on it until your stepfather put it on for me, in front of two hundred people, which is a humiliating way to learn a thing about yourself. It is not every day an alpha gets mated with the woman he was contracted to kill.”

22

VALENTINA

It’s been two fucking days since my mom died in my arms.

Two days that already feel like an eternity. Grief has burned off. All I am left with now is pure, unadulterated rage.

That’s what I keep telling myself. Zero let me have it this morning, but even her anger couldn’t dent mine.