ONE WEEK LATER

I wake in unfamiliar surroundings, finding myself lying on a large bed.

A blanket has been pulled to my chin. The room around me is simple but amply furnished: a bedside table, a large closet, and a bathroom to the side.

I’ve only surveyed the left side of the room when I realize the most alarming thing: I don’t feel any pain. Unexpectedly so.

For the very first time in nearly four years, every part of my body, from my toes to my head, every muscle, and every inch of my skin, is pain-free.

I take a breath of shocked surprise before I discover I’m not alone.

A man with a shaved head and a pushed-around nose sits on a chair at the table positioned on my right. I’m astonished to see that he’s reading a book. A jet-black ring with three chunky rubies set into it catches the light as he snaps the book shut.

“About time,” he grumbles.

“Where the hell am I?” I demand to know, trying to figure out if my arms and legs are functioning.

I seek my beast, finding him a faint murmur at the back of my mind.

A broad smile breaks across the man’s face, but it’s the kind that should make me afraid.

He stands up slowly, rising up… and up…

Holy hell. He must be the tallest, most solidly built guy I’ve ever encountered, and that includes when I’ve looked in the mirror.

“Where the hell is Peyton?” I shove back the blanket and try to get to my feet, but my legs wobble as if I haven’t used them for a while, and I end up embarrassingly on my knees at the side of the bed.

“Take it easy, hellhound,” the man says, his voice calm. “You’re inside the Legion. We thought it best to keep you here while you healed. I’ll let Slade know you’ve regained consciousness.”

My survival instincts kick in, and I lurch to my feet, finding the strength to stumble to the door.

The man doesn’t try to stop me before I enter a corridor and peer through the windows opposite to discover that I’m several levels up in a building that overlooks a courtyard.

In the distance, a structure that resembles a cathedral is surrounded by smaller buildings, some more modern than others.

As I watch, a group of men and women in navy blue clothing jog around the perimeter in disciplined lines, a man at their head shouting orders at them.

This must be the Legion’s Realm, hidden from humans like the Academy was.

“I’m Alexei. Perhaps you’ve heard of me.” The big guy strides past me with another grim smile. He carries a gun in a holster at his waist, but he doesn’t seem worried that I’ll try to take it. “You aren’t a prisoner, but you have choices to make, Striker Draven. Come with me.”

You must choose.

Peyton’s fierce face flashes into my vision, reminding me of the snakes that circled around her as she forced me to take the wand.

I did the only thing I could do with it. What I do with everything.

I destroyed it.

Even now, I remember the way it had disintegrated in the fire I carry within me.

I prowl after Alexei, following him carefully down the stairs and through opulent corridors before we exit the building and begin to cross the courtyard.

“Wait here,” he says, planting a big hand on my chest to stop me in the middle of the courtyard before he strides away from me to disappear into the building that looks like a cathedral.

Within moments, he returns with two other men, both massive, imposing forms, but they, at least, aren’t taller than me.

“I’m Slade Baines,” says the first man. “This is my Legion. You’ve met Alexei Mason, Master of the Dominion.

” He turns to the man with the pushed-around nose, who now stands a step behind him before he gestures to the other man who exited the cathedral.

“This is Cain Carter, Master of the Horde. You won’t remember, but you’ve also met my wife, Hunter Cassidy, and Cain’s wife, Archer Ryan.

They helped take care of you while you healed. ”

My surroundings are clear and open. It feels like the assassins have chosen this spot for that reason. Alexei told me I’m not a prisoner, and it certainly feels like I could turn and walk away, but at the same time… I feel like I can’t.

“Why am I here? Why didn’t Hunter kill me?” I take a step toward Slade, my anger rising. “I was prepared to die.”

Vulture’s daughter, Kaitlyn, had written my name in Hunter Cassidy’s ledger.

Kaitlyn wanted me dead because she was led to believe that I had killed the man she loved—a panther shifter named Jesse.

Jesse was, in fact, trapped in the forest outside the Academy.

I freed him, and then I helped Kaitlyn escape with him.

I don’t know where Kaitlyn is now.

All I know is that once someone’s name is written in an assassin’s ledger, they’re marked for death.

For some reason, I’m still alive.

Slade considers me for a moment. “Peyton didn’t want you killed. And the truth of the matter is that you wouldn’t have been. There was no evidence against you to justify your assassination.”

Fuck . After all the manipulation we suffered because of the threat of the assassins…

But my anger is nowhere near as important to me now than knowing that Peyton is safe. I didn’t expect to be alive. I’ll be damned if I let any harm come to her.

“Where is she?” I ask. “Where is Peyton?”

“Far away from here.” Slade’s response is calm. “She’s safe, Striker. But it’s better if you focus on yourself right now.”

Not a chance. “What about the other students?”

“They’ve chosen to stay at the Academy for now.

The Guardian is helping them negotiate an agreement with the Magical Magnate that will ensure they’re left in peace.

The Magnate has nothing to hold over the Guardian now that we’ve recovered the missing assassin’s rings.

” Slade gives me a grim smile. “Lucinda Adams is determined to rebuild the Academy as a safe house for Unknowns.”

I know enough about how assassinations are brought about to understand that the Guardian is the human who holds the immense power of determining if an assassination is sanctioned.

It doesn’t matter how much someone offers to pay in exchange for a desired death. Every assassination must be justified by evidence, which is what the Guardian decides.

But with every Unknown that Lady Tirelli captured and brought to Bloodwing, she intended to build an army of monsters who would have risen up and fought the assassins and their Guardian.

Now, Slade is telling me that the powerful Guardian is making moves to protect those monsters?

I want to believe him, but I can’t allow myself to feel hope.

I’ve been surrounded by liars for so long that it’s hard for me to believe that anyone tells the truth.

I study Slade carefully, trying to decide if he’s lying to me. “So… the students are okay.”

Slade nods. “You have my word they’re fine, but you, Striker, have a choice to make.”

He doesn’t make a move toward me. All three men are keeping their distance, giving me space, but I feel the weight of Slade’s words in my soul.

“You can leave the Legion and try to make it on your own,” he says. “Or you can accept our help, stay here for a while, train, and learn. You don’t have to leave until you’re ready.”

I’m surprised. “You’re offering me a place here?”

“Not as an assassin. Although I suspect you’d make a good one.” Another grim smile flickers around his mouth before he takes a deep breath. “You would be an associate. A Friend of the Legion, so to speak.”

I remember my final moments at the Academy.

Fighting Hadrix nearly killed me. I had nothing left. The assassins could have left me to die, but instead, they brought me here. Slade himself carried me. I remember a brief moment of being lifted into the air before I lost consciousness.

I have nowhere to go. No home.

The company with my name on it, Draven Industries, is controlled by my stepfather, Oliver. The billion-dollar corporation was my mother’s and would have been mine, except that Oliver had me declared as an Unknown so he could send me to Bloodwing and wrest control away from me.

With him at the head, Draven Industries supplied all of Lady Tirelli’s weapons while she was alive and, after her death, formed an alliance with Hadrix, too.

I fought hard to escape the Academy. I wanted revenge on all those who wronged me. But I thought Peyton would be beside me.

Now, one of the Master Assassins, Slade Baines himself, is offering me a place to stay, and the ancients know I need this, but I don’t trust myself.

The assassins’ mercy can only be their undoing.

I shake my head. “I’m a hellhound. Whatever I touch, I destroy. The White Wand obeyed me, for fuck’s sake. That has to tell you how dangerous I am.” I give another shake of my head, even firmer, more certain this time. “You don’t want me here.”

“Hmm.” Slade’s eyes narrow. “Is that because you think you’re too angry?”

“Yes,” I answer.

A silver glow grows around his silhouette, and the light in his eyes takes on a threatening edge.

I suddenly sense all of the power that he constrains.

Oddly enough, I don’t find it unsettling. In many ways, it’s calming because I know for a fact that if I even look like I’m about to hurt anyone, he’ll stop me.

“Anger is not itself a bad or dangerous thing,” Slade says. “In fact, you may find people in this place who carry more anger than you do. It’s what you do with your anger that tips the scales one way or the other.”

When I don’t interrupt him, he continues. “From what I heard of Bloodwing Academy, you were encouraged to fight and hurt each other. If you stay here, you will learn discipline and control. You will learn when to use your strength and when to step away from a fight.”

His voice becomes a low murmur that reminds me of a beast even more dangerous than mine. “You’ll also learn what you’re fighting for.”

My own beast is suddenly alert, responding to the threat of true violence that these three men could unleash and the astonishing fact that they don’t .

My beast’s voice is a whisper in my mind, still weak, but I know he won’t be for long.

You need this , he says with the same conviction in his tone as when he forced me to face my feelings for Peyton.

I can’t disagree with him.

“I want my life back,” I say to Slade, raw honesty making me vulnerable, but— fuck it —it’s the truth. “I want my company back. I want my stepfather out of my life. I want my family name off weapons that kill innocent people. And I want… fuck …”

I grit my teeth as the three Master Assassins wait for me to finish what I have to say.

“I need Peyton in my life,” I growl, “but on her terms and only by her choice, not mine, because I need to be fucking better than I am.”

Fuck.

Feelings. They make me want to swear my fucking head off.

I glare at the pebbled ground, the motley surface, counting the seconds of silence around me before I make myself look up and pretend I didn’t admit any of that.

Slade gives me a dangerous smile. So do Alexei and Cain, and I suddenly wonder what I’m getting myself into.

Slade tips his chin at me. “Welcome to the Legion.”