Rising From Ashes: The Assassin Bride's Comeback

a P

ns of the Burke estate with the silence and speed of a predator, my assassin's train

g my muscles scream in protest. I needed a sanctuary, a place

e hope. A place from her deep past. An old, forgotten manor left to her by her mother, located o

that helped clear my head. I got my bearings from the stars, a skill

at his guards. Dahlia would be weaving a tale of my insanity, painting me as a jealous, hysterical shre

property. The iron gate was rusted shut, chained and padlocked. But Anja's memory supplied a secret. Her mo

the cold, damp stones. I found it. The stone shifted, reve

ith the smell of damp earth and decay

methin

ery scent on

replaced by a surge of pure adrenaline. My

e moonlit sky. The front door groaned open under my touch. Dust

rail of blood. It led from the doorway to the far side of the main hal

n, my hand closing around a heavy, iron fire poker leaning

d the shadows, my steps complete

wn. His dark clothes were torn and stained, and a large, dark patch was sp

y with the tip of the f

in, but even in the dim light, I could see he was handsome. Sharp cheekbones, a st

med into me. My knees buckled. The fire poker clattered to the floor. I col

water. Co

another image: an old

agony. The need for cold was a primal, all-consuming urge. I managed

ing it soak into the heavy, tattered satin of my wedding dress. It didn't exti

k into the house, shivering

open. They were sharp, intelligent, and filled with a cold, wary light. An eagle's eyes.

a man bleeding out from a mortal wound. Two cornered animals, trapped