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MY ASSASSIN IS MY MATE Novel Cover

MY ASSASSIN IS MY MATE

On the night of her biggest contract, Nia is hired to take out Knight Golden. The intel says he’s a corrupt CEO tied to supernatural trafficking. Easy money. But when her blade touches his skin, something inside her snaps — the bond ignites. Her wolf recognizes him. Knight, wounded but alert, catches her scent and instantly knows the truth: his mate just tried to kill him. Now both hunter and prey are tangled in a web of betrayal, desire, and fate.
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Chapter 2

NIA

I wake to the sound of rain again.For one dizzy heartbeat, I think I’m still on that rooftop, the storm gnawing at the city, my knife in my hand and my target at my mercy. Then I smell the familiar scent and my stomach sinks.

No.

I know that smell.

I pry my eyes open. The ceiling is high. The sheets beneath me are soft, expensive, and definitely not mine. When I shift, pain claws through my ribs and arm. Bandages pull tight across my skin.

The air hums with warmth. I push myself up, fighting the dizziness. The room comes into focus: glass walls, city lights, the steady beat of rain against the windows. I recognize it instantly.

Knight Golden’s penthouse.

The same room I’d broken into a few hours ago. The same man I’d almost killed.

A rough laugh echoes from the doorway. “Two visits in one night, Silent Blade. I must’ve hit the jackpot.”

My head snaps toward the sound. He’s leaning against the frame, casual as sin, a mug of coffee in his hand, shirt hanging loose, sleeves rolled. His golden eyes gleam with amusement.

I glare at him. “Where are my weapons?”

He takes a slow sip. “Confiscated. You don’t need them while you’re bleeding on my sheets.”

“I heal fast.”

“Not fast enough. You lost a lot of blood.” He nods toward my arm. “Silver-dust rounds. Nasty stuff. Had to dig them out myself.”

My stomach twists. “You touched me?”

“I saved you.” He smirks. “You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask you to.”

“Yeah, but dying wasn’t exactly a better look on you.”

His tone is pure infuriation—light, amused, like this is all a game. I swing my legs off the bed, ignoring the pain. “I’m leaving.”

He sets the mug down. “You sure about that? You stand up too fast, you’ll hit the floor again. And if you break my floor, I’ll have to bill you.”

“I’ll add it to your death invoice.”

When I try to rise, the room tilts violently. My knees buckle. He’s there before I hit the floor, his arms around me, solid and too warm. The bond slams between us—heat, electricity, heartbeats syncing for one impossible second.

I shove him back with what little strength I have. “Don’t touch me.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender. “You keep saying that, yet you keep falling into my arms. Starting to think it’s a habit.”

“Starting to think you have a death wish.”

He grins, unbothered. “Not really. I just enjoy good company.”

“Company implies consent,” I snap. “I didn’t ask to be here.”

“Would you rather be dead?”

The question hangs heavy in the air. My wolf goes still. I hate that he’s right.

I glance at my bandages, then at the shattered remnants of my clothes folded neatly on a chair. He’d seen too much already.

“Who sent you?” he asks quietly.

I look away. “You already know I won’t answer that.”

“Humor me.”

“Someone rich. Someone scared of you.”

He chuckles softly. “aah same answer as before."

I say nothing. The silence stretches. My pulse won’t settle.

He crosses the room and sits across from me, elbows on his knees, eyes searching mine. “You realize whoever hired you also sent those mercs. They didn’t come for me—they came for both of us.”

I frown. “You’re sure?”

“I saw their gear. Silver rounds, Wolfsbane injectors. You were meant to disappear as cleanly as I was.” He tilts his head. “Guess someone doesn’t like fate playing matchmaker.”

“Fate doesn’t exist,” I mutter.

“Tell that to my throat.” He brushes his neck where my blade had cut him. The wound is gone, only a faint scar left behind. “You marked me before you even knew it.”

“Don’t read into it.”

“Oh, I’m reading everything.” His smile is infuriating. “I tend to pay attention when a beautiful woman breaks into my home, tries to kill me, and then passes out a street from my home.”

I grab the nearest pillow and throw it at him. It bounces off his chest. He catches it midair and smirks. “Feisty.”

“You’re lucky I’m too injured to stab you properly.”

“You’re lucky I like a woman with a temper.”

I groan and drag a hand through my hair. “You talk too much.”

“Only when I’m nervous.”

I blink. “You? Nervous?”

“Having my mate under my roof, armed, angry, and gorgeous? Yeah. Little bit.” He leans forward. “You’re shaking, by the way.”

I glance down. My hands are trembling. The bond—it’s pulsing again, dragging heat through my veins. I curl my fingers into fists. “It’s adrenaline.”

“Sure,” he says, and the sarcasm makes me want to punch him.

When I try to stand again, the dizziness returns. He catches me—again—and this time I can feel his breath near my ear. The world narrows to that point of contact, the scent of him, the steady rhythm of his heart.

The bond hums, a silent command in my blood:mine.

I shove him back harder. “I said don’t touch me.”

He sighs. “You keep saying that like I want to.”

“Then stop.”

“Can’t. The bond’s a bitch like that.”

My wolf growls softly. I hate that she agrees.

Knight straightens, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “You’re in over your head, Nia.”

My name on his tongue makes me freeze. “How do you—”

“You talk in your sleep.” His lips curve. “Kept muttering about blades and betrayal. Charming bedtime stories.”

I want the floor to swallow me. “You should’ve let me die.”

He steps closer, serious now. “No. I shouldn’t have. Because whoever sent you… they’ll send others. And next time, you won’t be the one bleeding.”

I glare at him. “You think I need your protection?”

“I think we both need answers.” He studies me for a long moment. “So here’s a deal: you stay until we figure out who’s trying to kill us. Then you can go back to pretending you hate me.”

I hesitate. My instincts scream to refuse. My wolf hums with interest.

“Not interested,” I say finally.

“Lie better,” he murmurs, amused.

He moves toward the door. “Get some rest, Silent Blade. Wouldn’t want my mate dying before breakfast.”

I open my mouth to tell him exactly where to shove that grin, but he’s already gone.

I sit there for a long time, staring at the rain bleeding down the glass. The city looks small from here. Powerless. I touch the bandage on my arm, the faint echo of the bond still burning under my skin.

Two nights in one night. I should’ve known fate had a cruel sense of humor.

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