The Queen's Assassin

By Jaymi Hanako

A queen needs a consort and an heir. Not a deadly but gorgeous distraction...

Queen Raine cannot stop thinking about the assassin imprisoned in her dungeon. He's beautiful. He's dangerous.

And he wants her.

Madoc doesn't know she's his target, assuming that she's her bodyguard instead.. Magic keeps her true identity safe from him, and from everyone plotting to take her throne. But not even the most powerful spells in the land can shield her from her emotions. The assassin stirs desires and longings within her that she has not allowed herself to feel for a long time.

Then he makes an offer: spend one night of passion with him, and he'll tell her everything he knows about who hired him to kill her. It's a risk she shouldn't take. She can never trust him. She should kill him.

Yet she can't resist him.

As a shadowy conspiracy threatens Raine's hold on her crown, it will take magic--and the power of her unlikely connection with the assassin--for her to keep what is hers.

(Author's note: This title was previously published. It has been lightly revised from it's previous version.)

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jaymi Hanako
• Release date: Mar 25, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393482369

Jaymi Hanako

Jaymi Hanako writes stories of love and lust in alternate worlds. Her favorite subjects include spaceships, magic, and paranormal creatures.Born and raised in Hawaii, she left paradise when she fell in love with a soldier. After being assigned to different bases throughout the southern United States, they settled in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado where they currently live with their dog and two cats.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The normal sounds of the night changed. The wind and the crickets stopped. A sharp whinny shattered the silence along with the low thunder of hooves. Heading out of the camp instead of into it. Loud cursing ensued as the servants rushed after the horses.

How odd.

Silence reclaimed the night, only to be broken by the faint rhythm of stealthy footsteps, followed by the tearing of fabric. There was the brief flash of a blade, and a large slit opened up in the tent wall, close to the queen’s bed.

Two shadowy figures forced their way into the shelter.

Assassins.

Raine Jaromil, Queen of Isciana, silently rose from her pallet on the opposite side of the shelter and unsheathed her sword. Flickering candlelight reflected off metal as one of the men raised a dagger.

Her body double lay directly beneath the blade. Unmoving. Asleep.

The intruders had their backs to Raine. She raced across the tent and attacked the man closest to the bed, thrusting her sword through his back and straight into his heart.

A brief gurgling sound announced his death. He had no time to cry out. Raine pulled the weapon free, and he dropped like a stone. The sharp smell of blood filled the air.

The second man whirled at Raine, sword drawn.

She barely parried his first blow. He followed with a second. Quicker. Stronger. Each strike sent tremors radiating up from her sword to her hands to her arm.

She expected her bodyguard to rise from the bed and take the man from behind. But there was nothing. No hint of movement.

Raine couldn’t call for her aid. Not directly. Even in this moment, she had to remember who she was pretending to be. Your Majesty? Are you all right?

No response. The other woman was normally a light sleeper and should have shown some signs of stirring by now. Had the second assassin managed to get to her while Raine was busy dispatching his companion?

There was no time to dwell on that now. She needed to focus.

Her attacker slashed at her face. Her arm. He had her completely on the defensive, unable to strike at him in turn.

Damn, he’s good. The darkness worked in his favor. He was dressed for it—all in black, with a hood and mask obscuring his face and hair. Only a handful of small candles lit the interior of the tent, making the assassin seem like a part of the night.

But the lack of light could become her advantage too. The location of every single piece of luggage and furniture within the shelter was mapped inside her head. Raine feinted, sidestepping around a large clothing trunk at the last possible moment.

Her pursuer smashed into it with a loud thump and a muffled curse. He went down.

Raine pounced, stepping on his wrist to pin his sword arm to the ground. She pressed the tip of her blade to his throat. Do you yield?

He let out a snort that sounded suspiciously close to a laugh. Never.

He caught Raine by the ankle and tugged. She tumbled back, her head striking the ground hard enough to make her see sparks. She lost hold of her sword. It clattered somewhere to her right—she couldn’t be sure where.

Sloppy. Too damned sloppy. But it had been years since she’d been in anything close to a real fight.

No excuses. Think. Raine rolled onto all fours, crawling in the direction she thought she’d heard her weapon fall.

A heavy weight slammed into her from behind, flattening her to the ground. The assassin grabbed her braided hair and forced her head back. Cold steel pressed against her throat.

He seemed to be sitting on her hips to keep her pinned. His hot breath puffed against her ear. Despite the fight, he wasn’t even breathing hard. Well, this has been fun, but I— He broke off on a sharp inhale and let out another string of colorful curses.

She recognized some of them from her time in the North. He was from the steppes. Probably one of the nomadic tribes. Interesting. It explained his skill with a sword.

His weight lifted from her hips. He shifted to one side, his knee pressed against the outside of her thigh. He slipped his hand from her hair to the front of her body. Skimming over her bound breasts to her waist and pelvis. Searching.

Raine always dressed to hide her sex while in this role, but didn’t think her disguise was that effective. What’s wrong, assassin? Didn’t think a woman could fight?

He didn’t reply but did not take his hand away either. His breathing changed, and his blade no longer pressed quite so firmly against her skin.

A tiny opening.

Raine jerked her elbow back, slamming it into his side. His sharp cry confirmed impact and gave her a better idea of his location.

She snapped her head back. Another impact: the top of her head against something hard and bony. She rolled away. Found her sword and scrambled to her feet.

Turned to look at the assassin. He was trying to stand, though he didn’t look completely steady. She’d managed to stun him a little.

But not enough. He lunged.

Raine jumped back, and again steel met steel. Instead of the quick attacks of earlier, he swung more force into each blow. Trying to beat her by strength rather than speed.

She was outmatched either way. There was no one to help her. Her body double was most likely dead or unconscious. There was no indication that the servants had returned from chasing after the runaway horses. Raine had taken the risk of traveling with only the domestic workers and not any additional guards, to keep her party as small and inconspicuous as possible and avoid the notice of both bandits and political enemies. Until tonight, the gamble had seemed to work.

She had only one option left: magic.

Raine had been forced to abandon her training in those arts more than six years ago due to family obligations and had forgotten much of what she’d learned. But she did remember one of the most basic skills. The first lesson taught to her all those years ago.

She retreated slightly, opening up the space between her and her attacker. She pointed her sword at the assassin to keep his focus on her weapon as she raised her other hand, facing her palm in his direction. Sweat beaded on Raine’s brow as she concentrated her power. Don’t move.

He froze midstep. Then slowly toppled forward, landing face-first near her feet.

She scaled the magic back. His fingers unlocked just enough to let her pry the hilt out of his grasp. She tossed his weapon aside.

How did you—

Raine turned in the direction of the voice. Alvena, Raine’s double, stood beside her bed. Watching them.

It was about time. Alvena looked bright, alert, and perfectly healthy. There was no reason she should not have been able to come to Raine’s aid earlier. It was almost as if she’d wanted the assassins to succeed.

No. This attack had clearly rattled Raine and made her paranoid. Her bodyguard had served her loyally for years, and this was the first failure. Still, there were many questions she intended to ask when they no longer had an audience.

Three servants rushed into the tent. Your Majesty! Someone deliberately loosed the horses.

Raine waited for Alvena to say something appropriate to her role, but the other woman remained silent. Raine sighed. "These two wanted to