The Assassin’s Mistake

Selene was the kingdom's deadliest assassin, known to leave nothing behind but whispered legends and lifeless bodies. She took pride in her efficiency and control—until tonight. Tonight, her target was a mercenary named Dude, whose reputation for fighting skills was matched only by his reputation with women.

She'd watched him from the shadows as he sauntered into the tavern. His careless confidence, his lazy grin, the way every woman's eyes lingered on him—it irritated her. No man should be that arrogant.

Her plan was simple: seduce him, get him alone, then slip her blade between his ribs. Quick and clean.

But as Selene approached him, hips swaying and eyes locked on his, Dude smiled—slow, dangerous, and infuriatingly attractive.

"Looking for trouble?" he drawled.

She smiled sweetly. "I think I already found it."

Minutes later, they were upstairs. Selene expected to be in control, but Dude took her off guard immediately. He pinned her against the wall, his gaze intense.

"You know," he murmured, lips brushing her ear, "I usually get paid before I handle dangerous women."

She shivered, angered by her own reaction. "Maybe tonight I'll handle you."

Dude chuckled softly, a sound that sent a thrill down her spine. "I'd like to see you try."

She reached for the hidden blade at her thigh, but suddenly his hand closed around her wrist. He smiled knowingly.

"Careful now," he whispered, eyes glinting. "You wouldn't want this to end too soon."

Her heart pounded as he traced her jaw with his thumb. She hated him—hated his smugness, his charm, the way her body betrayed her mind. But more than that, she hated that she didn't truly want to kill him.

She didn't know who kissed whom first. But the moment their lips met, all plans dissolved. His touch was fierce, possessive, and intoxicatingly skilled. Her blade clattered forgotten to the floor.

"You're trouble," she gasped as his mouth moved along her neck.

"You started it," he replied huskily, lifting her effortlessly to the bed.

She gave in completely, every nerve igniting beneath his rough hands, his relentless kisses. The assassin in her screamed for control, but the woman—the passionate, aching woman she had long hidden—finally took over.

Their bodies tangled in sheets, each caress stripping away layers of deception and armor, until only raw, naked desire remained.

Hours later, as dawn broke through the window, Selene realized her fatal mistake: she had fallen for the man she was supposed to kill.

She lay tangled against Dude's sleeping form, torn between duty and heart, knowing only one thing for sure:

Her life would never be the same again.