I don't own anything. All rights go to their rightful owners. This was a collaboration written by Evie Frye and xMeganful.

Towering walls surround me, Blighters lining the halls with crimson jackets. I feel the nervous hand of Henry Green's ally sweatily grasping my wrist, holding me in a false attempt at a kidnapping. I can only hope this works, I think in apprehension. We walk up the stairs, taunts being thrown my way as I force myself to remain at ease. Deeper inside the Tower of London, the voice of Lucy Thorne travels through the building, barking orders at Templar lackeys.

"I found her wandering inside the walls, ma'am. Thought you'd want to speak with her." her dark eyes settle upon mine, approaching me in a slow walk, her chin held high with pride.

Her lips curl in amusement as she speaks, "Welcome, Miss Frye. Do you care to tell me where the Shroud is?" I remain silent, my ally releasing his grip on me. "As you wish. I shall find it without your help. And then, I'll strangle you with it." she calls to the guard beside her, "Watch her closely." the Templar leader turns her back, allowing me the opportunity I needed.

Now or never, Evie.

I flex my arm and drive my hidden blade into the neck of the Templar nearest to me, blood spilling onto my wrist as I cut the throat of another. As if anticipating my movements, Thorne grabs a nearby object from the desk before her, swinging it towards me. Taking the sword from her belt, I dodge, twisting her arm and touching her own blade to the back of her neck.

But I hesitate.

I've never hesitated before; not even during my blooding did I take a moment to humanize my target. What was it about Lucy Thorne that made me hesitate? The very same woman who had threatened to strangle me with a sacred artifact the moment before?

"Well?" a strangled cry emits from her lips, clearing her throat when she realizes the emotion she shows. "Do it. Kill me already. Or are you too cowardly, Miss Frye? Can't you kill your sworn enemy?" she casts a sideward glance at me, her eyes fearful, though something else was brewing within them. Something lustful.

Easing the blade from her neck, she releases a frustrated growl, "What are you doing, Assassin?" I pull her towards me, ignoring her taunts and threats, for her eyes are my only focus. By the collar of her shirt, I force her lips onto mine. Her tongue quickly fights for dominance, my mouth becoming hers as I shove her against a pillar of the old building. With my ally gone, we are alone.

My hands run along the dark material of her clothes, groping her breasts roughly before traveling south. Without consideration, I yank at the clothing preventing me from reaching her core.

"You wanted me to talk, Miss Thorne." I murmur, our faces close as my fingers touch her warmth. "Then I shall tell you this, and only once shall I say it, so listen closely." the pads of my fingers work at the centre of her womanhood, rubbing the flesh in small regular circles. "I can offer you sanction under the Assassins, so long as you end your Templar ways." extending my hidden blade, I press it to her throat. "Should you decide to refuse..." she raises her chin with the sharp end, a grin forming on her lips.

"Very well, Miss Frye. If having your way with me is what you desire, then go ahead." I withdraw my Assassin weaponry from her skin, forcing her head sideways as I capture the base of her neck in my mouth. Groaning, I begin to ease a finger inside of her, the attempts to hide her moans of pleasure from me becoming futile. "But I refuse to leave the Templars."

My movements halt, the woman's teeth gritted as she hisses in aggravation. Eyes touching, growling through my own lust, I pin her wrists above her head, "I will not help a Templar." I gather myself as I walk away, desire burning within me depths. A lone voice, desperate and pleading, catches my attention.

"Wait, Assassin!" she barks, her appearance disheveled and her lips puffy when I face her again, "You cannot just - leave - without finishing what you started!" her tone is stressed and angered, my lips quickly silencing her taunting words. I hastily find her womanhood once again, pushing my calloused fingers roughly against her as she gasps into my mouth, my tongue fighting for her submission. She does not give in easily.

When the Templar begins moaning into me, her breathing ragged and her chest rising at an uneven pace, I lower my mouth to her neck, the skin sensitive and already turning dark as I reclaim her.

Leaning into her ear, my voice raspy, I mutter, "Come for me, Lucy." a matter of moments passes before she comes undone at my touch, whimpering my name and grabbing for me as she looses herself in her pleasure.

It takes every ounce of self-control within me to peel myself from the woman, my arousal beginning to cloud my thoughts.

I cannot let my guard down in a building filled to the brim with Royal Guards and Templars, I chastise myself, what will Jacob say when he hears of this? What would Father say?

Pressing my lips to the woman a final time, I decide I must make a decision.