Icicles and Ironies

Thrice headed, thrice fanged,
Punisher eyes weighed clever.
Whilst regal duties ye divide,
Awash moonlit fur, misery lies.

‘Tis howling bane, thy veiled misdeed,
Fever stalks ye grandest creed.
Crimson death shall be delivered,
Creep of shivers, screams be hither.

The few who know me whisper my name, “Caspian.”
I’m the best kept secret of the King of Elves. King Traevon’s darkest assassin, and I do my duty well for the elven crown. My daggers, I caress like a lover, and, my profession, I hide like a shadow.
…until a savage shifter comes knocking.

I, Bishop Marzel, have an issue.
A pointy-eared, tricky issue.
I’ve come to spy on my enemy’s kingdom, but what I find is much more damning—and stirs the beast inside. Even more vexing and infuriating, my target’s not what he pretends to be.
A soft but firm hand is needed for this elf.
…if the Fae don’t find us first.

Our names are Caspian and Bishop. We are the men no one sees coming, the lethal and bloody blades behind kings’ wishes. The executioners who ruthlessly hunt our prey. When we have a problem with the Fae, it’s best to run in the opposite direction—and run fast.

*M/M readers can enjoy this book as a standalone with only slight confusion, and Trixie Towers fans will learn a lot.