The Lycan Hunter (The Gardinian World Series) (12 page)

She let out a small laugh. “I boarded it just to avoid marrying you.”

A growl sounded behind her. She didn’t know why it seemed
necessary to her, but she began rubbing soothing circles on Kyran
’
s
thigh, the only part she could readily reach without turning around. Why,
she didn’t know, but seeing him that pissed off upset some possessive
part of her.

A disgusted sound came out of Theo, his eyes trailing down to
where her hand was.

“So you’re
fucking
him, too?”

She felt Kyran twitch, but Ronan beat him to the literal punch. He
knocked Theo out with such vicious efficiency that the only evidence of his movement was a loud crack and Theo’s crumpled body on the ground.

“Thanks,” she said as she pulled away from Kyran and eased herself
down to the ground.

The brothers came and knelt in front of her, but Kyran was the one
to reach forward to try and remove the dart.

“Oh god, don
’
t do that,” she hissed, jerking away from his hands.
“It has barbs, and it also contains silver nitrate. It can kill you in sixty seconds tops.”

They both shrunk back and eyed her warily.

“How do I get it out?” Kyran asked.

“Surgery. You’d have to cut the barbs out.”

Ronan
got up and went into the
cabin
on some
unsaid
command from
Kyran. He returned a few minutes later with a blanket to wrap her in.

Kyran motioned over to Theo’s unconscious body.

“Anything special I need to know about him?”

“Theo is more trouble than he
’
s worth, for one thing. He sends texts
as a means to check in, because it
’
s easier. Theo is the type you want to
check in.”

“Why?” they asked in unison.

“He has the highest kill count of all active duty male Hunters. He
’
s
considered high value.”

“Where do you fall on the list?” Ronan asked.

“I’m first among females.”

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you, Hunter?” Kyran said, but an
expression – one of guarded pride – on his face told her that he had
an inkling that the top position went to her.

“The least you could do is use my name, ingrate. I did just get sho
t for you.”

Kyran started to reply when Ronan made a movement to interrupt
him.

“You
haven
’
t been
checkin
g in. Is that why he
’
s here?”
Ronan asked
.

“I go off grid when I hunt. Headquarters wouldn
’
t have sent him.
Theo probably came here after his hunt in hopes of turning my hunt
into a mini vacation of seduction,” she gave a short laugh at the growl
Kyran tried to cover. “He
’
s a little dedicated to his job. Despite having
tried it before, he probably thought hunting a Lycan together would be something to bond over. It’s more annoying than a turn on.”

“So what do we do with him?”

“Nothing,” Alexis said. “You leave us both here, and go back to
your compound. If you give me his phone, I can do his check in for the
night, which will give you plenty of time to get away from here.”

Ronan handed her Theo’s phone. After reading his last few texts, she typed a reply and showed it to Kyran, letting him know that her
message contained no words of betrayal. Besides, only an idiot sent any
form of communication without checking with the one in charge.

“I can't leave you here like this.” Kyran said. “You have a dart in your chest and you’re turning blue.”

“It’s Argyria–silver poisoning. No big deal.”

“Says who? You look like shit.” Kyran said.

“Liver and kidney failure will do that to a girl.”

He cursed and sent Ronan to get the truck before he looked at her
again. “I’m taking you back. I won’t let you die.”

“You might as well let me die now, Kyran. I
’
m as good as dead
anyway.”

“This is the second time you’ve asked me to kill you; leaving you
here to die when I can help is the same as killing you. Why are you so
eager to meet Death?”

“
I don’
t want to die like my brother. Torin
’
s death was...” She left
the sentence incomplete as the words came out like a dramatic exhale.
Blinding pain followed the memories that fought past the mental barriers
she struggled to keep in place.

Alexis leaned into the doorjamb and tried to breathe through the
pain in her chest. The barbs weren
’
t too deep, but they were enough that
ripping it out would do a hell of a lot more damage than just leaving
it in. Argyria was a crappy way to die, but it beat being mauled to death
while your family listened to your screams over the speaker phone.

The l
ast
memory she had of Torin alive was
the
sound of his screams.

The powers that be – namely her parents – thought it was a great teaching tool for her to listen to her brother’s last moments. A not-so-
subtle reminder to toe the line. If she had ever thought her parents
loved her – and she didn
’
t –, that moment showed her where their true
allegiance was, and it wasn
’
t with their children. No, the Hunters and
their cause was everything to her parents, and they would give their own children to prove their dedication.

She heard Kyran saying something to her, but she blocked him out,
focusing instead on the sea of darkness and the reminder of the death
she didn’t want. Her brother’s screams.

KYRAN SPENT THE TRIP BACK
to the compound watching Alexis
sleep. She was right. He could no longer justify marginalizing her behind
the false distance he
’
d created between them. The least he could do was
use her name. Though she saved his life, he didn
’
t feel that he was any
more deserving of her possible death than the next person. However,
considering his likely part in her brother
’
s death, he owed her more than
calling her by name, but repaying her for her loss was impossible.

Kyran followed Ronan into the compound. Theo – still unconscious –
was slung over Ronan
’
s shoulder. The male was going to be shackled
in one of the rooms yet to be renovated.

Thoughts of violence rushed to the forefront of his mind at the
idea that the male wanted to marry Alexis. That part of him – the stupid
primitive part – wanted to claim her as his, but how would that work?
She was a Hunter and, judging by the near constant murmurs from the
pack, she would never be accepted in their ranks.

Kyran opened the door to the infirmary and placed Alexis down on the gurney. He started an IV, but since she had saved his life, he didn’t strap her down.

At the moment, the pack
’
s unrest made removing the dart too risky
. Kyran decided to address them first, hoping that by the time he was done, Ronan would be back from dealing with the male.

He walked into the crowd – mostly males from the former Oconee
pack – and motioned them to follow him into the throne room.

Of all the rooms in the Oconee compound, Kyran hated the throne
room the most. He had yet to focus on dismantling the ostentatiously decorated mess.

The former Oconee Mikko had preferred to make his station known
with expensive and impractical things like a gilded mahogany throne
with gold inlays and jeweled armrests. The thing had a matching desk
with a frilly looking inkwell and quill lying unused on top. The rest of the room was decorated in the same way, useless things to coronate a
male who had no business being in charge of anything.

He leaned against the ugly desk and waited while the pack – those
that dared come into his presence anyway – continued to throw around
words like traitor, fool, and incompetent. Despite his outward appearance
of calm, internally he was a leaking pipeline. One more comment would
be the flame.

“I told you he wasn’t Mikko enough for us.”

The match to his explosion came from the back of the room, from the lips of the male from the pack meeting.

Kyran
’
s eyes changed first. They flashed from ordinary, pale blue
to blue orbs with silver moons at their center. The talking continued, the
gathered pack oblivious to the change in him. At least until he howled.

The power behind his howl forced everyone to shift into their Tala
form. It was a violent but efficient way to prove dominance. Shifting was usually relatively swift and seamless, but a forced change was a
punishment. With the blessing of Ulryk, the God of Kings and Queens,
Alphas could bend the will of those they ruled over.

The only one still standing after the sound of bones breaking and reknitting silenced was Ronan, who had entered the room sometime
in the midst of Kyran howling. He was alpha enough in his own right
to resist the change, but his Rocky training made it possible to resist the
will of the Mikko altogether. To be
respectful
, Ronan shifted forms and
bowed his massive furred head to the floor as he stepped away from the male who was still under Kyran’s hard gaze.

Kyran stalked forward, shifting forms in the process. He was easily
twice the size of a normal wolf. With solid black coat and eyeshine like
silver moons over his pupils, no one would believe he was anything other than supernatural.

As he
inched
forward,
stalking
his prey, the recovering Talas managed
to muster enough strength and good sense to crawl out of his way. The
male who had hurled the final comment, who seemed to have a knack
for opening his mouth when he should leave it closed, tried to follow
suit. Using the power that was his to command as both Alpha and Mikko,
Kyran held him in place with nothing more than his hard stare.

Kyran stopped mere inches from the male and gave him a sharp toothed smile. “And who do you think is Mikko enough?” The voice
that came out of his muzzle was only a slightly rougher version of his
normal voice, punctuated by a trickled growl that lingered at the end of his question.

The male mustered up some semblance of courage and stood tall in Kyran’s presence.

“You bring a Hunter here, among the Harem and the children, and
you want my approval? That bitch,” he growled, “and the male you
returned here with should be put down like the rabid animals they are.”

“Will you defy me to do it?”

The male showed a second of hesitation before he met Kyran
’
s
glowing blue orbs with his own green ones.

“Yes.”

Whimpers from others in the room sounded but were silenced with
the power of Kyran’s growl. Kyran pulled the power that bound the male in place back into himself.

“Then you forfeit your life,” he said.

The male launched himself at Kyran and caught a face full of claw
for his trouble. The momentum sent the male careening into a far wall,
but he bounced back and charged again. Kyran sidestepped him and
caught him in the side with a long drag of his claws. Like a key to a
door panel, he revealed the male
’
s insides. The male
’
s step faltered as
his brown and white fur soaked up his vital fluids.

Kyran, tired of playing defense to a wholly unworthy opponent, t-boned him into the ugly desk with his body, pinning both the male
and the desk to the back wall. He bit down on the male
’
s neck, severing
his spinal cord at the same moment the male’s claws entered his chest
cavity and punctured his lung. He roared through his teeth as he worried
the male’s neck in his grip.

Dropping the dead Tala from his muzzle, he waited for Ronan to
shift back to his human form and gently remove the claws from his chest.

“I might have to open you up,” Ronan said, as he examined the wound.

Injuries caused by other Lycans claws healed slower than wounds from other sources. With every breath he drew, Kyran felt the sluggish
effects of having a lowered oxygen capacity.

“I know. Go get set up. I have to deal with them.”

Ronan helped him to his feet, not that he needed it, before he left him to deal with the still cowering pack members. Kyran focused on the pack, his gaze hard and unforgiving.

“Go, and if I have to make my point again, I won’t wait for a formal
challenge.”