The Lycan Hunter (The Gardinian World Series) (4 page)

Theo
’
s eyes danced with amusement. “Relax, Lexi, everything isn
’
t
about you. There is a report of a rogue Shiriki about thirty miles south
of your Tala. The Council told me to leave with you.”

The Shiriki were relatively tame compared to the other Lycans,
but the coyotes could still do some pretty heinous work when the mood
suited them. Apparently it had, because Theo was being sent in for the
kill. Ranked number one among the males, Theo’s kill count just two
shy of the sixty-five her brother had managed to accumulate before his
death. The fact that the council was sending him meant that the risk for exposure was high, and he excelled at the business of killing.

She nodded and settled for flipping open her file, anything to avoid
meeting his gaze. Theo laughed and turned his attention to his own
folder. He could be accused of many things, but she couldn’t call him a slouch when it came to being a Hunter.

Never in his ten years as a Hunter had he gotten as much as a
scratch. Nor had he gone off the grid, which was something that she
preferred. Not being able to locate her drove those in the command
center insane, probably due more to their desire to know the second she was dead than out of any concern for her well-being.

In spite of their indifference to her safety, once she settled into her
kill zone, Alexis turned off her phone thus disconnecting the GPS. She
liked to hunt alone, and nothing said alone like not having a way to
call for backup. Though that wasn’t entirely true.

Every Hunter was equipped with a GPS tracker that was only
activated when two halves were pressed together. Alexis
’
was a jeweled
medallion that hung from the small hoops in her ears. If pressed, it would send a GPS location to the command center for the purpose of
body retrieval. Those with a morbid sense of humor called it a Hunter
’
s
Last Call.

How the researchers managed to get the intel on Lycans was always
a mystery, but she was grateful for the help it gave her. She stared at the
picture of a
sandy-haired
man who was all angular features. Attractiveness
ran rampant in unnecessarily large doses among all Lycans, and he was no exception. If he were human, he would be beautiful, because
handsome just didn
’
t encompass the magnitude that his presence held.

The world without his enchanting good looks would be both sadder
and safer. Mr. Joey No-last-name’s magnetic grey eyes couldn’t hide the unapologetic murderer that had a grip on his soul.

He had a thing for brutality, but the only ones who seemed to skirt
around it and die a relatively quick death were men. Women suffered
his wrath with such disturbing cruelty that Alexis had no need to shuffle
through the photos of what he left behind. Those images had been
seared into her soul, the possession so deep that not even the holiest of exorcisms would tear it from her.

A shrink could take years to discover the whys of his brutality.
Unfortunately, her prescription pad only doled out silver ammo.

KYRAN LOOKED OUT OVER
the submissive poses of his newly
formed Harem, the
singl
e female
Tala
s that were the protected members
of the pack. Many of them submitted willingly, if not gratefully, to their
new lives, preferring it to the one where they lived as soldiers.

Alpha females typically left patriarchal packs after their first shift
to find favorable conditions within a matriarchal pack where their
dominance would be appreciated and utilized. The same was true of Alpha males born into matriarchal packs.

The former Mikko had been trying to break with the old ways of
patriarchal hierarchy by allowing the Omega females into combat.
Conceptually, the Oconee Mikko
’
s goals were to be admired, but poor
execution and lack of battle ready Alpha females doomed the Mikko
’
s
plans to failure. After rejecting Kyran’s challenge for leadership, the
now dead Mikko had chosen to engage in all-out war, thinking his
greater numbers would gain him a victory.

Unfortunately, the very females he
’
d counted as soldiers approached
combat with a dispassionate air that distracted their male pack mates.
For that reason, Kyran was able to take over the Oconee pack with a much smaller group of soldiers.

A few females had given a good fight, and he hated to lose them
to the confines of the Harem. However, he couldn
’
t risk their safety to
possible challenges that they would face against the more dominant
males of the pack. Dominance fights generally weren
’
t to the death,
with the exception of leadership challenges, but a critically maimed
warrior was an intolerable weakness to the pack.

The pack was gathered at the outside meeting grounds, an area in
the middle of the Chattahoochee National Forest. All the seating looked
natural, as a means to keep humans who may stumble through the area
from paying too close attention.

In the claw cleared circle, one rough, wind and rain carved boulder
served as the seat for the Mikko, the chieftain. A series of fallen trees,
carved by the claws of the omegas, served as benches for the pack
’
s
warriors.

Kyran turned his attention to the pack. “Where is Ronan?”

It
had taken
him six months from the initial takeover of Oconee Pack
to eliminate those loyal to the now dead Mikko. In those six months,
Kyran had focused on pack restructuring and answering various
challenges for leadership. From the looks of it, he had one more Tala to
force into
compliance
. Even if it was his
Tepinok
, his
second-in-command
.

“Does anybody know where Ronan is?”

“I’m right here.”

Ronan was tall with broad shoulders and lean muscles that lined his
exposed forearms. He walked with an arrogant swagger that contradicted
the boring, muddy water color of his long straight hair and eyes the
color of dead leaves set in tanned skin.

Kyran forced himself to unclench his jaw. If he ground any harder
, his molars would cease to exist. “You’re late.”

Ronan faced him and kneeled, offering his neck in submission.

“There is a valid reason, Mikko. I will explain after the meeting.”

Kyran nodded and motioned his brother to his seat at the right of
the throne. He returned his attention to the rest of the pack. “Now, where
were we?”

 Shayla, one of the females capable of combat, stood and faced him.
“The movements, or lack thereof, regarding the local Hunter, Mikko.”

Kyran gave a curt nod to the silver-blonde female. She returned
it and retreated back into the fold of the Harem.

As the daughter of the former Mikko, Shayla didn
’
t belong among
the Harem
’
s rank. Though she wasn
’
t an Alpha female, Shayla was a
fighter, trained and formidable in her own right, but in a patriarchal pack, females were for mating, not fighting. He didn’t agree with the
edict, but nonetheless, the Harem was the safest place for her and those
like her.

Kyran steepled his hands. Starting over with a new Hunter wasn
’
t
g
oing to be easy. It had taken him nearly three months just to get Torin,
the local Hunter, to understand that not all Lycans were raging beasts
in need of bullet therapy. His end goal had been to partner with the
Hunters to eliminate rogues, who not only threatened humans but
also the secrecy of all Lycans.

After breaking the males into six two-person teams, he explained
the purpose was only to locate the Hunter. He also stated that they
were not to engage the Hunter. While Torin had been willing to speak
with him, it was unlikely he would take
kindly
to a sudden replacement.

“One last piece of business. There have been reports of a rogue
northwest of Suches.” He paused as a ripple of growls greeted this
news. “The name Joey is being floated around, and it could be why
our Hunter is missing. The rogue is attracting too much attention, but
we’ll find the Hunter first and then hunt the rogue as a pack.”

He waved the males away before he turned his attention to the
reserved poses of the Harem. He dismissed them, with the exception of Shayla, to return to the zenana, a portion of the pack’s safe house where the Harem was secluded.

His protective gaze followed them even though they didn
’
t have far
to go. The entrance to the house was hidden deep within a long unused
cave that led into a home carved from the inside of the mountain.

The mountain, carved out ages ago by some other long dead pack,
served as a way that the Talas could live together without attracting
the attention of local humans. The last thing any Lycan needed was to
be thought of as a weird cult. Humans tended to pay too much attention
to all things strange.

When the Harem was safely away, Kyran turned and led the way
to the Passing platform, where the former Mikko of the Oconee pack had been laid to rest. He stopped in front of it and watched as Shayla
approached with gentle curves and a melodic swaying of her hips,
reminding him that she was utterly feminine despite her combat prowess.

“You don’t approve of being a part of the Harem, do you?”

“My position in the pack is neither for me to agree or disagree with.
That is for you and you alone to determine, Mikko.” She gave him a
small, innocent smile.

“A pretty answer that doesn
’
t tell me shit. I want the truth, not
some fluffy answer that sounds right.” He crossed his arms over his chest and eyed Shayla.

“I don’t understand.”

Kyran silenced an irritated growl. “Shayla, the type of pack that
your father ran allowed you to do things you can’t do now. Since my appropriation of your pack, you appear to be one of the few females who doesn’t relish her newfound role of the Harem. Why?”

“Would you find your life well-spent if you were relegated to be
nothing more than a factory for children?” Her voice was soft, but the
disdain seeped over her words.

“Females are to be protected.”

“I was doing just fine before you came along, but that isn
’
t my
biggest issue.”

“What is your issue then?”

“They call me a difficult beauty,” she said.

A glower lanced his features. “A what?”

“I belong to neither the Harem nor the warriors. I am not male
enough to be a warrior nor am I feminine enough for the Harem. I’m
not interested in the mundane things that the Harem women concern
themselves with. The other females say my interests are too boyish and
so the males will not see me as a female, a mother to his child. It shouldn
’
t
matter what they think, but it does. It just does.” She let her head hang,
the air of defeat surrounding her.

All Lycans were blessed by Narn with unearthly beauty, which was
why beauty to a Lycan was noticed but often disregarded.

She curled in on herself under his gaze. Nothing was problematic
about her beauty; she was old Hollywood timeless. Nothing about her
screamed difficult – not the gentle curves of her body or the sparkling
blue eyes that danced under the tree-filtered sun, or even the soft curve
of her lips. She was a female who was capable of taking care of herself.
That was one of the biggest factors drawing him to her. If only he Saw
her soul.

Even without Seeing her soul – a phenomenon marked by a full
body glow announcing the person as the perfect mate for a Lycan
’s soul
–,
Kyran craved her like the hunt on a full moon. He hated the way she
caved into herself. She was closed off and submissive, despite her ability
to behave and exist in the opposite manner.

“Stop that.” His command was short, too testy for what he was
trying to accomplish.

“What am I doing?”

“You are not the submissive type, and this isn
’
t a dominance test,
so stop making yourself small for me.”

She
slowly
unwound her arms and let them hang like willow branches
at her side. The submissive act faded to the edges of her presence.