The Lycan Hunter (The Gardinian World Series) (10 page)

“Mikkoyi,” she said, nodding to Erma. “Mikko,” she said, giving
Kyran a slight bow. Ronan she acknowledged with nothing more than
a nod since they shared the same rank.

Erma looked at her sons expectantly. “So what do you think?”

“She looks like a fighter, which is good, but I don
’
t want her,” Kyran
replied. Turning to Marcela, he said, “No offense to you, but I’m not exactly interested in my parents type of arrangement.”

Marcela glanced away from Ronan to smile at him. “None taken.”

Kyran cursed himself. He wanted an Aatiki, a wife, but the person
catching his attention was someone he needed to keep his hands away
from.

He looked at Ronan only to find him staring at the female. Marcela
was likewise engaged, making Kyran a little uncomfortable in his
own room.

“Ronan?”

He slowly turned his head away from her. “Yeah?”

“What do you think?”

Ronan turned back to face Marcela and smiled. “If it wasn
’
t for your
desire to remain a Tepinok, I would welcome it. But I’m not my father
. When I mate, my mate and any children we have will be with me.”

Kyran blinked for a minute before he could come up with the words
he needed.

“You’d do what?”

Ronan kept his eyes on the female. “I know. Just one look and I’m
screwed. I thought your situation was crazy, but…”

Erma and Marcela looked at each other and shrugged, obviously unaware of Kyran’s situation with the Hunter.

Kyran laughed. “Mine is still crazier, but I still don’t understand. What happened?”

“I See her.”

“As in Soul See?”

“Yeah. She’s purple. Deep fucking purple.”

Seeing another
’
s soul was akin to humans feeling love at first sight.
Unlike with humans, Soul Seeing was a bigger deal. Once a Lycan
found their Soul
’
s Mate, they were never the same. They hungered for
their mate on a visceral level and became pretty damn agitated when anything stood between them and their Soul’s desire.

He was mildly jealous as his gaze flashed between Ronan and
Marcela. His brother was getting what Kyran could only hope for. Of
course he wished his brother all the happiness that came with finding
his mate. A desperate longing etched itself along the halls of his heart
for all the things he had long denied himself and all the things he
knew wouldn
’
t likely come his way. Unfortunately, his happiness was
wrapped up in the one thing all Lycans feared and hated.

“I can See her, Kyran, and it’s scary as shit.”

Marcela walked over and stood in front of Ronan, indignation
written in her very existence. “What do you mean it’s scary?”

“Your Soul isn
’
t scary,” he laughed. “That
’
s not what I meant. Being
able to See it, however, is.”

“I don’t get why Seeing my soul is scary.”

“Because you don’t see mine,” Ronan said.

For some reason, Ronan’s voice sounded sad, even lonely.

Ronan had always claimed that Rockys tended to marry other
Rockys, because the only ones that would truly understand the life of
Rocky was someone who had also spoken the oaths. With that said,
Ronan had never made much of an effort to find his mate among the
Tala Rockys. He claimed – for the time being – that he was glad he hadn't
found her, that he didn’t need the hassle at this point in his life.

If Ronan saw her soul, but she didn
’
t see his, Ronan would be left
pining for a female whose soul had no desire for him. Lopsided bonds happened
, but they were rare.

Kyran could think of better things to happen to a Lycan. Like death
or a life filled with torture. Both were more appealing options than a life spent wanting.

“Why so
blue,
Ronan?” she asked as she smiled and knelt in front of him. “Who said I can’t See you?”

Kyran smiled as his brother seemed to expand from his former
deflated appearance. A light danced in his eyes, but it faded as quickly
as it appeared.

“Wait, it doesn
’
t even mean anything. I have no intention of
repeatin
g
Arik’s choices, and I’m not going back to being a second class –”

She placed an index finger over his lips, cutting him off.

“I’m not asking you to. More importantly, you’re trying to solve
way too much right now.” She pulled a stiff cream colored card out of
her form fitting jeans. “Give me a call later.”

“Maybe,” Ronan said with a smile.

Marcela used the armrests of his chair to push to her feet. She
kissed his semi-exposed throat, a move that could be taken as a mark of dominance or one of affection.

“I wasn’t asking.”

Ronan launched from the chair, tackling the female.

Kyran jumped from his seat, prepared to separate his brother when
a feminine moan followed by a throaty laugh came from the tangle
of limbs on the floor.

“First, get off my floor doing whatever you
’
re doing. Second, Ronan,
I thought you were about to repeat your history with female Tepinoks.”

Erma, who had been sitting quietly, laughed. “I didn’t.”

Ronan sat up and pulled Marcela onto his lap. “Relax, Kyran. There
’
s
more than one way to prove dominance.”

Kyran snorted. He knew that, but with his brother’s track record of fighting first and all other options last, he figured Ronan didn’t.

Turning to his mother, he said, “Whatever comes of that,” he motioned
to Ronan and Marcela, “is a separate issue from our alliance. If you need
us, we’ll be there.”

“Thank you.” Erma rose from
her
seat
and went to the door. “
Marcela
, are you planning to test the limits of your chastity tonight or are you coming with me?”

Ronan whispered something in the red faced female
’
s ear, causing
her to brighten even more.

“I’m going with you, Mikkoyi.”

When they were gone, Kyran sat down and watched his brother.
His demeanor could only be described as wistful. The fact that Ronan
could even be wistful was unnerving to know about, let alone experience
firsthand.

“I’m in trouble, Kyran.”

Kyran laughed. “And it only took ten minutes.”

Ronan raked his hands through his hair. “Ten minutes? Really?”

“Yeah.” He clapped his brother on his shoulder. “Sucks to be you.”

“Not really.”

“Why’s that?”

“My weakness is a Tala. Yours, well yeah…”

Kyran glanced over at the monitor and the seemingly asleep Hunter
.
Ronan was right. His weakness was reduced to a quantifiable and
certifiable ‘well yeah.’

For all of his brilliant ideas regarding ending the war between the Lycans and Hunters, he had managed to only complicate his own life
by stumbling across the one woman on the planet that he couldn
’
t have.

“I need you to go with me.”

“Go where?”

Kyran pointed to the screen. “To check on her.”

“Why?”

“So I won’t do something stupid.”

Ronan let out a muffled chuckle. “Alright.”

Kyran stretched his tense shoulders. His body was on edge, and it would take very little to tip the scales. Violence was something he
tended to avoid, usually using meditation or prayer as a way to stymie
the tension.

However, on the rare occasions when he was pushed too hard, Kyran
went into a berserker mode and very few people could bring him out of
it. Ronan was the only person still living that would be able to do it.

“Hey, Kyran, you ready?”

Still lost in his thoughts, Kyran nodded and followed Ronan out of his room.

WHEN THEY STEPPED
into the Hunter
’
s room, Kyran froze, slammed
into place by his other method of relieving tension.

Following Arik
’
s Ardethen, Kyran had found himself constantly on
the edge in his new role as Mikko. One day, after breaking a few too
many noses, arms, and one jaw, he found himself in the bed of a human
woman. He didn
’
t know exactly how he got there, but one woman didn
’
t
cut it. By the end of the night, he had a bevy of female bodies around him, all blissfully sated. He, on the other hand, had only managed to
pull himself away from the ledge to a more controlled but taut state. It
had been better than nothing, and he’d managed to avoid killing anyone.

Ronan waved his hand on front of his face. “Mikko, did you want
to examine her or did you want me to do it?”

“You do it.”

Kyran couldn
’
t look at Ronan. He was too caught up in the gentle
pink color of the Hunter
’
s full lips and the gentle rise and fall of her
breasts.

The way her hair fanned around her face made him take a step
forward. He needed to grip it, run his hands through its silky lengths
, let it drape around him as she strad–
Shit
.

He forced himself to take a step back. It would have been easier
to swim after being fitted with cement shoes, but he managed.

“Mikko, you might want to look at this.”

Kyran peered at the Hunter
’
s exposed torso. “She can go home
tomorrow.”

He walked over to the bed, repeating a mantra for strength in the
face of temptation. He shook the thermos.

“So are you trying to make me force feed you, Hunter?”

“No.”

“Then eat.”

“No.”

Kyran looked at her for a second before he turned and went to the
panel. He needed to leave, because even her slight defiance was causing
issues with his control. He wanted…something. And it had to come
from the woman who was stretched out on the bed.

Part of him knew that it wasn't just sex that he craved. He wanted –
needed
on an intuitive level – more from her. And that part warred with
his self-preservation.

He was leaning to scan his retina when the glass he had given her
for her water crashed into the wall beside his head.

“Are you fucking insane?” Ronan asked, but it only sounded like background noise to Kyran’s growing rage.

He turned around slowly, deliberately trying to give himself time
to gather even a morsel of restraint.

“Did you just throw something at me?”

“If I did, I wouldn’t have missed.”

Kyran motioned for Ronan to wrap up the examination before he
turned around to enter the code.

The thermos slammed into the wall, splashing its hot contents over
him and the door that had begun to open.

Ronan let out a curse.

“Get out, Ronan.” Kyran saw his brother hesitate, which only pissed
him off more. “Ronan, get the fuck out.”

Ronan left mumbling a prayer to Narn regarding dumbass Hunters
on his way out. The doors shut, and the security reset on them before Kyran looked at the Hunter.

***

Alexis crouched on the bed, which agitated her stitches. It was also
a terrible place to prepare for a fight, but the monstrosity of a bed
prevented her from finding a more tactical position in the room. Besides,
she didn’t want to win.

She sucked in a breath and watched him as his predatory gaze trailed
over her. She tried to mimic the intensity of his stare, but dominance contests weren’t her forte, so she blinked.

That blink was all he
’
d needed. She opened her eyes to find herself
pinned underneath him. Alexis remained silent, though her wound was
screaming
in defiance. Pain visited her frequently enough that she didn't
cry out much anymore.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you?”

“You should,” she said.

He leapt from the bed and glared at her. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to die anyway.”

He scoffed, rolling his shoulders as if attempting to ward off his agitation. “I’ve been doing surgery for more than a century. You’ll be fine. Hell, you’re going home tomorrow.”

Alexis blinked back tears. She swore she wouldn
’
t cry, that she
would face her death like her brother had. “I can’t go home. They
’
ll kill
me when they find out.”

“Find out what?”

“I can’t do my job anymore.”

Hunters didn
’
t t
olerate
members who couldn
’
t
fulfill
their obligations
.
Desk jobs were reserved for the Hunters whose elevated senses were too
weak to be an
asset
in the field. The only slots r
eserved
for the ineffective
ones were in the ground.