The Lycan Hunter (The Gardinian World Series) (41 page)

He wrapped her in his arms and rested his chin against the top
of her head. That’s how they stayed, in silence, until Alexis grew too tired to stand.

Kyran carried her back to their bed, kissed her goodnight, and
slipped from the room as she drifted to sleep.

KYRAN WATCHED AS AFRI
walked in a circle in the middle of the
wooden altar. She blessed the space with a chant in the Gardinian
language. When she finished, the altar was roped off, letting all know
that the space was now hallowed ground, therefore off limits until the
ceremony.

The pool house
’
s d
ecorations had been
changed to fit the
environment
of an early evening ceremony. The flowers along the beveled edge of
the altar had been slightly altered, the design more elaborate than before.
The fabric that had been decorating the altar for the Tyllaga had been
removed. In their place, a curtain of yellow Clematis hung loosely around
three sides. The front side
’
s flowers were pulled back loosely like curtains
and secured against the adjoining posts with braided ribbons of gold.

With the brief Ceremony of Readying complete, Kyran left Afri to entertain herself while he went to make sure progress was being made
elsewhere. When he was satisfied that everything was moving along
as it should, Kyran turned his attention to locating Lykil. He needed to
discuss his Gavatta, the gift of taking.

Kyran couldn’t think of a single earthly gift that Lykil would want
or couldn
’
t readily acquire on his own. Since the god was acting as
Alexis’ representative, he decided to ask Lykil what was required of him as a means of Gavatta that wouldn’t be wholly insulting.

Traditionally, the Gavatta was given to the bride
’
s family. The gift of taking’s purpose was for the groom to show the bride’s family that
he was honored that they found him worthy to bestow their blessing on the union. Alexis was an odd case, however. Her parents weren’t
a valid choice, of course, with their propensity for violence against
their children. Torin, being her brother, would have been an obvious
choice, but Torin wasn
’
t exactly his own being. For all intents and
purposes, Torin now belonged to Lykil; therefore anything belonging
to Torin was Lykil’s to claim.

Kyran eventually found Alexis
’
brother and her representative god
near the lake’s edge, skipping rocks. He found it slightly amusing to
find the God of Destruction in a heated competition with his Hermod
.
There was a lot of pushing, efforts at distraction, and general airing of
testosterone in a contest that likely had little to nothing at stake.

Lykil obviously craved the interaction that came with the good-
natured jokes and the easy-going rough housing. In that moment,
Kyran found his nearly lifelong bias wiped out. Unfortunately, clarity
came only when the viewer was ready to see and took Kyran far too long to see Lykil for more than the title of his domain.

“What can I do for you, Lycan?”

Just like that, the god sobered, hiding the more relaxed version of
himself from view. Torin found a distraction a few feet away, giving
them the illusion of privacy. The speed of the god
’
s personality switch
was almost disorientating, but Kyran understood the reason for it. In
many ways, Lykil and Ronan were alike. They both hid the parts of
themselves from majority of people, granted for very different reasons
. Ronan’s was to keep Kyran safe, not that he needed it anymore. The
more people underestimated Ronan, the better. For Lykil, Kyran could
only suspect that any weakness in the god was taken advantage of,
thus it was hardly ever shown, and when it was, it was to a select few
. He hadn’t trusted Lykil, and Lykil had returned the favor in shutting him out of the being he truly was.

“I need to discuss the Gavatta.”

“What do you intend to give?”

“You could have your desires with each passing whim. What could
you possibly want that I can give?”

“I could, but I don’t. Indulging my whims ends worlds.”

“True enough.”

They were silent for a breath before Lykil resumed skipping rocks
across the lake’s surface. Three rocks met their fate at the bottom of the lake before Lykil spoke.

“I want you to give her everything she wants, needs, and desires.
Keep her safe. Do for her what you couldn’t do for her brother.”

The last sentence stung, but Kyran ignored the verbal jab.

“Do what I’m already promising to do.”

“Exactly.” Lykil skipped one last rock before he turned around
to face him. “You’re right. Torin and I need nothing that I don
’
t already
have or can’t readily acquire. Since you have to say something, tell them
that all I require is what you’ve already promised.” The god sighed.
“The gods have asked a lot of you already, Kyran. I won’t ask for
anything else.”

Kyran jerked his gaze to meet Lykil
’
s and fought the urge to shrink
back. A timeless, but ominous knowledge danced in his gaze.

“Do you know something I don’t, Lykil?”

He shrugged. “I’m not omniscient, but the favor of the gods is
rarely without a hefty price.”

“I know that already.”

“Do you?”

Kyran raised an eyebrow. “I’m still waiting to find out what the blessing for the baby is going to cost me.”

A flicker of emotion flashed though Lykil’s eyes that caused a
sense of unease to snake through Kyran.

“Do not confuse me with the others, Lycan. My generosity is
limitless compared to the others, but I suppose you’ll find that out soon enough.”

Kyran started to ask what the hell he meant by that, but before he
the words formed on his tongue, the god vanished.

***

After Lykil’s abrupt departure at the lake, Kyran made his way
inside to let his mother put two braids at each of his temples. It was Tala
tradition to have the braids in order to show the joining of two lineages
.
Also, part of the tradition was for the mother to mark the occasion by
intertwining a small token of herself into one of the braids.

For him, Erma braided in a blue ribbon that had been printed with
a prayer of strength at his Naming. Three more went in the remaining
braids, each a prayer for him and his future wellbeing.

The process was quick enough, so Kyran soon found himself driftin
g
around the house in aimless pursuit of ways to pass the time.

The hour came when he needed to get dressed. He put on slate
grey linen pants with subtle golden stitching. As with all ceremonies, he went shirtless, making his wardrobe the only thing he didn’t have to obsess in great detail about.

He walked out, taking his time to admire the hand-carved candle
holders that lined the pathway from the main house out to the pool
house. The tops of the holders held flameless candles on top of stems carved with prayers.

Inside the pool house, the guests and the pack were already seated
in the chairs they’d occupied just two days prior.

The altar itself was still roped off with Afri standing guard at the
helm. The goddess nodded at his approach, turning to sever the braided
rope. She waved her hand, and the rope vanished before it hit the ground.

Afri entered the altar space, motioning for him to follow. Kyran stood to her left and surveyed the crowd.

Those in attendance were presented as a sea of varying color. Some
of the guests tried harder than others to impress, but it was Anise
and her striking green eyes in a melted chocolate face that caught his attention. A spark of emotion in her brief gaze that told him that she was hiding something. Whatever it was, Omar was going to be in for
a hell of a time whenever he made his move on the Aleser. How Derrick
managed to miss the subtle nuances of her sleeping power, Kyran
couldn
’
t understand. The Tor, clad in a cream-colored suit, sat oblivious
to the woman next to him, choosing instead to cast irritated glares at the other visiting Lycans. Some people just couldn’t be happy.

Kyran turned his attention to the rest of the crowd, noting the various
suits of the males and some of the more extravagant dresses of the
females.

He waited not so patiently for the ceremony to start. The murmurs
of
those in attendance began to grate on his nerves when soft footfalls broke
through the whispered words of those gathered.

Silence greeted Alexis and Lykil as they stepped into the open
doorway. Lykil and Torin both wore matching deep blue linen pants
with gold stitching that complimented the lighter blue of Alexis
’
dress
, though dress was the wrong word.

In truth, the outfit that Alexis wore was more of a sari. Simple
elegance in design, but extravagant in the details without being gaudy.

The color of the sari was a blend of various hues of blue on the
lighter end of the spectrum. Along the bottom hem was a beaded
representation of an infinity knot framed by a thick band of gold and blue beading. The blouse of the sari was cerulean blue, long sleeved,
and capped with thick bands of beading at the wrists. A long swath of
fabric that draped one shoulder also held the thick bands of beading along one of its hemlines.

Overall, Alexis was dressed in subtle opulence. Her hair completed
the look, being a joining of his preference for her hair to hang loose,
her tendencies towards ponytails, and the more formal requirements of the wedding.

Braids – tiny and intertwined with various jeweled beads – lined
the crown of her head. At the top, they wound their way around a
section of loose, glossy curls. The back portion of her inky black hair hung loose in cascading curls.

When she approached, Lykil helped her to the stool at the center of the altar, and he went to stand at Afri’s right side.

The goddess stepped forward and welcomed the crowd. She
returned to her position before turning to address Lykil.

“Today you stand before witnesses representing the blood of your Hermod. In doing so, you owe her the Gava, as is the responsibility of
the bride’s family.”

Lykil gave Afri a nod before looking at Kyran.

“On this day, I am witness to affirm that Alexis stands both faithful
and true, without ill intent, to join Kyran in blessed matrimony.” Lykil
knelt in front of Alexis. “The day we first met, I told you that you
’
d
get me as your personal slave.” Afri released a small gasp when he
paused to take hold of Alexis
’
wrist. “While that was said in jest, I find
myself willing to alter my statement. A god can be owned by no one. Today, I give you the promise of me along with access to my earthly wealth to use however you see fit for the rest of your days.”

His index and middle fingers held her inner wrist firm, as though
taking her pulse. The silence that enveloped the room was broken by a sharp cry from Alexis.

Kyran understood the mark of a god wasn't always painless.
Receiving Lykil’s Amund, his divine protection, was likely to be one of the more painful ones.

When Lykil
’
s eyes closed and his head dipped, Kyran knew somethin
g
wasn’t right about the process. The shock that registered on Afri
’
s
face
solidified
that the God of
Destructio
n wasn't performing an Amund
. Kyran moved to break the connection, but Lykil’s eyes flashed open and met his gaze.

In all the world’s languages, there wasn’t a single color to describe
the color that had taken over Lykil
’
s eyes. Whatever its name, it managed
to be all colors and yet none of them. Hypnotized, Kyran stopped and
drowned in their terrifying beauty.

Lykil broke the visual contact, focusing his closed eyes on Alexis,
who was now silent. Though the god
’
s attention was no longer focused
on him, Kyran still felt the weight of Lykil
’
s presence within him. Making
itself at home inside of him was millions of lifetimes of knowledge. He
tried to ascertain what the knowledge was, to find its definition within
him, but it blended into him, getting lost in the nuances of his own being.

The tense silence continued for a few minutes before Lykil relaxed
his hold on Alexis and opened his eyes. His irises had returned to their
normal fiery orange.

“You okay?” Lykil asked her.