Chapter 9

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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 tolerate 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 reserved for the ineffective ones were in the ground.

"What's changed in the last thirty minutes?"

Alexis leaned against the headboard. Of course he couldn't just kill her and get it over with. No, he needed viable reasons.

Where was a rogue when you needed one?

"What's your name?"

"Why?"

"I need the name of the person I'm going to put a bullet in."

"Kyran." He smiled at her, but it wasn't friendly. "See, now you can stop doing shit to piss me off. They won't kill you if you keep talking like that." He turned and headed for the door but shot her a glance over his shoulder. "Just do me a favor. Don't be a coward. Shoot me in the chest."

Alexis rested her head on her knees and watched the door close behind Kyran. She needed him in a true rage. He had been mad, but blinding rage—the kind where good judgment vanished into the ether—was the only way she could get him to kill her. She had less than a day to change his mind about keeping her alive.

God must hate me.

It had been less than a month since her brother, Torin, had come home, and by the end of that month, he was dead. Now she was repeating his footsteps, probably an exact carbon copy considering Suches had been Torin's last post. More to the point, she was seeing what he'd meant by not all Lycans were bad.

When Torin returned to headquarters, he kept telling her things she had assumed were nothing more than the fantastical ravings of someone who should take a long vacation. He kept up his speeches to his family about how Lycans weren't all bad and how one of them had even helped him. Their parents never said anything to the contrary, just politely nodded and pretended nothing was wrong. At least that's what she thought they did, but she should have known better considering that they were both Elders.

The Elder's Council was the true heart of the Hunter organization. Made up of retired members of the Edict Council, the Elders were responsible for training Hunter initiates, children born of two Hunter parents. However, their true duties were drafting the laws that governed the Hunters and prosecuting those that broke them.

The Elders only concerned themselves with two laws: dereliction of duty and treason. Anyone found guilty of breaking those laws didn't live long after the trial.

Torin's next assignment—eliminating a pride of Alesers in Florida—had resulted in his death. There were only six members of the pride, but all of them turned out to be rogue. The backup he was supposed to have never showed, but they weren't supposed to.

Alexis didn't want to die that way. She knew her death would be imminent, but having to swallow the knowledge that her parents had sentenced her to death wasn't something she could tolerate. Especially considering the likely type of "assignment" they seemed to choose when discharging a Hunter from service.

If only I could stay here.

Musing about the impossible wouldn't change anything, so she did what she could. She stripped out of her hospital gown, grabbed some clothes, and went to take a shower. Maybe the hot water would help her draft a plausible plan to infuriate a wolf.

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