The Lycan Hunter (The Gardinian World Series) by Kelsey Jordan Page A

jerk.”
    Both of the wolves laughed. The one with the needle approached her and stood at her side while the jerk stood at the foot of her slightly inclined bed. He wasn’t looking at her again, which chafed for some unknown reason.
    “Be still. It won’t hurt long. Go ahead, brother.”
    At least he didn ’ t lie to me , she thought.
    Medical professionals seemed to learn the awful habit of saying something didn’t hurt before they jabbed you with something sharp. She liked to return the favor, which was why she wasn ’ t allowed to have her blades when she went to the clinic at headquarters.
    “ Wait… ” Alexis looked over to the one with the needle and waited until he met her gaze. “What’s your name?”
     The wolf at the foot of the bed shook his head. “Don’t.”
    “It ’ s Ronan.” Ronan swiftly turned to face his brother and held his hands up in a defensive pose. “And before you get pissed off because I disobeyed a direct order, Mikko, let me tell you why.”
    The jerk, who was this pack ’ s unfortunate leader, motioned him to continue.
    “I would rather she call me by name, because I can’t promise that she won’t suffer from a sudden case of asphyxiation if she calls me wolf again. We both know how you feel about me not keeping my hands to myself.”
    The Mikko growled low in his throat but nodded his concession.
    Ronan turned his attention back to Alexis and gave her a tight smile. “Hold still.”
    “One more thing.”
    Ronan let out an irritated sigh. “What now?”
    “First, my name is Alexis, and second, what’s his name?”
    “That’s two things. And his name is his own to tell you. I like my head where it ’ s at, and frankly, you, Hunter, aren ’ t worth me losing it.”
    The Mikko snorted and motioned for Ronan to give her the shot.
    “Be quiet so that we can get this over with. I have a movie to watch , and you are cutting into my popcorn making time.”
    Ronan stuck her, injected the pain medicine, and disposed of the needle with a lethal swiftness. He watched her for a moment before he started to loosen the restraints on her arms. Alexis would have rejoiced a t the freedom, but her arms wouldn ’ t obey her, and her consciousness was fading.
    ***
    Alexis woke up and grimaced at her surroundings. What is it with Lycans? Where was the grimy dungeon, the multipurpose cup that still held lingering bits of dirt and furry mold, or even the pallet of thin, dingy blankets?
    It’s what the Hunters would have done if they bothered to keep prisoners, which they didn’t. Too much money funneled into things better off dead.
    Unable to resist, she burrowed farther into the fluffy pillows and sighed at their pure luxury. Staying on her back, enveloped in the comfort of the mattress, she looked around.
    The room was homey, relaxing in its greenness. The walls were draped with hanging ivy that grew from planters near the ceiling. She surmised that the lights above them must be UV, which would explain the ivy’s rich color despite being deprived of true daylight.
    The decorating consisted of coordinating hues of greens and browns. The bed she lay on was a monstrosity of comfort that bathed the roo m in its overwhelming presence. The dresser opposite the bed was a hand carved rectangle with golden handles. On top laid her small clothes bag.
    The bag’s presence in the wolf compound only solidified that the Lycans knew more about her than she knew about them. Hopefully, they didn’t know too much. She tended to pack a few hidden weapons in her clothes bag. The mere thought of weapons galvanized her to jump out of the bed and check.
    “Oh,” she said.
    A loud exhale of air escaped as she caught herself on the edge of the bedside table. She had misjudged her capabilities for movement and paid for it in wobbly knees and lightness in her head.
    Alexis reached out and gripped the edge of the table, crumpling a piece of paper that had been laying on top in her frantic grip. Once she