Hunted (Pack of Dawn and Destiny, #1)(17)

“You shouldn’t have to think I don’t like you, you should know,” I said.

Before I could say more, he hit me with the full brunt of his Alpha powers.

I gritted my teeth as the pressure to fall to my knees was overwhelming to the point where I could barely see anything but his gold eyes.

I swear I could feel teeth on my neck, before my hunter magic kicked in and I shrugged his powers off.

I could still sense them—and even feel them to a certain extent—but the compulsive desire to do whatever he said wasn’t there.

Most of the time Greyson kept his Alpha spirit tightly coiled up—he was powerful enough that if he let it go free all the time most of the Pack would have a hard time moving around him. But whenever it was just the two of us, he liked to let loose.

I didn’t know if he just liked to test me to see if one day he’d be able to get me, or if he just liked to use me as the wolf equivalent of a squeaky toy to relieve stress, but he’d been battering me with his powers since the month we met.

I held up my rifle. “I’m armed.”

“Maybe if you could load it faster than I could get you, I’d be more cautious.” Greyson sauntered around me, his shoulder brushing my shoulders until he was walking side by side with me. He delivered a slight hip bump that set me moving again, and he easily kept pace with his longer legs as I trundled through the forest. “But using a rifle to attack in close range is beside the point. I wanted to say that you did well against the Low Marsh wolf.”

I almost tripped on a tree root, when I suspiciously peered up at him.

The compliment could have been an example of his twisted personality, but when he glanced at me, his golden eyes weren’t hooded with mischief as they usually were when we were alone.

“Thanks. But as rare as your praise is, I don’t know that it’s true. I’m realistic enough to know I was in a pretty bad spot.”

Greyson yawned, casually flexing as his powers saturated the area enough to choke a wolf. “You would have survived. He was close to bleeding out before I killed him.”

We walked up to a tree that had split halfway up its trunk and fallen over. I ducked under it, but Greyson—without breaking his pace—grabbed the trunk and casually leaped over the top of it.

This is why I can never win the Pack training sessions!

“But I did swoop in and save you,” Greyson pointed out as we veered around a bush.

I snorted. “What do you want, a medal ceremony?”

“Ceremonies are boring,” Greyson said. “But I’d take a reward. I accept payments of obvious pandering and weapons.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re the Alpha of this region. Taking care of invaders is your responsibility.”

“And I could say taking care of feral wolves is your responsibility, Lady Hunter.” Greyson’s rough voice made me feel more claustrophobic than his actual nearness as his shoulder bumped mine again.

“I’m a certified hunter, but we’re supposed to get permits to eliminate feral wolves.” I chewed on my lip. “Which is why we may get in trouble that I cut him up so badly.”

“True,” Greyson agreed. “If supernaturals are good at anything, it’s focusing on useless politics like paperwork and permits instead of what’s important.”

“Making more money off Pack-owned business?” I wryly asked.

“Yes,” Greyson agreed. “And intervening when supernaturals are about to harm humans—like the Low Marsh wolf was going to harm those kids.”

“That excuse would work if I believed your knight-in-shining-armor-leader act,” I said.

Greyson leaned over so his breath tickled my ear. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He laughed when I veered away from him and raised my shoulder to wipe off my ear.

“You’re just upset that hunters are being sent to investigate the wolf’s death,” I said.

“Now why would I ever be rankled by a thing like investigators mucking around my Pack and stirring up trouble with our humans?” Greyson’s voice went lower with his irritation. “But you’re wrong about one thing: I am furious with the Low Marsh wolves—that they let this happen.”

The pressure of his power expanded, and I felt it nibble around my knees as the sensation of teeth on my neck grew. “It was bad,” I said.

“It’s unforgiveable,” Greyson said. “The damage it could have caused to our relationship with humans—not to mention the loss of life—could have been irreparable.”

He glanced at me, and the pressure lightened. “Lucky for us, our Lady Hunter was on hand. But you aren’t skipping around without a care for anyone like you usually do, either. Do you expect trouble with the hunters?”

“Not exactly, but I doubt they’re going to be thrilled to see me.”

“But you’re all hunters. Isn’t there a sense of camaraderie?” Greyson asked.

“That I can easily exploit?” I asked, able to guess his reasoning. “No. Particularly since I’m a lone hunter. Typically the families take care of their own. But if things get bad I can contact the Quillons,” I said.

The Quillons were a hunter family based in Minnesota. Several of their hunters had been with my parents on the mission they’d died in. They felt bad about it, so they helped me out by providing hunter training, sponsoring my hunter certification, and more. They’d helped me when the rest of the hunter families had abandoned me—no one wanted to take on a hunter kid who would be the successor of a different family and not secure any additional power for them. I guess guilt is a strong motivator.