The Bridal Hunt (Brides of the Hunt Book 1)

by Jeanette Lynn

  Seeing where this was going, I popped over and hopped in front of Tarnk, arms thrown out protectively when Kirch would have plowed into him. "Are you crazy?! He's hurt! You can't pummel him now!"

  "Meanie my mate! Tarnk no touch!" The crazy, jealous male was pissed, growling so fiercely I thought he may have snapped a little.

  "He has a mate! Candy! He doesn't want a crazy pregnant lady with three mates! He'd have to be insane to even consider it!"

  Veck and Bia came lumbering up the walkway, took in the carnage and the yelling and, much as Kirch had, let themselves in.

  Kirch took advantage of my momentary distraction, as I glanced towards my other mates for help, to scoop me up and cradle me against his body possessively. “Mine.” He growled at Tarnk in warning, anger rolling off of him in waves as his arms banded around me protectively.

  "Oh! Let's just get out the beer! It's a friggin' party now!" I shouted, tossing my arms up as I motioned for everyone to come on in. Expression mulish, I glared at Veck and Bia, daring them to start some shit. "You wanna pummel Tarnk for showing me an arrow, too?"

  Dorothy came in humming then, pausing, glancing around the room briefly, to raise an eyebrow inquiringly.

  "Dorothy!” I called out, looking for an ally. “Save me! Kirch has lost his damn mind!"

  Dorothy chuckled and patted Kirch's cheek affectionately, adjusting the basket on her hip as she darted past. Shaking a finger at her nephew from over her shoulder, she chuckled. "He always was a cheeky little monkey."

  "Traitor," I muttered. “Kool-Aid drinkin’ traitor.”

  Bia’s mother busied herself about the room, acting as if it was completely normal to walk in on your nephew trying to beat on another male for talking to his mate, squishing his mate to his chest while she tried to hold him back, his lips pulled back in an angry snarl directed at the other male. Then again, for them, maybe this all was normal. Oh, boy...

  "Are you boys being careful with her?" Dorothy asked conversationally, glancing up at my mates expectantly as she flitted about the room.

  "This no sex thing is all your fault, isn't it?" I accused, crossing my arms over my chest stubbornly, scowling fiercely in her direction.

  It was hard, but I ignored the fact that I probably looked ridiculous with my feet dangling as Kirch kept me pinned to his chest, my back to his front, his arms banded around me under my breasts.

  "Mina!" Bia sputtered, blushing bright red, his gaze darting from his mother to my churlish scowl.

  "You know, I've never seen you blush like that before," I observed distractedly. It looked good on him.

  "Oh, he's the most reserved of the men. Blushes like a tomato. Then again, he's also the youngest," Dorothy said fondly, chuckling at her son's discomfort. "I love it. It’s so cute."

  Not that I’d embarrass him by saying it out loud, but it indeed was.

  "I am not cute," Bia grumbled. “I am Lo denaii. We’re fierce.”

  Fiercely cute, and adorable, I amended silently.

  "He's the youngest?" I asked, eyeing him dubiously. "Is that why he talks so much better than Kirch and Veck?"

  "Hey!" they all growled in unison. I chose to ignore them.

  "Oh, yes." Dorothy nodded as she bustled about, checking Tarnk's wounds, cleaning his shoulder off and covering it with some type of smelly ointment. "Some of the later brides have taught me a thing here and there, told me things, brought books in with them and such, you know? We try to keep as up to date as we can. I’ll admit, new blood being brought in whenever the portal stays open long enough helps.” Her hands clapped merrily as she pulled back, while I digested all that. “And I've taught what I learn to my sons. Veck and Kirch as well—when and if, and I say if, they're even willing to listen. Stubborn males." Smirking, she rolled her eyes at the very idea.

  Well, that definitely explained a few things.

  "Bia's the most prudish, too," She continued, immediately pulling me back into the conversation. "He’s the youngest Lo denaii in the village, you know. The last one to be born in years. Wouldn't even bathe in front of the other males, growing up or once he’d reached adulthood. So shy, that one."

  I giggled at the very idea. My Bia a prude? Shy?

  "He doesn't want his mama to know he has sex," she mock-whispered, snorting.

  "You are both evil," Bia scoffed on a huff, curling his lip up at us. Dorothy and I glanced at each and she mouthed the dreaded words he hated—so cute—and we both grinned.

  Glancing from Kirch to Bia, it begged the question, "So... if Bia's youngest, how old are Veck and Kirch?"

  "Veck's older than me and Kirch isn't that far behind," Dorothy admitted, putting that putrid smelling ointment back in her basket.

  Eyebrows winging upward, I looked to Veck. Eyes bright, he grinned and winked. "Meanie loves Meanie's old mates. Mm. Baby ones, too," he tacked on, glancing over at Bia.

  "Gee, thanks," Bia drawled sarcastically.

  "Kirch not old!" Kirch snapped his jaws and growled.

  "Anyway," I sang, changing the subject. I didn’t think Tarnk's little hut could handle my mates full out brawling in it—or Tarnk in the state that he’s in, for that matter. "Tarnk's wound looks like a gunshot wound. Does anyone here have guns?"

  "No," Veck answered immediately.

  "Are you sure?" My stomach knotted with worry.

  "Yes." He nodded.

  My worry turned into a lead weight, settling heavily in my gut. "Then I think we have a problem. Either someone has a gun or came through the portal with one, and they obviously aren’t afraid to use it."

  Veck frowned and glanced at Tarnk, staring at the hole in his chest. Grunting something under his breath, he started talking to him rapidly in Lo denaii, Tarnk responding every so often.

  "What's he saying?" I whispered to Kirch.

  Kirch nuzzled my neck and translated. "Veck wants Tarnk to show Veck where rock hit Tarnk."

  "It wasn't a rock! It was a bullet. Dorothy, tell them!" I insisted.

  Dorothy smiled apologetically, shrugging as she slowly shook her head. "I've never actually seen a bullet wound, so I wouldn’t know. It looks different, alright, what Tarnk has, but what do I know it from?"

  Gaze darting to Veck desperately, I shook my head, waving my arms about wildly. "Oh, no. Whoa, fellas! Hey, hold the horses here! You can't go over there! What if the bad guy is still there?!" Slapping at my captor, I wiggled out of Kirch's hold and ran to Veck. Fingers digging in, I tugged on his arm, latching myself onto him.

  "Veck careful, Meanie," Veck tried to assure me, unconcerned.

  "No!" I shouted, trying to think of a legitimate excuse why he shouldn't. But other than what I’d just said, I had nothing. "Uhm... Uhm... Oh! Make Tarnk go! He already has a hole in him, what's one more, right?"

  All conversation halted and everyone turned to me as if I'd lost my mind.

  "Okay! Okay! I'm sorry!" I said hurriedly, addressing a gaping Tarnk. "That was mean, and stupid, and insensitive, but I'm desperate here! It's too dangerous!"

  "Meanie," Veck soothed, trying to hide his amusement that I’d throw Tarnk under the bus for him, "Veck careful, Meanie no worry." Fingers caressing my face sweetly, he bent down to nuzzle my neck.

  "A gun! A gun, Veck!” I babbled. “Don't tell me not to worry, you overgrown lummox! You could get shot!"

  Bia glanced at Kirch and Veck thoughtfully. "I could keep Mina's mind off of everything while you two check it out.” He shrugged. “I promised to take her to the caves the other day, I just haven't had the time."

  "You do? You did? Oohhh, I get it. That's code for sex. Well, you aren't getting any, either. Kirch doesn't want me-"

  "Meanie! Kirch want-" Kirch attempted to cut in.

  "And," I said loudly, talking over the irate male, "I've decided that if I can't have one of you, I won't have any."

  Watching the drama unfold with avid attention, Dorothy burst out laughing.

  "Meanie..." this from Veck.

  "But," Bi
a protested.

  "And if you think I'm going to ride you until the cows come home," poking Bia in the chest, I huffed, "while these two go off all halfcocked and try to get themselves shot, or worse," I was growling now, motioning towards Veck and Kirch, "then you've lost your marbles!"

  "Kirch no want Meanie?" Tarnk blurted, flabbergasted, trying to keep up.

  “Oh my god. Is that all you heard?” Gnashing my teeth, incensed at this point, I growled at all of them.

  Beyond frustrated, I found myself eyeing Dorothy coldly as she tried to stifle her laughter. Her hands cupped over her face to hide it as she snorted and giggled into them, but it was no use.

  "Tell me it'll get better with time..." I muttered, looking to the ceiling and beyond for guidance as my head shook sadly. Taking a deep breath, my chin dipped and I looked to Dorothy pleadingly.

  "I wish I could," she said merrily, her shoulders shaking as her eyes danced.

  There was a loud knock on Tarnk's door frame, his door practically swinging off of its hinges. Someone had obviously tried to close the pathetic thing, having shoved it up and back into place at some point during all this madness—Bia, if I had to guess.

  Huffing heavily past everyone, I marched over to answer it. Straightening my shoulders, I let out a big breath, gripped the knob and gave it a tug. It groaned ominously and I leapt out of its way, sliding back to watch it fall. Listing to its side, it toppled somewhere off on top of Tarnk’s wood pile, just off to the side alongside the small entryway, where it landed with a banging crash. Better that than me.

  Wincing as I witnessed its descent, I looked up into the surprised face of the tall Lo denaii waiting impatiently just outside on the gravel walk. A cloud of dust plumed the air, puffing up around me like dirty fairy dust as I stepped around a splintered piece of the door’s busted edge. The wooden shoot sticking up and out pointed at me accusingly from its awkward slump, as if to point a finger.

  "Hello," I greeted Berkr. I couldn’t help but smirk a little as his eyes widened.

  He stared down at me for a long moment, then peered into the room, before glancing back at me again. "Tarnk?" he asked warily. Mouth barely moving, his thick lips thinned as his dark eyes shadowed.

  "He's here. Come on down," I said in my best game show host voice. Bowing gallantly, I motioned for him to step right up. "Might as well finish off the madness. What's one more, right?" My sarcasm was not lost on him as he stepped in, raising a fluffy white eyebrow.

  "Berkr," Tarnk greeted, as Berkr glanced around, wide-eyed.

  "Tarnk mate Meanie, too?" he muttered, incredulous, eyeing me like he was trying to figure out what was so great about little old me.

  "NO!" Kirch bellowed. "Meanie's Mine!" Teeth flashing menacingly, he stalked over and pulled me back to him, pushing my face into his chest, snarling at Berkr and Tarnk angrily.

  "Meanie say Kirch no want Meanie," Tarnk chimed in oh not so helpfully.

  “Thanks, Tarnk. You’re a great help,” I mumbled, voice muffled into Kirch’s fur. Fighting for freedom, I pulled back enough to breathe.

  "Kirch wants Meanie! Meanie's babies-" Kirch tried to explain, his momentary distraction allowing me enough wiggle room to put some space between us.

  "What can I say," I called over him, "he slimed me, broke my vagina, knocked me up, and now he's done with my fun box." Blinking rapidly, I looked to Kirch mournfully. "But it was fun while it lasted.” Reaching up, I stroked his cheek affectionately.

  The poor bastard grunted, freezing on the spot. He immediately lost all the fight in him as I kept it up, his thick lips pinching as he tried to muffle his happy purr on a growl. No one bought it and he glanced down at me, giving it up to rumble out a deep, chest rattling purr as he rolled his eyes at me.

  Bia busted up laughing at the sight, Veck bellowing right along with him. Shaking his head, Kirch tried to hide the smile threatening to break out across his face.

  Tugging him down to peck his lips, I winked, and that was all it took. His lips tipped up and he grinned from ear to ear, that heavy, contented purr starting up again, rumbling loud enough to rattle the window panes as he cupped my bottom in his large hands.

  Fighting fire with fire, he paid homage to the sensitive skin on my neck, lifting me up to tease and nibble the flesh, chuckling when I started to squirm restlessly.

  "Kirch broke Meanie's..." Berkr eyed me, a little slow on the uptake, horrified.

  Tarnk, however, must have caught on to my odd sense of humor. Eyes crinkling at the corners, he shook his head at me, a small smile playing at his lips.

  Dorothy, who I'd forgotten about up until this point, patted Berkr on the back. "You came here to tell Tarnk something, sweetie?" she prompted gently.

  Berkr quit staring at us, and brought himself back to the present. "Detret found Candy."

  "Where is she? Is she okay?" I spoke fast, the words tumbling over each other as I rushed to blurt it all out, unable to squash my concern—even for a bubble brained airhead like the dreaded Candy. Someone is out there with a gun, after all, and I highly doubted it was her. She didn’t even seem like she could tie her own shoes, let alone wield a gun properly.

  Berkr nodded and motioned for Tarnk to follow. He stopped when he got to the door, realizing we hadn't followed, too. "Candy wants Meanie."

  Damn. “Of course she does,” I muttered under my breath. I said worried, not wanted to see her. Well, crap. Grimacing, I sighed and rested my forehead against Kirch's. "Do I have to?" I whispered, for his ears only.

  Smiling mischievously, he gave my rump a good squeeze, rubbing his nose with mine before kissing the tip. "Kirch save Meanie from Candy's love," he purred, shocking me with the tease. So out of place for my typically taciturn mate.

  "That is not even funny!" Rife with mock indignation, I gave him a couple of good slaps to the chest, laughing despite myself.

  Chapter Eighteen

  C

  andy was by the pits where we have our weekly bonfires, glancing around nervously as she gripped a fur over her shoulders. She looked thoroughly put through the wringer, her blonde hair a rat’s nest atop her head, clothes covered in filth.

  "Willy!" Candy squealed when she saw me.

  I winced as her voice grated on my nerves, slamming into my poor eardrums.

  Dark blue eyes bright, she went to run up to us but stopped a few feet away, wide-eyed as Kirch strode up, nuzzling my cheek comfortingly as he cradled me in his arms.

  I patted the big lug on the chest, glancing up when he just stopped and stood there, grunting his typical welcome to Detret. "Kirch, you can put me down now."

  He didn't.

  Grunting noncommittally, he adjusted me more comfortably in his grip, said something to Detret, and gave Candy an annoyed expression. "Meanie is Kirch's mate," he rumbled out haughtily, mimicking me perfectly as he loosened his grip to press gently into my chest.

  Candy blinked. "Huh?"

  "Candy has Tarnk. Meanie is Kirch's." Thick lips twitching, he looked to me for confirmation, bright yellow eyes dancing puckishly as he glanced away to give her a serious expression. Kirch was a terrible actor, but I gave him an A for effort.

  Bia and Veck were chuckling—at my expense, of course—from somewhere behind me. Totally going to get them back for this later, I thought, as Kirch laid it on extra thick.

  "Oh my god. Now you're just being an ass,” I muttered under my breath, and then much louder, interrupting him, “Put me down, you baboon!"

  He set me down, purring huskily as I rubbed along his length, and tried to kiss me. I harrumphed and avoided his lips, rolling my eyes at him.

  "I don't even sound like that," I grumbled haughtily, shutting up when it occurred to me that I sounded exactly as he had moments ago. I’m a greedy, possessive anger ball, apparently—a snotty sounding one, at that.

  "Willy?" Candy mumbled, confused—so confused.

  Grimacing at the frightful look on her face, guilt surfaced. Good old guilt. "Ignore him,” I said s
oftly, as if to joke. “He has issues." Fingers flicking over my shoulder, I waved a hand in his general direction.

  The peanut gallery engaged again, but I studiously ignored them.

  "Oh, Willy, it's been so terrible," Candy said on a wail. She was like a tight coil, a silicone enhanced ball of emotions, ready to spring herself at me at any moment. And while I pitied her right then, we’d simply never be that chummy. Ever.

  When she was just about to give it a go, arms stretched out as her boot heels tilted tellingly, I threw my hands up and spoke fast. "What did he look like?"

  She froze, mid-launch, shoulders slumping as her arms dropped and her feet fell flat. "What did who look like?" Puffy lips trembling, she squinted at me through big, watery Bambi eyes.

  "The shooter. Did you see what they looked like? A he or a she? One or more?"

  "Shooter?" she asked stupidly, face pinching up tight.

  "Yeah, you know. Whoever it was that shot your mate."

  "My mate?"

  "Tarnk...? Your mate... remember?" I asked slowly, beginning to wonder if she had ever done drugs in her life, sniffed paint, or maybe hit her head a little too hard while lost in the wilderness. “The big guy you came in with not so long ago... you know...? Hairy dude that really digs you... yea tall? Ringing any bells?”

  "Oh... him.” Candy smacked her lips and pursed them. “He died.” Lashes fluttering as she blinked and glanced away, she spoke distractedly, almost casually, using her dirty, chipped fingers to try and comb through her ratted hair.

  "Uhm, no, he didn't. He-"

  "He did. I saw.” Her head bobbed enthusiastically, sending her hair flopping in its wake as it wobbled on her scrawny neck. “It was terrible." Candy shuddered, mumbling in her tiny baby voice, “So terrible,” as she scrubbed at her eyes hard.

  Shoulders shaking, fingers pressing hard enough into her eye sockets to make me wince, she looked up at me then, fresh tears through blood shot eyes starting to track down her cheeks.

  Did she just...? No. Mm. But it could have been... "Did you just poke yourself in the eyes?" I blurted, before I’d thought better of it.