Chapter 2 : Catching the Hunter

Something draws tight around my ankle, so tight I can’t feel my foot.

Willing myself not to panic as I’ve seen my prey do, I stay perfectly still. If I move, I’ll probably fall flat on my face. Ancient stone faces of warriors and heroes look down on me from the walls. Right now they’re watching to see if I mess up.

And my foot is wiggling because I smell pine resin somewhere. Maybe from the fires in this place. Yet there are no fires in sight.

I step with my other foot, shifting my weight so the trapped foot doesn’t get tired.

Smooth fingers grip my other ankle.

I look down and see the most maddening, beguiling hazel eyes beneath a fringe of messy blond hair. A beautiful man kneels at my feet, dressed in yellow. How anyone with that color hair can pull off wearing yellow, I’ll never know. Maybe it’s more gold than yellow. He couldn’t be a hunter, could he? Or the pack beta?

Or one of the kings? Nah. No way.

“Don’t move,” he says in a deathly serious voice. “You move before I can untie the rope from your pretty leg and a boulder is going to come crashing down on us both.”

“Is this how you greet visitors?”

He flashes me a defiant smile. “Until we know if you’re friend or foe.”

A more regal, commanding voice booms through the corridor. “Let her go!”

I look up and am grateful my feet are now welded to the floor because the two male specimens striding toward me could melt my bones.

They have my captor’s golden hair and his face, but different eyes and hairstyles. The one closest to me has a thick shoulder-length mane, a neatly trimmed beard and mustache, and deep brown eyes the color of my favorite cocoa. The other man wears his hair down past his shoulders. His eyes, the color of pine trees, fix on me with an intensity I can’t look away from. I’m a sucker for a blond green-eyed man.

I’ve seen pictures of Jordan, Kent, and Wiley Leavenworth, the kings of the Ruby Nightclaws. Now, the beautiful tyrants are right in front of me, in the tantalizing flesh. If I didn’t have a dossier on all their crimes against their own people, I might feel even more weak-kneed.

Before I know what’s happening, I feel the rope being untied from my ankle, and the third blond Adonis rises, then takes my hand in his and kisses it. Wiley Leavenworth is six feet tall like his brothers, slightly towering over me.

“It’s not often someone gets the drop on me,” I say in as nonchalant a voice as I can manage.

“Coming from you, Miss Blessing, that’s a compliment,” His Majesty replies.

“And far more gracious than this idiot deserves,” the bearded one, Jordan Leavenworth says, with a withering look at his triplet brother. “Welcome to our kingdom, Miss Blessing.”

Kent Leavenworth, with vivid pine-green eyes, looks down on his crafty brother. He has leaner features and a thinner nose than the others. “Honestly, he should have expected you not to get tripped up by his snare. Just so you know, there is no boulder hanging above your head, ready to drop with one false move.”

I give him my most charming smile. “You don’t say?”

Alpha Wiley doesn’t look fazed in the least by his brothers chewing him out for his terrible manners. “If anyone asks, there’s a boulder or a pot of boiling oil hanging from the ceiling where nobody can see.”

“You stole that from an old fantasy novel, didn’t you?” I ask.

He doesn’t confirm or deny it as he smirks, and kisses my hand again, his lips are even more lethal than his wit. “I’m sorry for tricking you.”

These are tyrants, no matter how charming and well-mannered they are! What’s the matter with me?

Jordan elbows him aside and takes my hand, bowing over it and kissing it. His lips feel like velvet. Interestingly, he’s wearing a simple blue cotton shirt and trousers paired with shiny black boots. All that thick blond hair is tamed by a dark golden circlet set with three rubies. Wiley doesn’t wear one–he’s all dressed in gold, the same color as his tanned skin. Kent is dressed in sea green and wears an identical circlet to Jordan’s. Wiley must have one too.

“When your Alpha offered your services, we thought the Moon Goddess herself had stepped in,” Jordan tells me in that deep, deep voice. It sounds like it comes from the heart of the forest.

Kent agrees, taking my arm in a gingerly but polite way and escorting me down the hall. “We’ve gotten sick of seeing those rogues’ tails disappearing into the night. It’s embarrassing.”

He speaks in a frank, open manner, and both his brothers give him the side-eye.

“I wouldn’t put it quite like that,” Jordan murmurs.

“Don’t listen to him,” Wiley says with bravado. “We can handle anything.”

It’s all I can do not to laugh. They have no idea that they’ve just invited their downfall into their court. This palace with its thick stone walls isn’t going to protect them from me.

“You could always scare them with the rumors of your pot of boiling oil,” I say.

Wiley pats my arm. “I like the way she thinks.”

Damn, why does he have to be so charming and enthusiastic? Why does his brother Kent have to be so direct and open in a way that disarms me? And why can’t I take my eyes off Jordan’s smile?

These kings must be masters of deceiving people. It’s all an act. The minute I step out of line, I’m sure the masks will come off.

My wolf growls at me not to be stupid. I stop dead, gobsmacked.

“What is it?” Kent inquires.

Jordan glowers at Wiley. “One guess.”

“No, it’s not him. I … I was just thinking how lovely this is. This palace. And how nice it is to meet you.”

That flatters them. “Well, the file on you left a few details out,” Wiley says with a wink. “Like what a good sport you are. And how beautiful.”

“Absolutely,” Jordan and Kent chorus.

Wiley did it again! He caught me off guard with those big hazel eyes and that devastating smile.

He continues walking and I find myself moving with him. “You won’t believe the dinner the chef is cooking in honor of you tonight.”

Good thing I brought a change of clothes so I wouldn’t embarrass myself if invited to dine with the kings and the former Luna, Elayna. According to my files, she’s quite active in governing the pack and advising her sons.

Does she sign off on all their cruelty? Is she a power-hungry Queen Mother? Or someone who believes her precious boys can do no wrong?

“Dinner sounds delicious,” I say. “I’m honored.”

At the end of the hall, we enter a rotunda lined with statues and then make our way into an elegant parlor.

I’m only half listening, because the parlor is just what I’ve been dreaming about. A big fireplace. Plants everywhere, with potted trees lining the walls. Floor-length vases. A huge globe shows the modern world that we haven’t lost touch with, even though we’re hidden from it. Couches covered in rich soft chenille fabric in various shades of ruby and scarlet. A ceiling with a mosaic of the Pacific Northwest coastline all the way up to British Columbia and even the Inside Passage leading to Alaska. A large coffee table sits in the center of the couches that form the conversation area.

Jordan gestures at the seating area. “I’m sure you want to set up in one of our offices or libraries, but first, relax and enjoy our hospitality. Wiley, since you’re such an old kitchen hand, go see about getting us some coffee and snacks.”

“At least I know where the kitchen is and don’t need a ticket to get there,” Wiley shoots back, and walks out with a spring in his step.

I’m not so awed by the surroundings or distracted by Wiley’s wit that I don’t notice Kent taking my backpack from me.

“I’ll keep that with me, thank you.” I grab for it. “It was searched, after all. Thoroughly, I might add.”

It’s not as if I’m stupid enough to bring a notebook with “My Plan to Kill the Kings” written in it. I do have a file on the kings, their kingdom, and the Olympic Howlers, but nothing that would raise eyebrows. I’m Haydon Blessing’s daughter, trained by him from the time I could walk, and everyone knows he collects information.

But still, I don’t want to throw up any red flags.

Kent doesn’t listen to me but unzips my backpack and rifles through it.

“HEY!”

“Nothing personal.” He pulls out my files, raising his golden brows. “You have files on us?”

I look as innocent as a dove. “I want to know about you from the rogues’ perspective. Whatever they might know.”

“Very thorough,” Jordan says, folding his arms, fascinated. “Proceed, Kent.”

He’s got to be irresistible when he gives orders like that. It’s a shame that he doesn’t use his power for good.

Kent is riveting too in his focus as he pulls out everything except my underwear. A rookie mistake. I could be hiding anything there. He shouldn’t underestimate me because I’m a woman or be such a gentleman.

He surprises me by scanning my underwear. Then, as quickly and efficiently as he’s taken apart the contents of my backpack, he puts them back exactly the way I packed them.

How irritating. I’m not sure why this irritates me. Or why I keep smelling pine resin when the logs in the fireplace don’t smell or look like pine.

“She’s clean,” Kent announces and sets the backpack down. “Anyone foolish enough to try to sneak in wolfsbane, a silver dagger, or anything else with the intent to do us harm deserves whatever they get.”

His tone makes me shudder. I can’t get comfortable here…I need to be on my guard with these brothers–no matter how charming and sexy they seem.