Page 22 of Kitty Cat

Rygan might not be completely mad like The Butcher, but he had the same effect on people - they feared him, because he was bigger than any feline shifter out there. Those deadly white fangs coming out from under his upper lip probably didn’t help.

His pack members were used to it, but at first, they all shuddered. In fact, he’d never met anyone who didn’t. Except Daunte. And that pretty Savannah-ish cat, too.

He found himself wondering, “What is he like? Your older brother.” The one person who was seen as more freakish than him by their community. “You never speak of him.”

Daunte was pretty open to sharing information about his father, the way he’d raised him; he’d even put the enforcers through some of the training The Butcher had taught him, but Rygan couldn’t recall one time when he’d mentioned his notorious sibling.

Rygan understood. He wasn’t particularly fond of speaking about his own brother, Colter, his father’s heir, so he’d never asked.

Colter was perfect - strong, smart, reliable. Whatever Rygan accomplished, Colter had already done it, and that completely negated his value, as far as his old pride had been concerned. He’d been expected to excel, because his brother had before him. The first time Rye had become his own person, rather than a King’s lesser son and a Prince’s brother, was when he’d created his pack. Even then, no one had supported his decision.

As he’d had more than two members following him, no one could legally deny his application to form the Wyvern pride, but they had all been as unsupportive as possible; except Rygan’s grandmother.

The old crone was yet another Colter groupie, and she had never been very fond of Rye, yet she was the one who’d made it down to the hotel where they’d stayed while deciding on a direction, a large check in hand. He still didn’t understand it, but one day, he was going to have to thank her for it. As that meant going to his father’s territory, or attending the Fest, it wasn’t very high in his list of priorities.

“Ah, yes. My sibling. Half of what you’ve heard is probably true, the other half couldn’t be more inaccurate.”

Rygan waggled an eyebrow, wondering when his Beta had taken to talking in riddles.

“We get along. There’s no doubt that we have each other’s back. But yep. He’s a crazy motherfucker and he’ll tear through someone’s skull in a heartbeat - for the right reasons.”

Rygan smiled, smoking his cigar.

“That makes two of us.”

He’d cracked a skull or two in his time.

“If we get the house, we’ll need to purchase it under the umbrella of one of Ian’s companies, or a fake name. The wolves will find us eventually, but let’s not make it easy on them.”

He didn’t always understand the details of Hsu’s visions, as the images flew too quickly, but there was no doubt that a battle was still coming; when she’d seen what happened here, though, the results of the battle was everyone coming home; battered, exhausted, but alive. The kids, Ola and Christine were also fine. Something had made a difference in Lakesides; perhaps there was a hide-out the wolves wouldn’t find.

Doubtful. Wolves were the best trackers; their damn noses were naturally better than any feline’s. Rye was missing something.

“You look worried. I mean, more than usual.”

Rygan sighed.

“I think Hsu’s vision might make us complacent. Now we know what’s after us, I don’t see any reason why the pride should be safer here than anywhere else, so we need to be vigilant.”

Daunte looked like he might want to say something but after a second, he just nodded.

“I’ll patrol, if you want to go back to bed. You’ve barely slept for days. You need a few hours in a row, Alpha - not twenty minutes here and there.”

Rye nodded, thankful, and headed inside.

Daunte was right, he wouldn’t be any good to the pride completely sleep deprived, so he went to the small bedroom, and dropped on the twin bed. He was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Rye was awokenby one of the most pleasing sensations in the world, a soft hand running along his cock, a wet tongue lapping at it, but something was wrong; he knew it before opening his eyes. Instead of feeling aroused, he was revolted, and also pretty confused.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he yelled, pushing Kim's hand away.

It didn’t make a bit of sense.

Okay, so maybe he’d been stupid, years ago, when she first joined his pack; he might have screwed the woman once or twice, but he'd made it absolutely clear that he was done a long time ago, and she had seemed okay with it. She’d just gone to the rest of the males in the pride to satisfy her needs - Daunte, Ian, and Coveney had all obliged; sometimes, together, from what he’d heard. The woman had three holes and knew how to use them.

Rye hated the term, but for lack of better words, she really was the pride whore. She had no other use.

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