The Hunger (The Lycans #3) Read Online Jenika Snow

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, Paranormal, Romance, Shape Shifters, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Lycans Series by Jenika Snow
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 74538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 248(@300wpm)
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I didn’t want to leave her alone, but I had to hunt.

The estate I’d taken her to had been in my family for centuries, one that was almost on its last legs. It was the property the estate sat on that was valuable to my kind and family, but I wished we hadn’t let it go as bad as it was, because keeping my mate comfortable and in luxury was something I desperately wanted.

But as it was, the home hadn’t been used in decades, probably far longer than that. It was a forgotten relic from a different time long ago. It hadn’t been cleaned since so long ago that dust was a thick layer on the white sheets that covered any and all standing items.

It also wasn’t stocked, not with perishable or nonperishable items. Even if there’d been cans of food, bags of rice and beans, the items would have been long deteriorated.

As far as I knew, none of my family had visited this part of McGregor land since before I was even born. And that’s why I picked it. Although maybe it would be one of the first places they looked. Maybe they’d leave me the fuck alone.

I didn’t know the answers to any of those questions, and as I thought about staying here, I lifted my hand and placed it over the talisman that hung around my neck. The chain was long, the circular gold resting between my pectoral muscles. The metal had warmed to my body temperature almost as soon as I put it on, but the heavy weight was a constant presence.

I made slow circles around it, feeling the gouges and tally marks that seemed to be etched all around the center. I didn’t know the pattern, didn’t know its significance or if it even had a meaning.

Maybe it was all the blood promises that had been made over the centuries, maybe since the very first Otherworld creature had been in existence.

None of that really mattered. The only thing that was important was that I had made a blood promise that would forever be tied to my bloodline. I had been a little surprised she’d ask for something such as that. Usually that was reserved to the more evil sections of the Otherworld, the degenerates, the ones who had no morals.

I didn’t think Magdalena’s essence was evil, had never sensed that from her. Because if we had sensed it, we wouldn't have done business with her. And realistically, we would have taken her out to have one less Otherworlder in existence.

But maybe she was desperate… as desperate as I’d been when it came to my female.

I set the empty containers I’d found on the counter and braced my hands around the lip of the worn top, my claws scraping against the stone. I closed my eyes and breathed in and out, hearing the sound of metal on metal as my mate tugged at the bonds. I hated restraining her. It ate at me, tore up my gut, made me feel like a bastard, but then again, I guess I was. I was keeping my mate, the most important person in my entire life, essentially a prisoner.

I was just thankful there were still some things stocked up. Provisions to gather water from the well. Utensils and plates, knives that were no doubt dulled with age and time.

There were blankets, some candles, and the woodshed out back was stocked with logs. I’d checked as soon as I'd gotten here, knowing my little female would need to stay warm—warmer than my Lycan needed.

With a growl of impatience and annoyance, I snatched the jugs off the counter and headed outside to the well. Maybe if I could show my female I could take care of her, that she was safe with me, that she wouldn’t have to worry about anything, then it would help ease her worries. Maybe it would help get rid of her fears.

God, I wanted her to not be afraid of anything that concerned me. I wanted her to look upon me and see her male.

Or maybe it was all a lost cause. Maybe she’d forever hate me because I’d forced her hand.

17

Darragh

I didn’t know how long I’d been handcuffed to the bed, but my wrists hurt from all the tugging I was doing, and I had to pee. The latter was starting to get annoying, as I was afraid to call out for help, but also because I didn’t want my captor to come back in.

Is that really your truth though?

I narrowed my eyes at that little voice that echoed in my head. There was no doubt in my mind my captor was dangerous. His body was enormous, and the strength he held was like aggressive tendrils snaking out from him, a silent warning to any who thought they could overpower him.


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