Hunted Mate (Stalked Mates #1) Read Online Loki Renard

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Funny Tags Authors: Series: Stalked Mates Series by Loki Renard
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Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71314 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
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He is a massive beast in every way. His silver-tinged hair flows thickly from his head, and he has light blue eyes that make me feel like I’m at risk of floating through them to another dimension. I can see how he managed to father pups with so many females. His physical attractiveness is just one facet of his charisma. But there is also intellect in his eyes, and animal magnetism in his every move, and… if I had not already met Gray, I might be tempted to swoon.

“Gray. Good to see you, son,” he says, his voice warm, but his body language somewhat reserved. I can feel the rift between these two men.

“Hello,” I say, trying not to sound as shy as I am. “I am Calista.”

“Oh, I know who you are,” he says.

“Father, this is Calista,” Gray says, getting on the introduction bandwagon a little behind schedule. “Calista, this is Orion Dulac, alpha of New Orleans.”

There’s reverence in Gray’s voice as he introduces his father formally. I look between the two men, and discover that Gray takes after his father quite strongly. He doesn’t have the old beast element to him, but they share facial structure, and temperament, I suspect.

“Sorry I’ve been such an inconvenience,” I say, trying to be polite. It’s a far cry from the way I spoke to Karl. I spent as much time as I could antagonizing the hell out of him. I don’t want to do that with Orion. He has far too much power, and I actually think I’d feel almost guilty if I forced him to sentence me to death.

“Inconvenience is one word. Come,” he says. “You must be hungry. You’ve been flying, and the food on those planes is never any good, even the private ones.”

“Yeah, what’s up with airplane food,” I say, channeling a nineties comic for a brief moment.

“Small,” he says. “Tasteless.”

Neither of those descriptors can be applied to the food that awaits us in a nearby dining room. The alpha has ensured a full spread has been put on, with all manner of local delicacies. There’s shrimp remoulade and crawfish beignets, not to mention oysters Rockefeller. A duck jambalaya makes up the main dish, with buttermilk cornbread on the side. It is all served on delightful original china and fine cloth napkins. Simple, but delicious and elegant.

“This is the best meal I have had in months, if not years,” I compliment my host.

“That’s because you eat junk food constantly,” Gray says. “If it doesn’t come in a takeout box, you won’t eat it.”

I shoot him a stony look. I’m trying to make a good impression. I’m glad I put something nice on before coming. I’ve gone for a pink dress that falls below the knee, and matching kitten heels. I almost wish I’d dressed up a little more, but I guess this is good enough. It’s in keeping. I’ve been taught to always be in keeping.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the meal,” Orion says.

Karl is present too, though he’s barely said a word. It’s strange. Very strange. He’s either deferring to his father, or his father has no idea what an asshole his son is.

“I wanted to meet with you, because you’ve been quite a unique concern,” he says. “I’ve heard what happened in New York when they tried to handle you in the traditional manner.”

“That is a very laidback way of saying they tried to put me in a cage and slaughter me like an animal,” I say. There’s a slight edge in my tone. It’s a pity. I sip a little fresh lemonade to try to get the taste of deadly betrayal out of my mouth.

“Yes, and usually that would be effective. The end of the matter. But you refused to die, and it has been pointed out that your death in a warehouse would almost certainly lead to the kind of investigation that went all the way up to the federal level. People of your ilk do not merely go missing. It’s not like normal people, who can drop off the face of the planet any given Tuesday and hardly anybody cares.”

“I do have certain privileges,” I admit in a significant understatement.

“Yes, you do, and why not,” he says. “Accidents of birth must be honored. I want to welcome you to my home. And I want to encourage your research. There are libraries here containing information and writings from some of the earliest of our kind. In these walls you will be able to finally know everything you have spent the better part of a lifetime trying to learn.”

“Really?” My jaw drops. “That’s so amazing of you, but can I ask why?”

“My son has a tender spot for you, and as we’ve already said, killing you is not an option. Here is what I am offering. A place to stay here for the short term, full access to my libraries and to my mind. I will answer any questions you have. In return, you will stay here for several months at least, and you will take an oath of silence, a binding oath that will require you to never share any of what you learn. I know you come from an honorable family. Are you also an honorable person, Calista Hart?”


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