Lupus Venandi

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Kieran burst into his Maddox's study with barely a knock. His father looked up from his laptop, startled, and then stood up.

"I know who has been doing the killings!" he almost shouted. "Lupus Venandi!"

"What? Kieran, slow down," his father said. "That group of humans has been extinct for centuries. Our kind wiped them out."

"I know, but listen, I was talking to Lyric about Rarities and they came up. Now what if, just like the Rarities do, Lupus Venandi holed up somewhere or one survived or--."

"Kieran, you're reaching," Maddox laughed. "I know you wish to put a stop to these killings downstate and figure it out, puzzles were always your favorite, but I think we can chalk this up to some vigilante killer with internet access."

"But how are they just killing werewolves?" he demanded, slapping his hands on the dark oak desk. "I know Detroit and other places downstate have high murder rates but for it to be mainly werewolves? Something isn't adding up."

His father sat back down, a puzzled look on his face, and clacked away at the laptop a moment. Kieran's chest rose and fell steadily and he could feel his heart racing in his chest. Something had to be going on aside from the vigilante thought. He felt it in his bones.

"You are right, Kieran," Maddox said. "About seventy five percent of the killing downstate is registered Packs. But that doesn't mean that Lupus Venandi is back in action," he interrupted when Kieran started to say that he knew it. "It could be much worse."

"What's worse than a killer cult?" he scoffed.

"Betrayal," his father said with a solemn tone. "The only way I can understand the kill rate being so high among werewolves is if a werewolf is doing it."

"Or giving out information."

It's the only way that makes sense, he thought. His mind was racing. It had to be that way. A wolf giving out information was the only thing that could explain the killings. A wolf who knew about Rarities.

"But if they know about Rarities," he said to himself as he started to pace the study, "then why attack regular old werewolves with things deadly to Rarities. And if they know about what kills them, surely they know that they are mostly to the North."

"Kieran," his father said, yanking him from his thoughts. "I seriously doubt it is a wolf betraying us. I need you to calm down. This isn't a puzzle just for you. I can go to the Summoning Council and tell them our thoughts on the matter. Let's allow them to have their human and werewolf detectives work on it, hmm?"

"Detectives? Right," he laughed. "I forgot the Summoning Council have people everywhere. Call them as soon as you can, Dad, please?"

"I will, Kieran," he chuckled. "Now, go find something constructive to pass your time."

He nodded and made his way back to his mate. She gave him a questioning look and he couldn't help but fill her in on everything due to those brown eyes.

"I think a wolf betraying everyone would make sense," she whispered. "Someone versed in the lore of Rarities but only to an extent. Or even a human. But I also agree with your dad, this isn't your problem to fix."

She grabbed his hands, he had once again been pacing, and pulled him over in front of her. For the briefest of moments, his devious side sparked up, and he had to close his eyes to make it leave. While their bond was growing, it hadn't hit that level and he knew it would be detrimental to try a move. Lyric stood up and ran her hands through his hair. He could have purred; instead what came out was a low growl and she pulled away.

"Sorry," he said. "That just felt too good."

"Good," she smirked, blushing a deep red. Her hands found his face again and she pecked his lips. Once, twice, then a third time and on that one she lingered. Kieran hummed and pulled her closer, trying to deepen the kiss. When his tongue just met her lips, she pulled away, and looked down.

"Sorry," he whispered.

"No, I'm sorry," she squeaked. "We are mates--."

"And our bond is coming along nicely," he purred. "But it's not that advanced yet and that's fine. There's nothing wrong with taking our time."

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Yes, of course!"

"Am I your first?" She turned such a dark red that she was almost purple.

"Oh," he started, feeling his face burn as well. "In many ways, yes. I've had two girlfriends in the past and we never got passed simple making out. They wanted to bed me because of my rank and I denied them. I . . . have always wanted to save that for my mate. To have sex out of love."

"You didn't love the others?" she asked, head cocking to one side.

"I did in many ways," he whispered, "but not like I love you." He felt his face burn and his eyes go wide. He almost clapped a hand over his mouth but the look on her face priceless.

"Did you just--?" she started before she began weeping. He pulled her to his chest.

"Yes, I did," he breathed. "I love you, Lyric."

"I . . . I l-love y-y-you t-too," she sobbed into him. "I n-never thought I'd s-say those words to-to-to . . ." she trailed off.

To your mate, he finished mentally for her. He tipped her face up and gave her a lingering kiss on her forehead. 

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