When An Alpha Purrs(6)

By: Eve Langlais

“Oh please. As if that’s something new. We both know that many men feel that way. Look at most of your cousins. And what about you? I know a certain young lady who insists on having only a certain aunt trim and color her hair.”

Kira fidgeted. “That’s different. Aunt Fiona is a master when it comes to highlights.”

“Now who’s being sexist?”

“You know I called you because you’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I am. Which is why I’m pointing out the obvious. You don’t like this guy because he’s assertive.”


“Whatever. Yet we both know you need someone strong willed or you’ll become bored.”

“I’d say there’s a lot to be said for boring. Especially since Gregory.”

Eep. She’d said it aloud. He-who-should-not-be-named. A shiver went through her—as her ex probably walked over the grave he had planned for her—and she resisted an urge to yank the curtains to the apartment shut and check the lock on the door.

Her mother made a noise. “Grr. Don’t talk to me about that man. He fooled us all, baby. But that doesn’t mean every man is like him. There are good ones out there. Just look at your father and his brothers. Even your cousins. They would never hurt or disrespect a woman like that.”

No, they wouldn’t, but once punched, literally, often threatened, and her hair salon burned down in suspicious circumstances meant Kira was more than twice shy. She was mad, and scared, mostly because she feared the violence from her ex-boyfriend would spill over onto the ones she loved. “Well, it doesn’t matter now. Even if the big guy was flirting and hinting at a date, I’m pretty sure he’s changed his mind now after what I did to his precious hair.”

After exchanging a few more tidbits of news, Kira hung up with her mother and let out a sigh. Here not even a week and already in trouble. With a man.

Could things get any worse?

Chapter Three

Things couldn’t be any worse. Not only was a huge hunk of his hair missing from his precious mane, but Arik had lost her trail.

Him, a master hunter, evaded by a human.

His lion hung his head in shame.

It occurred to him, as he trudged back to the barbershop—with its striped spinning pole that always made him want to stop so his kitty could paw at it—that he should demand the folks working there cough up her address.

He could probably intimidate them into conceding. It didn’t take much to have humans spill their guts, especially when he used his voice and stare on them. However, while he could easily snare her location, he’d lose his element of surprise, as they’d probably warn her.

He much preferred a sneak attack.

His steps bypassed the turn to the shop and, instead, headed to the rental parking lot that held his car.

Best to pretend he wouldn’t retaliate. There was no benefit in rattling any cages for info, as it meant she would realize she’d gotten to him, that she’d managed to ruffle his fur.


Nothing fazed Arik. He was known as unflappable.

He was also wily. There were other ways to hunt a hiding mouse. Of course, before he could track her down via electronic methods, first he had to run the gauntlet at his office.

Did anyone dare say a word when he entered in his costly, Armani three-piece suit sporting a ball cap he bought from a street vendor, he who never wore a hat of any kind?

Curious gazes might have followed his path, but not a titter followed him. No one had big enough balls.

Except for Hayder, his second-in-command—the smartass—who trailed him into his office.

“Dude, what is up with the hat? When did you suddenly become a baseball fan?”

“I’d rather not discuss it,” Arik said through tight lips and gritted teeth as his fingers tapped away, logging onto Facebook and doing a search on Dominic. Surely if the man had an account, it would be linked to his family members, including one feisty woman he needed to find.

To eat.

No. Angry or not, one didn’t eat their enemy. It was uncivilized. And, yes, he intentionally misinterpreted his lion. He didn’t even want to start thinking about the certain eating his other side had in mind.

There would be no cream lapping for her.

Or him.

Meowr. Such a disappointed sound.

A throat cleared. “Earth to Arik. Come in, boss.”

With brows drawn, Arik glared at his beta. “What?”

“I was asking what had your boxers in a knot.”

“You know I go commando.”

“Usually, but something obviously has your panties in a twist. Spill.”

Oh, he spilled all right. Arik yanked off the hat and flung it against the wall and then swiveled his chair to get it over with.