Hunted

By KD Jones

CristOF is a renowned tracker for the Kiljorn Nation. There isn’t anything that he can’t find. So when he’s tasked with investigating suspicious activity on the far side of Kiljor, he takes the mission without question. He’s faced battles and hunted dangerous creatures, but nothing could prepare him for the riskiest adventure yet—falling in love.

Tera Kincaid is an elementary-school science teacher fascinated with other worlds. She heads up the new school system on Kiljor, which will incorporate the children expected to come from the new foster program that Katiera and Kiljor are starting. Her adventure takes a turn when she meets a sexy alien tracker who makes her heart race and her body roar with need.

Soon the predator becomes they prey.
Danger surrounds them, and only by working together can they survive being HUNTED.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KD Jones
• Release date: Jul 29, 2018
• ISBN: 9781943738489

KD Jones

KD Jones has been a huge fan of both romance novels and science fiction novels since she was 16 years old. Her favorite television shows growing up were Star Trek and Doctor Who. When not writing, she can usually be found curled up on the couch with a good book, working on her hobby of photography, or spending time with her family.

Book preview

1

CristOF ran swiftly but quietly through the jungle, making sure not to let his prey hear his footsteps. The smell of the jungle enveloped him, familiar and welcoming. He closed his eyes and used his enhanced senses to take in his environment. Most Katierans and Kiljorns had great senses, but those in his family had mastered them to a much greater degree.

He could smell the dampness of the ground and knew it had rained at least three hours ago. The rain combined with fallen leaves to make a warm, enticing scent. The leaves were of a spectrum of colors, ranging from orange to blue. Each tree had a trunk as wide as three adult warriors and as tall as the buildings in the city. The trees had a distinct smell to them as well. Each tree had its own scent, unique to the individual: some sweet, others bitter. The birds high in the branches above chirped happily, but when a large predator moved close by, they quieted down. He felt more at home in the jungles than anywhere else on Kiljor.

Continuing his pursuit, he remembered the tracking and hunting lessons his grandfather had given him so many years ago when he was just a boy. His grandparents had raised him most of his life. His mother had died in childbirth, and his father was killed in battle when he was five. He had no memory of his mother and very few memories of his father; his grandparents had been everything to him. They showed him pictures of his parents often and told him stories, making sure he knew them. His grandmother was the mother figure he needed, and his grandfather taught him what it meant to be a warrior and a hunter for his people.

They had been a close, loving family. He was alone now—both of his grandparents had passed on to be with the Goddess—but he would always be grateful to them for all that they’d done for him. He loved and missed them each and every day.

He’d grown up in Siladas, a remote part of Kiljor where the jungle met the ocean. Only a handful of families lived that far out. It was primitive but beautiful, just as the Goddess intended. This kind of terrain was home to him, and the place where he felt the closest to his grandparents. Today he was hunting one of the deadliest creatures on his planet: a fixel. Commander TylOR’s mate Lizzie had once told him that the Kiljorn fixel tasted like Earth’s chicken. He didn’t have any idea what chicken tasted like, but he planned on making a fixel stew with his catch for the day.

The thought of the female from Earth made him lean back against the trunk of the tree he was perched in. He’d last visited the prime city of Kiljorn a few months ago, with the intent of finding a mate among one of the Earth females who had moved to Kiljor from Katiera.

The Kiljorn people originated from the Katieran nation, but had separated many years ago due to conflicts that arose from a viral attack by their old enemy, the Morins. Many decades ago, before he was even born, the Morins attacked the Katieran people with a virus that was responsible for not only killing a good number of his people, but which also caused permanent mutations within them. The mutations ranged from slight to extreme, and some of them affected the reproductive ability of many Katierans. The Kiljorns were not the only ones who had separated themselves from the Katierans; those with the most extreme mutations founded their own nation on the Colonial planet. It was only recently that the three nations had come together in a joint effort to fight against the return of the Morins.

His own family had suffered a mutation, which had passed down from his grandfather, to his father, to him. His family’s mutation involved enhanced senses, even more pronounced than those his people already had. CristOF could hunt his prey for miles without getting tired, and in the dark his eyes were able to see as if it was daytime. He climbed trees easily. He could leap from tree to tree, he was able to walk with no sound to alert the enemy, and could scent blood and determine easily what creature it came from. These mutations made him into the best tracker of his people; no one hunted as well as he did

A sound from a few feet ahead of him made him freeze in place. He held his breath, waiting. There, by the tree to his right, a small white furry creature chewed on a leafy plant. The crunch of dried leaves on the ground made the little white bobbikit sprint off through the brush. A much larger black creature sprang out and gave chase—the fixel. It would be his.

That was the moment CristOF had been waiting patiently for. He followed after the animals, two long blades held in each of his hands. He could hear the instructions his grandfather had given him on his very first hunt, directing him:

Move softly. Wait, and move when your prey moves. Always keep to the shadows to hide your presence. Never forget to keep your eyes on your prey at all times.

I will, Grandfather.

Timing was everything: he had to be patient, steady, and ready to strike when the time came. He moved closer, toward the edge of the forest, making his footsteps silent and undetectable. When the black creature sprang, he made his own move to intercept.

The animal almost had its talons in the bobbikit, but CristOF didn’t care about the smaller creature. He was after the fixel. The fixel was three feet tall with all its feet on the ground. It had six legs, and the front two had three-inch claws. The creature was covered with thick, dark fur and under that was an inch of tough hide to protect itself from other predators. Its teeth were as long and sharp as its talons. Both the talons and the teeth were deadly; he would have to use extreme caution.

CristOF lunged at the large black fixel, hitting it in the side and knocking it over. The fixel immediately got back up on all six paws, making a sound that was half growl, half screech. The noise was fearsome and had the bobbikit scuttling away to freedom.

Now CristOF faced the dangerous fixel before him. They were on equal footing—or at least fair ground. Apart from having six feet to his two, beast was three times his weight, with talons and sharp pointy teeth. One wrong move on his part and he would be the meal this evening.

His grandfather had warned him to never take his eyes off his prey or his enemy, but to be patient and observant, looking for signs of weakness or a moment when his opponent was distracted. His teachings were just as true on the battlefield as they were in the jungles.

The fixel screeched again and shuffled its front paws in the dirt, trying to intimidate CristOF. He didn’t respond or run; instead he moved carefully in a circular pattern, keeping his eyes on the animal. He knew better than to move too quickly. More of his grandfather’s words of wisdom came to him:

Don’t rush. Let your prey make the first move, then you make yours.

The fixel lurched forward, raising its front talons to take a swipe at him. CristOF took a step back, easily avoiding the sharp claws. He raised both of his hands, which held his two long, curved hunting blades. Each one was about half the length of his arm.

My turn, he whispered as he jumped forward, swinging his blades.

He stepped forward as the beast moved back. The fixel was older and more cunning; it wouldn’t make this easy on CristOF. He dodged the talons and swiped out with his blades, cutting the creature and making it bleed. The fixel made to run away, but he blocked its path, cornering it.

The animal raised its head and screeched louder in anger and pain. It swiped at CristOF again and again. He kept out of reach of its lunges but continued to block its escape, allowing the creature to use up most of its strength and energy. They battled over and over, but CristOF was an experienced hunter and he never lost his prey. He fought the fixel until it had suffered too many wounds to recover. At that point he quickly ended its life, so that it would no longer suffer.

I give thanks to the Goddess KatiERi for the sustenance I receive, and ask that this creature’s life force is renewed. His people rarely hunted like this, preferring to eat vegetables, fruits, and protein supplements. If they need something more filling, they fished the waters of Kiljor. In his opinion, though, nothing beat a good stew with fresh meat. Of course, the amount of meat from this one fixel was too much for him to eat alone. He would take only what he needed and donate the rest to a few families that lived nearby. This amount of meat would be enough to feed them for several months.

It took very little time for him to clean the fixel and get his stew going. It was delicious and satisfying. Several hours later, he had packed up the rest of the meat and was ready to leave when his comm link beeped. For a moment, he considered not answering it. Then he immediately felt ashamed for even considering that. His honor would not allow him to shirk his responsibilities.

He knelt down and pulled his comm link out, placing it in his ear. He answered with his code name. This is the Hunter.

Hunter, we need you to report to the prime city. Top-level security.

He stilled. Top level? That would mean there was a threat either to the prime family or to Kiljor itself. Was it the Morins? Had they returned and attacked Kiljor again?

I understand. I’ll be there by first light.

Ending his communication, he stood up. He had just enough time to drop off the meat with the families before returning to his shuttle. He would set the controls for automatic flight and get a few hours of sleep before reporting to his commander. He answered only to Commander TylOR and Prime Leader KadEN. Whatever the security risk was, he would take the mission and serve his people as he always did. Maybe one day, if the Goddess KatieRI blessed him, he would settle down with a mate, but that time was not now, not today.

2

This part of the building is where the smaller children—young—will take their lessons, Tera Kincaid said nervously as she escorted Prima Lindsey and Prime Leader KadEN around the partially built school. Construction had just gotten underway, but this would be one of the best schools she had helped plan and oversee. It was exciting and a little intimidating to be presenting a rough, unfinished building to the people who’d hired her to do the job. It was hard to tell by their expressions if they liked what they saw or hated it.

Prima Lindsey was friendly and gave her a reassuring smile. She was a pretty woman with golden brown hair, and completely human. Her husband—mate—Prime Leader KadEN was a tall, dark-haired and well-built Kiljorn, but he was also very quiet and intimidating. His eyes seemed to see right through her.

KadEN frowned. "The children will be separated from each other by age group. That is different from how Kiljorn schooling is arranged. Some of our children were taught from home; while others were placed in training rooms based on their knowledge and ability,