Page 54 of Relics of the Wolf

“Eventually. It took a few tries.” Duncan glanced at his wrists.

The scars I’d noticed before also drew my eye. I’d wondered what had made them, and handcuffs had crossed my mind. But, from their width, they must have been more like shackles. Imagining Duncan strung up in a mad scientist’s dungeon made me wince with sympathy.

“It wasn’t easy to get away, as Abrams knew intimately what I was and my capabilities. He had prepared his abode and laboratory well. But eventually, I got my opportunity. And I left to be my own man—my ownwolf—and see a world I’d only read about in books. I was also intensely curious and wanted to meet more of my kind. But that never went well. The werewolves of this time don’t knowwhat’sdifferent about me, but they all sense that I am not like them. They either hate or fear me—often both.”

That wariness remained in his eyes. Was this why he hadn’t told me? He thought I would judge him?

Hell, it wasn’t as ifIcould judge anyone. Not an hour ago, I’d completely lost my faculties, and it hadn’t been the first time.

“I’ve been driven out of many countries by werewolves and others with paranormal senses, those who realize what I am.” Duncan smiled without humor. “You see,I’vebeen called a freak, and worse things, many times, so, as I said, I understand completely why you’d want to take that potion. It crossed my mind to wonder if it would work on me, but I can’t imagine giving up the wolf. I love that part of myself, running through the moonlit woods and hunting, the smell of nature, the excitement of the chase, of the takedown.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, as if he were imagining escaping to the wilderness at that very moment.

I rested a hand on his arm. “What happened to the scientist? Did you slip away, or did he come after you?”

I almost asked if the guy wasstillafter Duncan, but he had to be dead by now. All this had happened decades ago.

“The night I escaped, it was after an argument, and I was angry. I lashed out, and… in the process, I burned down his laboratory—half his castle was destroyed. He was inside at the time and died, his body charred to a crisp.” Duncan grimaced.

“He had acastle?” I asked, focusing on the less grisly aspect of the story.

Duncan probably didn’t want to dwell on how his escape had resulted in the death of his creator. But his creator had been hiscaptor. I couldn’t feel sorry for the passing of someone like that.

“Well, this was back in Europe. Castles are easier to come by over there.” Duncan managed a more genuine smile, though that concern lingered in his eyes, like he worried I would realize at any moment that he was a freak. “As to the rest, I didn’t mean to kill him at the time, but I don’t regret ending his ambitions. The things he wanted me to do… Some of the things Ididdo…” Duncan shook his head and stared at the coffee table, though I doubted he saw anything on it.

“Have you told your story to many people?” I asked, though I thought I already knew the answer. After all, before now, he’d been evasive with me.

“No.” He returned his gaze to mine. “After tonight, I thought you might understand. One werewolf freak to another.” He smiled wryly to make it clear he was using the word because others had applied it to him. To us. He didn’t see me that way.

My belly fluttered with an emotion I couldn’t quite name. Nervousness? Anticipation? Attraction? Maybe all of those things.

He lifted a hand to trace my jaw, and a tingle of desire swept through me, making me want to scoot closer to him on the couch. Making me wanthim.

“Your blood, your lineage, the power that is so great that it threatens your control,” he murmured. “You must also be closer to those ancient werewolves than most are.”

“I could ask my mother, but I don’t think glaciers and DNA were involved in my birth.” I scooted closer, the robe drooping and my lips parting. We’d kissed before, and in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him again. And more.

He leaned forward, his hungry eyes promising he wanted the same.

As our lips met, his fingers trailed from my jaw and down the side of my neck, their teasing touch rousing my entire body. They slipped under my robe, caressing my bare breast, as if he’d longed to do exactly that since he walked in.

I gripped his shoulders and leaned so close I was almost in his lap. His masculine scent mingled with that of the wilds, and his power enveloped me, arousing me.

A firm knock sounded at the door, and reality rushed back in—and the reminder that I needed to deal with it.

With great reluctance, I drew back, our lips parting. “I need to answer that, to go out there and make sure we don’t both end up arrested.”

“I know,” Duncan said, his gaze holding mine. His dark eyes were intense, and I knew without a doubt that he wanted to ignore the door, sweep me into his arms, and carry me to the bedroom.

I licked my lips, wishing we could do that. Instead, I said, “You probably need to let go of my boob.”

“I don’t want to.” A hint of humor replaced some of his intensity.

“I don’t want you to either.”

“Good.” He gave me a final stroke before kissing me and scooting back. He swallowed and rose from the couch. “I think you’ll live, patient.”

“Thanks,” I said quietly, my gaze on him as I pulled my robe over my shoulders and cinched it closed.

“Luna?” came Bolin’s call through the door. “The police want to talk to you.”

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