Page 13 of A Wolf's Treasure
Something hit the windshield, and she jumped.
“It’s just a pinecone, lass. Knocked down by the rain.”
She watched drops hit the windshield, nodding. But he could hear her heart pounding and her breath whooshing in and out of her lungs at a rapid rate. Tentatively, he reached over and placed his hand over hers, still tight on the hand grip. “Ryanne, I swear tae ye, I will no’ let them harm ye. I will protect ye with my life if th’ need arises.”
Her head tilted, little lines furrowing the smooth skin between her eyebrows. “Why would you do that?”
Why, indeed? He didn’t know, but he felt it with certainty all the way down to his bones. “Yer…” He started to say something along the lines of her being a female, and therefore needing his protection. But then he stopped. That wasn’t right. She didn’t need his protection. He knew firsthand what a Fae lass was capable of. Although three wolves at once would be a bit much, she could easily outrun them if she had a head start.
Duncan thought about that for a minute.
Heat crept up his neck to burn his cheeks. Had she been playing with him? Allowing him to play the big, strong male and lead her to safety? “I dinna ken,” he ground out. “Ye obviously dinna need my help.”
She gave him a funny look. “No, I probably didn’t. But it was nice to have it anyway.”
If his face burned before, now it was so hot he raised a hand to touch the skin of his cheek, just to check if it was melting from the bone. He’d acted a fool. Involving himself in something he shouldn’t have, when what he should’ve been doing was hightailing it out of the club and reporting back to Cedric.
Conflict rumbled deep in his chest, and he rubbed the center of it. But what if something had happened to the lass? What if she wasn’t able to get around the humans? What if she’d been seen as the supernatural she is? Or worse, what if the wolves had caught her before she got out? She could be lying in a ditch on the side of the road, the life seeping out of her…
Och. He was turning into his maw!
The gods rest her soul.
“Duncan.”
He pulled himself from his thoughts. It was hard to look at her, feeling foolish as he was, but somehow, he managed. “Aye?”
The smile that lit her face was tiny and sweet and stopped his heart completely. “Thank you. For helping me get out of the club and to safety.”
Words tumbled around on his tongue, but his throat closed and he was unable to utter any of them. So, instead, he just nodded.
“Do you scent those wolves? Are they anywhere near us?”
He turned his nose to the window and breathed deep. Turning back to her, he shook his head.
She unbuckled her seat belt. Leaning toward him, she caught his eyes. “It’s very, very important you tell no one about me. No one,” she emphasized. “Not even your alpha. Okay?”
Overcome by the sight and scent and warmth of her so close to him, Duncan nodded. “Aye, lass. No one will know ye were here.”
“Thank you,” she whispered. Then she pressed a kiss to his still-burning cheek. Before he could regain the ability to do more than blink at her, she opened the door and hopped out into the rain.
Duncan jumped out his side and ran around the front of the Jeep. To do what? Say something to make her stay? To see if he would ever see her again? But she had left him as she had before, running away into the forest faster than his eye could track her. The rain that kept them hidden from the wolves also washing away her scent.
Arrows tore through his chest, until he was near doubled over from the loss.
Chapter 4
Marc walked into the apartment he shared with Bronaugh. Since moving in with him, she hadn’t been shy about making the place her own. Tapestries hung behind the couch and covered the walls of their bedroom. Giant scenes of trees and birds and landscapes.
Setting down the bag of groceries, he scented the air. The smell of meadowsweet flowers tickled his nose and his body instantly hardened, sensing his mate was near. “Bronaugh, lass? Where are ye?”
The kitchen and living room were empty, as was the guest bathroom. He left the groceries on the counter and went to the bedroom, his instincts now on high alert.
Something was wrong.
As he passed through the living room, he flicked a glance at a new hanging on the wall—a black raven surrounded by storm clouds. His steps paused for just a moment. The art piece was dark, too dark for his liking.
An uneasy feeling slithered up his spine.
