Page 44 of A Wolf's Treasure
It had been almost a week since Cedric had found him wandering the forest in the freezing rain, half out of his mind. He and Marc had gone back the next day and gotten Duncan’s Jeep. And they’d found a surprise waiting for them—one of Thomas’s wolves chained to a tree, half-alive and completely incoherent. He was being held in a storage unit in an empty building the pack owned out in the middle of nowhere. No one would find him. And from what they’d told him, the male wouldn’t be in any condition to scream for help for quite a while. Lucian and Brock went by every day or two and made sure he was clean and fed.
Had he done that? Chained him and left him out in the elements like that? It was the chain from his Jeep, but he couldn’t recall. He hardly remembered anything after…
After…
Tipping the bottle to his mouth, he took a long swallow. The alcohol did absolutely nothing to ease the tightness in his chest, however it still made him feel better on some subconscious level.
He’d told no one what had happened between him and Ryanne. What he thought had happened. For he didn’t think he could stand to see the looks on their faces. Especially Cedric. There would be pity in the alpha’s cold eyes, and Duncan wouldn’t to blame him for thinking that way. Cedric had taken him out of that place all those years ago. Had sat with him for days afterward until he’d started coming back to the real world. Somehow knowing exactly what to do to support Duncan without hovering. So, no, Duncan wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t believe it had truly, physically, happened, and wasn’t all in his head.
Hell, he didn’t believe it himself. Not really.
The odds were, she had fooked with him. Probably sent here by someone to do just that. Who? He didn’t know. None of the Faeries who had caught him during the war had lived through Cedric’s rage.
Setting the now empty bottle down with the others, Duncan scrubbed his face with his hands. He didn’t know what to think. What to believe. After Cedric had gotten him home and he’d calmed, Duncan had gotten up and studied himself in the mirror, looking for some sign it had truly happened. A scratch, a bruise, anything. But he was so busted up from his fights with Thomas’s wolves he couldn’t tell if any of the marks were from them or from her. A few hours later, most had healed like they’d never been there.
Now he was all wrapped up in his head. Not knowing what to believe. Too scared to trust what his instincts told him was true and too scared not to. His eyes wandered down to his lap, and he thought of taking himself in his hand for the fifteenth hundred time that day.
With a sigh, he tried to focus on the television, needing something to take his mind off of it. He’d probably never see the lass again in any case. For sure he’d frightened her off with all his ranting and raving.
A hard rap sounded on the door. Duncan turned his head, waiting for one of his brothers to come walking in, announcing themselves loudly and helping themselves to his stash of beer and snacks.
When no one entered, he frowned. Got up from the chair and started walking toward the door.
The scent of primrose hit him before he’d hit the foyer. Faint, but there.
His bare feet suddenly had a mind of their own. The closer he got, the faster he walked.
Flinging the door open so hard it would’ve smashed into the wall if not for the little stopper thingy, he stared at his guest with disbelief.
Ryanne stood there in jeans and a dark hoodie, the hood pulled low to hide her face. She pushed it back off her head and looked up at him, her brown eyes uncertain. “Hi,” she said softly.
Was he imagining her standing there? Was this part of her Faerie tricks? For why else, in all that was holy, would she be standing in the hallway outside his apartment where anyone could find her at any second? Looking so bonnie with her curls pulled up on top of her head and her dark eyes large in her wee face?
It had to be a trick. Of his own mind or hers.
There was only one way to tell for sure. Lifting his hand, he brushed her cheek with his fingertips.
She was truly there. Standing outside his door like it was the most normal thing in the world for her to come a visiting. And even if he wasn’t convinced, his wolf told him otherwise. The silly thing was turning happy circles in his gut and near howling with glee.
“What are ye doing here, lass?”
“I just wanted to check on you and make sure you were okay.” She tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “So, are you? Okay?”
Duncan blocked the doorway, staring down at her. He blinked a few times and gave his head a shake in case his senses were scrambled, but she was still there.
The smile fell from her face. “Maybe I should just go. But, um…for what it’s worth. I’m very sorry…for being me.” She shrugged one shoulder. “There’s nothing I can do about that, though. So…” Her eyes flicked to his and then away. “Yeah. Okay.”
She lifted her hand, whether to reach out or to wave, he didn’t know. Before she did either, she dropped it again and turned to leave.
If ye dinna ask her, ye will never ken.
He stepped through the doorway and out into the hall. “Wait. Ryanne, wait.”
His teeth ached, his jaw was clenched so tight, and he didn’t know how he would ever speak the words. But he needed to know. For his own sanity’s sake, if nothing else.
On a harsh breath, he forced them out. “Was that real?” He grimaced at the tone of his voice and made an effort to calm the churning in his stomach. Terrified as he was of the answer, the task was nearly impossible. “Th’ thing tha’ happened between ye and me. Was that…was that real?”
She lifted her head, searching his expression.
