Page 45 of A Wolf's Treasure
“Please, dinna look at me,” he pleaded, avoiding her eyes. “I can no’ stand the pity on yer face. Just…answer th’ question. Honestly, if ye will. Tha’s all I ask o’ ye.”
In his peripheral vision, he saw her eyes drop to the open “V” of his flannel shirt. “I assume you’re asking me about what happened in the Jeep. Before…um…before the wolves came.”
“Aye,” he whispered, so quietly he didn’t know if she’d heard him, and trying not to think of the breakdown she’d graciously skirted around.
“Can I come in?” she asked. “None of the others in your pack is here right now, but that’s not to say they won’t come back.”
Och. So distracted was he, he hadn’t even thought of the others. They would scent her right away. Immediately, he stepped back and held open the door, closing it behind her when she came inside. He didn’t invite her to sit down or offer her anything to eat or drink. And although the foyer was a nothing but a short hallway, she didn’t take liberties and try to go in or look around.
“Duncan.” Her brows came together as her eyes bounced around the small space, looking anywhere but at him. It was obvious she was trying very hard to abide by his wishes and found it hard.
As for him, he could only stare at the outlet on the wall by her left foot, tendrils of heat crawling up his neck and face. But he made himself stand there and listen to what she had to say.
“Whatever my people did to you, I am not them. And I was not there.” He felt, more than saw her eyes lift to his face, and she pressed the palm of one hand against the center of his chest and one against her own. “I swear it. I was not there. As soon as the war started, I went into hiding.”
On a sharp exhale, he asked, “Why?”
“Because I’d already seen what my father was doing. He was playing sides against each other, and pretending to be someone he’s not, and I didn’t trust him to care enough about me to respect my opinion about what he was doing. Turns out I was right.”
Drawn by the conviction in her voice, he met her stare.
Her chin rose, her hand now gripping the material of her hoodie in a tight fist. “I swear it to you, Duncan. May the gods strike me down right here if I’m lying.”
She fell silent, only the sound of their disconnected breathing filling the small space. He concentrated on her inhales and exhales, matching his rhythm to hers until the knots in his stomach loosened a bit.
“I know what they are capable of, especially during times of war.” Reaching for his hand, she held it between both of hers. Her palms were cool and soft. “Please correct me if I’m wrong, but from your reaction when you saw my eyes, I can only imagine you were caught and tortured during the war in the vilest of ways for a male.” She made a humorless sound. “A specialty of the elders in my tribe.”
He said nothing. He couldn’t. He could only concentrate on each breath she took. Craved each one like a lifeline, even though her very presence caused him pain. If he were able, he would laugh at the absurdity of the fates. At least he knew now this wasn’t dream, or some sort of Faerie trickery.
It couldn’t be, because it hurt so fookin’ much.
“I wasn’t there, Duncan,” she repeated again. “I swear it to you on my life.”
But could he believe her? Being that she was here to attempt to kill her father, the most powerful Faerie alive, he didn’t know how sincere her claim was.
But that was neither here nor there. “Was itreal, Ryanne? I need tae ken this!” The words rushed out of him.
She squeezed his hand between hers. “Yes, Duncan. It was real.”
His fingers tightened on hers. A harsh sob tore from his throat before he could stop it, and he sucked in a breath, holding it in until the burning in his lungs threatened to burst them apart. He stared at the ceiling, unable to look at her wee face. By some miracle, he managed to repress vocalizing his pain. Just barely.
The tears, however…
The tears, they came. He was too full of everything to fight them.
She didn’t call attention to his outburst. Instead, she kept talking, and for that he was very grateful. “There is nothing wrong with you, Duncan. You’re still a virile male. What they do, it’s nothing but a mind fuck. Something they’re very good at, unfortunately.” One of her hands released his to touch his chest. “You are a strong, virile male. And I had the soreness between my legs for days afterward to prove it.”
He heard the teasing in her voice. But also the honesty. And if he were anything but a complete wreck at the moment, his chest would swell with pride.
But Duncan just didn’t have it in him. Despite the warm touch of the female before him, and—now that he was paying attention—the heaviness of his balls and growing tightness of his jeans brought on by her nearness, he still couldn’t help but wonder if this was nothing but another life. A mystical life that only came to him when he was unconscious. And soon he would wake up, sweating and unable to breathe, the last remnants of a scream vibrating on his lips.
“But…there have been others.” He felt a right fool, carrying on like this with someone who could very well be finishing off what her people started. But who else would know the answers to his questions other than someone who knew how the Dark Fae worked? “There have been others. And I’ve tried. Human females. Shifter females. I’ve tried, and nothing…nothing happens. Nothing ever happens.” He pulled his hand from hers and pressed both palms against the sides of his skull. He was making no sense at all, was he?
Ryanne took a step closer to him, and now he could feel the heat exuding from her body. Every breath he inhaled through his nose was filled with the scent of primrose. And when she spoke, he could smell the sweet citrus notes of an orange she’d eaten. “It didn’t work because those women didn’t know how to pull you out of your head. They didn’t know what to do for you.”
Something darker, muskier, filled his nose. Erotic images of Ryanne, naked and shameless and gyrating on his lap, flashed through his mind.
A low growl rumbled deep in his throat, and one corner of her mouth pulled up as her eyes flashed with colors. Duncan reached out and touched her jaw with his fingertips. The wanting of this one was an ache that went all the way to his bones.
