a Wolf's treasure (ebook)

She's the treasure he never thought he'd find…

Shifter Duncan Kincaid enjoys dancing. Country dancing to be precise. After all, the lasses love nothing more than a man who can swing them around a dance floor. And that's the other thing Duncan loves- the lasses. A wink and a smile is all it takes to have a partner for the night, until a Faerie with dark curls and brazen curves throws him off his game and shakes him to his core. He's a danger to her life, and a risk she's willing to take.

With his I-know-what-you-look-like-naked green eyes, sexy brogue, and cocky grin, Duncan is the type of wolf Ryanne wouldn't normally waste her time with for more than a night. But underneath the playful exterior, she senses a haunting sadness, one that calls to her own dark soul and distracts her from her purpose.

The murder will just have to wait.

Duncan’s blood raced, burning through his veins with a shot of fear, a spark of  excitement, and a twinge of longing, though he hadn’t felt any of those things in a very  long time. 

She was stalking him. 

The lass with the dark curls. The one he’d seen that day he was with Lucian.  The wee lass was stalking a werewolf.  

A wide grin split his face as he lathered his jaw and neck for a shave. It would do  him no good to meet her properly for the first time with a day’s worth of whiskers. He  rinsed his hands and wet his razor, then began scraping the stubble from his left cheek.  

As he shaved, he thought back to the first time he’d noticed he was being trailed.  After everything had been sorted out with Lucian and Keelin, Duncan had decided to  give the pup a little bit of space. Lucian was maturing nicely, and thanks to his new mate,  that explosive temper of his was finally cooling to a simmer.  

Of course, he—Duncan—had helped with that by annoying Lucian on a regular  basis for years until he no longer had such a hair trigger. Not that he would ever receive  any thanks for it.  

But he was digressing.  

Unlike Lucian, Duncan didn’t feel the need to run wild every night. Older than the  pup by many years—though a wee bit younger than Cedric, the almighty alpha—he was  quite comfortable in his skin. And around humans.  

What he did love to do, was dance. Country dancing, to be precise. Something his  pack mates probably weren’t aware of. Not because he was hiding it, but because they  were a bunch of self-centered bastards when it came to their free time, preferring to spend  it with their Faerie mates than with him. 

All except Cedric. But as the alpha, he’d made it very clear long ago that he 

preferred to spend his downtime alone with his Guinness beer and the latest Netflix series  he was binge watching. 

Duncan had taken an interest after meeting Keegan when he’d come up from Texas.  That alpha knew his way around a Two-Step, and Duncan had been immediately  romanced by the music and etiquette of the dances—the Two Step, the Waltz, Swing,  Line Dance…hell, even the Polka. He’d taken a few free lessons, watched some videos  on YouTube, and now made it a point to sweep the lasses off their feet at least twice a  week. Three times, if he could manage to sneak away. Human lasses loved nothing more  than a male who could swing them around a dance floor. 

And this was how he’d found out he was being followed by the lass in the forest.  The one he’d never thought to see again. 

All had been quiet on the Faerie front for a few days, so with his alpha’s permission  to take a break from patrols, he’d climbed into Vina—his Jeep—and headed south to a  nightclub he often frequented called Risky Business. Or maybe it was Risky Boys. Risky  Beers? No, that couldn’t be right. Duncan stopped shaving and thought about it a  moment. The name really didn’t matter, though, so he shrugged and continued with his  task.  

What did matter, was that he was being followed.  

At first, it had been nothing more than a tickle on the back of his neck one night  when he was at the club. Like the tip of a feather barely sliding over his skin. But over  the next few hours, as he’d hit the dance floor with a few lasses he saw there on a regular  basis, that tickle had become a scratch. And by the time he’d finally left the club,  sweating his arse off and jonesing for a cheeseburger smothered with bacon, that scratch  had begun to burn until his hackles rose in warning. As he’d weaved his way the few  blocks to his Jeep, Duncan had glanced around, all casual-like, trying to pinpoint the  source. 

She hadn’t bothered to hide when he’d spotted her down the street. Hadn’t even  attempted to stay out of his sight. Instead, she’d stood with her wee booted feet planted  right in the middle of the sidewalk, arms crossed beneath full breasts that made his mouth  water with the urge to bite into something other than a burger. 

The force of that hunger had taken him so unawares, his knees had weakened and  he’d nearly stumbled. 

Her head had tilted to the side in a curious pose as she’d watched him falter, and  Duncan had been struck anew by the luxurious look of the dark curls falling loosely over  her shoulder. 

Pausing with his hand on the door handle of his Jeep, he’d stared back, too  dumbstruck by the oddness of the situation to think straight.  

He knew those curls. He’d seen them before. 

After a few seconds, her arms had dropped back to her sides. With a bored look,  she’d turned and wandered all leisurely-like into the alley beside the dance hall.  Unsure of what to do, Duncan had stared at the spot where she’d last stood. Should  he follow the lass? Get in Vina and go home? Had he really seen her or had one of his  dance partners dropped something in his whiskey when he wasn’t looking? The possibilities were endless. 

In the end, he’d gotten into his Jeep and headed home, convinced he’d imagined  the entire situation. But mostly because he was fookin’ “knackered”, as his vampire  friend, Aiden, would say, and just wanted to eat and get some sleep. 

However, over the next few weeks, as he’d run patrols around the diameter of  Cedric’s territory and went about other menial daily tasks, the lass had appeared another  sixteen times. 

And Duncan no longer thought she was only in his imagination. 

The lass would appear out of nowhere, sitting up high on a branch in the forest as  he ran beneath in his wolf form, swinging her legs without a care in the world as she  watched him go by. She’d watch him walk in and out of his apartments. He’d even caught  her staring blatantly in windows. Always watching. Never saying a word.  

As he didn’t discern any type of a threat from the situation, Duncan went about his  business as usual until one day, feeling a bit crabbit and weary of her spying, he’d  attempted to speak to her.  

He’d walked out of the grocery store to find her a few spaces away from Vina, head  cocked at a curious angle, dark eyes serious as she’d studied his every move like he was 

some sort of alien creature. His steps had faltered when he noticed her there, but only for  a moment.  

Opening the back of his Jeep, he’d put his bags inside. “Sexy grin” in place—the  one that never failed to bring the females running—he’d turned to say something  charming and perhaps slightly teasing. Something that would bring a smile to her face  and a light to her eyes.  

But when he’d met her steady stare, whatever he’d been about to say had melted  like sugar on his tongue. At some point, he’d finally managed to stutter out an awkward  greeting, but even that had taken the majority of his brain power. He couldn’t even  remember now what it was he’d said. But it must’ve been something especially glaikit,  for the lass had looked at him like he was the village idiot before she’d turned and  meandered away with not a whiff of urgency, as always. Her full hips had swayed back  and forth with a natural swagger, causing a startling growl of need to rumble in his chest. Och, aye. That, he could remember. 

Over time, Duncan had come to the conclusion there was one reason and one  reason only for his impaired reaction to this particular lass after he’d spent hundreds of  years wrapping females around his finger—or at least not offending them by his  presence. 

She was more. 

And as to why she’d been following him around these past weeks? Well, that was  quite simple to see. This lass was not normally attracted to males, and yet, she found  herself irresistibly attracted to one now. It was the only explanation that made sense.  

She obviously had a strange fascination with him. Perhaps she was confused by her  feelings and was trying to puzzle it out, and this is why she kept appearing everywhere he  was, she was trying to figure out why she was so very attracted to him. 

It made perfect sense, and the only reason he could think of for her strange  behavior. 

Duncan rinsed the remaining lather from his face and checked to make sure he  hadn’t missed anything. He slapped on a little smelly stuff—females loved the smelly  stuff—and went to his room to finish getting dressed. 

It took him a minute to decide what she would like him to wear, but ultimately  settled on jeans and a thin, green sweater that brought out the color in his eyes. Tonight,  he was going to talk to the lass. Really talk to her without tripping all over his words…or  his own feet. Tell her why he believed she was so taken by him, and they could finally  stop dancing around each other, and he could get on with his life.  

Alone.