Seduced by the Highland Werewolf

by Mandy M. Roth

  The book thrummed in her hands before warming to the touch.

  Strange.

  That had never happened before.

  For a second, she worried her magik would get loose from her and perhaps ignite the book. That would be bad—very bad. It would mean her control was gone. And the book was no doubt irreplaceable. Magik texts weren’t exactly easy to come by.

  She opened the book about wolf-shifters, just to get a better idea of what the text contained, and found herself at the start of a chapter about being mated to and dealing with alpha males.

  She chuckled. “Not something I have to really worry about.”

  And she didn’t.

  She wasn’t dating, nor did she ever date. And unless her mate happened to be the same demon who killed her parents, the odds of her finding the other half of her soul in the small Ohio town were one in a million.

  Closing the book, she held it for a bit longer before setting it on the table and shutting off the lights. Her gaze remained on the book for a moment more before she walked away to get ready for work.

  She couldn’t help but think about what it would be like to be mated to an alpha-male wolf-shifter. The few she’d met in her life had been cocky to the point she’d considered throttling them, and they certainly hadn’t lacked for female companionship.

  They were just too sure of themselves. Too full of it.

  She snorted. “As if I’d ever mate with an alpha-male shifter.”

  Chapter Four

  Duncan’s cousin, Liam O’Caha, entered the bar wearing a kilt, a black leather jacket, matching boots, and a T-shirt that said, “Ask What I’m Wearing Under My Kilt and I’ll Show You.” He’d no doubt got it from his buddy who worked for a paranormal organization that also fought the good fight against evil. Another Scottish wolf-shifter—a wild and wooly redhead with a talent for trouble—who seemed to have a never-ending supply of shirts at the ready to send to family and friends.

  Liam would indeed show anyone who asked what was under his kilt, and Duncan already knew the answer to the question.

  Nothing.

  He didn’t need to be flashed by his cousin’s junk.

  Liam stuck out like a sore thumb. Not that it was important he blend or anything. The group of hipster boys near the entrance hardly fit in. Actually, Liam looked more like he belonged at the bar than the boys did.

  If his cousin dared to order a coffee-flavored beer, Duncan would string him up by the same balls he was so willing to show off, should anyone inquire.

  Duncan sat up in his chair and kicked another chair out a bit for Liam as he made his way across the bar, drawing various looks and stares from most of the patrons. Some, the ones who were seedier, didn’t bother with him. Liam tended to have more in common with the shady folks than not.

  So did Duncan.

  Liam had the signature O’Caha boy black hair. And like nearly all the men in the family, he kept his hair longer, as had been the custom when they were born. There was never a doubt the men were related. They all looked a great deal alike and had matching tempers. Some worse than others. They were a wild bunch, and while fighting between them wasn’t unheard of, they never allowed anyone outside of the family to mess with any of them.

  They protected their own. And no matter what, they came when one of them needed help. Such was the case with Liam. Duncan had reached out, fearing history was about to repeat itself, and before he’d even gotten the words out, Liam was agreeing to come to him.

  Liam glanced around the bar and curled his lip. “What a shite hole.”

  “Aye,” said Duncan, motioning for the waitress. “We’ve been in worse.”

  “That we have, cousin,” said Liam with a snort. “Did we nae own a worse bar once, long ago?”

  Duncan laughed. “We did. I do nae miss that place.”

  “I miss the endless women. Serving wenches were the best,” said Liam with a smirk, as he pulled out the chair more. “Though I amass hot women wherever I go. ’Tis a curse. A cross I must learn to bear.”

  Duncan snorted. “I’m sure it’s horrid.”

  The waitress came to the table and grinned. Her lipstick was a strange shade of orange-red and a sharp contrast to her skin tone. As were most of her makeup choices. Duncan bet she looked better without all of the war paint. He preferred his women without any, and never understood men who liked it or women who thought they needed cosmetics. They were things of beauty just as the gods and goddesses had intended. They didn’t need extra help.

  She raked her gaze over Liam as if he were a medium-rare, juicy steak up for the taking. “Oh look, the Scotsman has a friend. A very handsome one. Let me guess, beer, no coffee-flavored choices.”

  Liam eyed the woman and offered one of his famous lady-charming smiles. Duncan lost track of the number of women Liam had managed to tempt out of their panties with that smile.

  Truth was, Duncan had used a similar smile to get what he wanted from women over the years as well. But that seemed like a lifetime ago. His sexual appetite had dulled dramatically a couple of decades ago.

  In actuality, it had all but vanished—at least outside of masturbation.

  Maybe he’d reached a tipping point and, like miles on a car, he’d exceeded his body’s sexual mileage.

  The waitress ate up the attention, leaning toward Liam, pushing her chest out more, as if the low-cut V-neck of her shirt wasn’t showing enough cleavage.

  “Whiskey for me, lass,” said Liam, winking at her. “The bottle and two glasses if you will, please.”

  She slid her gaze to Duncan. “Another beer for you?”

  “Aye,” he responded. “And thank you.”

  “Ma’am, can we get another round?” asked one of the hipster boys from their table near the front of the bar.

  The waitress rolled her eyes, then schooled her face. “Sure thing.”

  Liam glanced back at the men and lifted a dark brow. “Do you think they needed a shoehorn to get themselves into those jeans?”

  “Aye,” said Duncan with a smile.

  “Six breakfast-blend beers coming right up for them,” said the waitress, partially under her breath.

  Duncan didn’t bother to hide his amusement.

  She gathered all his empties, clanging them together, as she shook her head. “Never seen anyone drink as much as you and show no signs of being intoxicated. You one of those people that can’t get drunk? Catrina, a girl who works here, is always talking about things she reads. Told us about people who can’t get drunk. They don’t get hangovers either. She was also telling me how much bacteria can be found in a bowl of peanuts at a bar.”

  She eyed the bowl Duncan had been eating from.

  He groaned.

  Laughing, she walked off, leaving the men alone.

  Once she was out of earshot, Liam shrugged off his jacket and gave Duncan a good once-over. He put the jacket on the back of the chair. “We barely hear from you for nearly a year, and when we do its fast calls or short texts, and then you call me out of the blue, wanting me to meet you here because of some dreams?”

  He nodded. It was true, he’d kept to himself for a full year, doing his duty to their line of immortal Highland sorcerers but making no effort to stay in contact with anyone. He’d always preferred to be alone. That tended to baffle his brothers and cousins, as the O’Caha clan was a tight-knit family. Even their grandmother couldn’t get Duncan to play nice with the others.

  “Cillian? Is he nae coming?” asked Duncan of Liam’s twin.

  Cillian was the tamer of the twins. Though next to Liam, a lion seemed tame. In actuality, Cillian was a hellion. As were most of the O’Caha males. It was a trait they took great pride in, much to their grandmother’s dismay. She loved them all dearly, but she wouldn’t hesitate to set them in their places if they overstepped their bounds.

  And she could.

  They were powerful, but she was downright lethal.

  Liam flashed a wide smile. “He’s something else to see
to with Coyle and Korey. Have you spoken to Kennard recently?”

  “No,” returned Duncan as he thought about his brother. “Why?”

  “Then you’ve nae heard the babe is a boy and is due any day now?”

  Duncan smiled. “A boy? Just what the O’Cahas need. One more boy.”

  Liam laughed. “Aye. We’ve no shortage. ’Tis for sure. Yer to be an uncle soon. Are you ready?”

  “No,” admitted Duncan. “Kennard already informed me I’m nae allowed to teach the wee one anything bad.”

  “So yer planning to teach your brother’s son everything bad, aren’t you?” asked Liam with a smirk.

  “Aye!” Duncan laughed.

  “You talk to any of your other brothers recently?” asked Liam.

  “No,” he said. He was a shit brother. That wasn’t exactly news. Duncan and his brothers tended to butt heads more often than not. That didn’t mean Duncan didn’t care about them. He cared deeply for all his brothers and cousins. He just wasn’t the best about displaying that affection.

  Duncan tipped his head, thinking about the last time he’d spoken to Liam, before the call for help. “Grandma still have you witch-sitting?”

  “Och, I do nae like it one bit but she willnae hear my protests,” said Liam, looking distraught. “Instead, she forces me to stay and guard a woman who does nae want me guarding her.”

  Duncan hid his laughter. “What was the young witch’s name again?”

  “Maria,” replied Liam, letting out a long, slow breath. “She’s nae a witch. She’s a force of nature. That woman tried to have her aunts curse me with impotence the last time I saw her.”

  Laughing, Duncan noted the horrified expression on his cousin’s face. Liam was something of a cad. The threat of making his cock limp would certainly scare the hell out of him.

  “I do nae think that can be done, can it?” asked Duncan.

  Liam’s eyes widened as he nodded. “You’ve never met Maria and her family. They’re a mix of witches and cat-shifters. So she’s nae only temperamental, she’s got the magik to back up her threats. A total force of nature, that one.”

  “She has you verra worked up. Something going on there?” asked Duncan, enjoying seeing Liam’s unease. Whoever this Maria was, she was someone he wanted to meet. Especially if she could cause Liam to react in such a manner.

  Liam refused to meet his gaze. Instead, his cousin toyed with the row of darts on the table. He lifted one, rolling it over his fingers expertly. He threw it at the dartboard, getting a bullseye himself.

  They’d spent far too much time in bars in their long lives. And Liam was right: they’d owned a few in their lives too. Some of their family members still did. He could still vividly recall the tavern one of his cousins had opened in North Carolina upon their arrival in America. It had been a thing of legends, a place that made the current bar he was sitting in look like a palace.

  Ah the guid days.

  Since the O’Caha clan was large and consisted of immortals, they’d all seen and done a hell of a lot in their time. They’d spread out over the world, spending various lengths of times in different countries. They’d participated in countless wars, some together, some apart, and at times went long periods between seeing one another, especially before the advent of modern transportation. Sure, they could draw upon their powers to help move from one spot to another, but that was a big ask and doing so too much tended to alert the bad guys, sending up flares through the supernatural community.

  Duncan had been on more slow boats across the Atlantic than he cared to recall. His first time coming to America had been after the Jacobite rising. Duncan, one of his brothers, and two of his cousins had made the journey on the same ship. Several other cousins who had been residing in Ireland for a long length of time had also arrived in North Carolina around the same time but on a different vessel.

  As proud as the O’Cahas were to be Highlanders, they’d had a great deal of influences seep in over the centuries from other countries, and as druids, they’d been exposed to much in the way of other magiks and customs. It was why they often used terms that weren’t native to them. It would be very boring if, after hundreds of years, they’d not grown at least somewhat.

  Liam knocked once on the table. “Lost in thought or drunk?”

  He shrugged. “Both. Fell down memory lane.”

  “Did it involve lasses and bedding them? If so, share the memory so I can get a cheap thrill out of it,” said Liam with a smirk. “It will take my mind from Maria.”

  Duncan chuckled. “She’s a bonnie lass then? I can see by yer face she is.”

  “Aye, but bossy. Verra bossy. And she’s a temper the likes of which I’ve never seen before. She’s also crass. When she’s really angry with me, her eyes look even more beautiful, erm, never mind.” Liam cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the topic of Maria.

  Chapter Five

  “Enough talk of lasses. I wish to know what prompted you to reach out after so long. These dreams cannae be just any dreams for you to crawl out from under yer rock. You like to pout for a few decades at a time and then show yerself.”

  Duncan thought of the dreams that had consumed his nights for months. “The dreams, they’re like before—they’ve dark magik all over them. It clings to me when I wake.”

  Liam’s gaze went instantly to Duncan’s inner forearm. To the runes there. They were temporary but that didn’t take from the fact they were used to channel dark magik. Magik his clan normally did not tamper with. It was too unstable and could seduce the one wearing the runes, pulling them to the darker side of the fight between good and evil. They’d all seen the results. They’d witnessed what it was like for one of their kind to fall down the rabbit hole of black arts.

  It wasn’t pretty.

  Yet Duncan had made the choice to draw upon the dark runes to assist him in his hunt for the demon, knowing full well the risks associated with the action.

  Duncan jutted out his jaw. “Do nae say it. And do nae go judging me. I seem to recall you, Cian, and Kennard using similar runes to help defeat the dark mage who had threatened Kennard’s mate.”

  Liam gave a curt nod. “Aye. But we dinnae draw up them as long as you’ve been, nor as many as you.”

  Duncan sighed. “The dreams started before I drew upon the dark runes. The runes are to help control my wolf and to help me remember the dreams fully, so do nae go making them into more than they are.”

  Liam lifted a brow. “You do nae remember them?”

  “Some. But nae all of what happens,” confessed Duncan, knowing it was past the time he brought in extra help. He’d seen a lot in his long life. Enough to know when he was in over his head. “I remember that whatever happens in the dreams takes place here, in this area. And it’s nae guid.”

  Now was one of those times he knew he was in too deep. Something big was going down and he wouldn’t risk another family being destroyed. Not if it was within his power to prevent as much from occurring again.

  It had been what had prompted him to finally reach out to his family. He and Liam had always gotten along well. They’d spent a large portion of their youth getting into trouble together, earning them a reputation as problem children. They wore the label with pride.

  “What else can you tell me of the dreams?” asked Liam.

  “Only that I wake up with the overwhelming feeling that I have to be here, at this dive bar, ready for something. I’m guessing to finish what I started nineteen years ago,” he said. “I wanted you to come to see if you sensed anything here.”

  Liam appeared less than amused. “You called me here to see if I get bad vibes?”

  “Liam, this place, this town, ’tis where the demon I was hunting years ago killed the young couple,” confessed Duncan, barely able to get the words out.

  Liam watched him. “The couple you told me about that had the wee one? The lass?”

  “Aye. No one ever paid for the crime. I was nae able to find the dark mages or
the others who assisted the demon back then. It was as if they went to ground. When they did, the creature they summoned forth, that had slaughtered the family, went with them. I dinnae act on my dreams back then. Or I dinnae act on them fast enough and innocents died. The same dreams are back. I’ll nae make that mistake again.”

  “Shite.”

  Duncan nodded. “Aye. Shite. Can you read the area? Maybe you can sense something I missed. I fear I’m too close to this situation. I cannae see the forest for the trees. I cannae get the face of the little one out of my head. Her screams and cries for her mother and her father…they echo in my nightmares.”

  “Aye, I’ll see if I sense anything.”

  Liam lifted a hand, and while Duncan felt his cousin’s magik moving over the tiny roadside bar, he knew none of the humans would notice.

  The power crept over the patrons, inching along the floors of the bar, before moving to the walls. Liam was careful to coat everything in magik, doing a thorough job.

  Duncan knew he would.

  Liam tended to get up to his fair share of mischief, as did Duncan, but the man had a pure heart. He was also very powerful.

  The magik pulled back through the bar, returning to its owner. Duncan watched his cousin for any indication he’d found something amiss. Maybe there was a dark mage at work in the area again. Or perhaps a den of evil vampires or moon-crazed shifters.

  Worse yet.

  Maybe the very people he’d been hunting years ago were back and had another family in their line of sight.

  He grit his teeth at the idea, his inner beast making itself known. He struggled to keep his wolf down, having denied it for too long. He could not afford to give in to the moon’s monthly pull over his wolf.

  Not if the dreams were correct and danger was here. He’d not fail another family. He could still hear the daughter’s screams for her parents. Could still see the fear in her wide brown eyes, the confusion, the terror. She’d been so scared, and rightly so.

  And then heartbroken.