Thomas, paid enforcer in the Cloverleah Pack, was carrying a lot of guilt. He still believed he was to blame for letting Wesley get targeted by the dark elves, almost causing a rift in Cathair and Marius's mating. The alpha Kane, told him it wasn't his fault, and Cathair and Marius came through the experience battered but not broken, but Thomas still felt as though he had to prove his worth to himself and the pack. He spends many hours patrolling long after the rest of the pack had gone to bed, determined to do something worthwhile. It was on one of those patrol nights he hears a ruckus outside the territory wards. Dithering as to whether he should help or not, he gets the surprise of his life when his true mate falls right through the magic designed to keep everyone not pack, out.
Ivan was carrying secrets; the main one tucked up in his battered backpack. After a six month long mission to find the Cloverleah pack, he was as surprised as the next man when he fell onto pack grounds and into the arms of his true mate. Unfortunately, other pack members, still emotionally scarred by Wesley's betrayal, didn't view his "break in" quite so favorably and Ivan ends up in the Cloverleah cells.
Meanwhile, the dark elves are getting closer and more brazen in their efforts to ensnare the Cloverleah pack. Pack tensions are running high and something needs to be done and soon. Through it all, Thomas and Ivan have to navigate their mating and learn to trust in each other. Secrets will hit the light of day and life for the Cloverleah pack may never be the same. As for Thomas and Ivan - time is running out for them too. A chance arrow, a ray of sunshine; will it mean Ivan and Thomas will get their HEA or will they fall at the last hurdle along with the rest of the Cloverleah pack?
My Treasure to Keep is the twelfth full novel in the Cloverleah pack. It is advised to read the previous books to gain an understanding of the secondary characters and main plot lines. This is an M/M paranormal story featuring true mates. Warnings include graphic language, intimate situations, and some violence. Not intended for readers under the age of 18.
It’s got to be here somewhere. Ivan shot another hurried look over his shoulder. The glow from the pack lands he was seeking shone brighter than mother moon, but he’d been running for hours and there was just no way in. Grunts and then a cackle of laughter sounded behind him and Ivan knew he was running out of time.Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should never have stopped at that diner. His loud panting rang in his ears; other prey like rabbits and rodents, hiding like any sensible creature. But Ivan couldn’t stop. The Cloverleah pack was his only hope.
But if I can’t get in, all is lost! Clutching his bag closer to his chest, Ivan tripped and stumbled as he glanced back again. The humans were getting closer. For the millionth time since he’d started on his journey, Ivan wished he could shift. Not until you find your fated mate, sweetheart, you just have to be patient. Gods, he could hear his mother’s sweet voice, and tears pricked his eyes. I’m trying, Mother.
The thump of boots got louder, his hunters not caring that he could hear them coming. Stupid bastards thought it was a game, but for Ivan it was so much more. He knew he didn’t have much time. The crackle of the wards sent tingles over his skin. Ivan could see its glow, even though to human eyes there was nothing there. Please. A weakness, a break, a door, something. Come on guys, how do you get your freaking mail?
A crack of a tree branch right behind him made him stumble. Even though he knew he should keep running, he made the mistake of turning. Shit. They were right there, just ten feet away. Three hugely built males who looked as though they could tear him limb from limb with their bare hands. Black cargo pants, black sweaters, black boots and their faces covered with black balaclavas. Why do all villains wear black? Ivan wondered as he slowly backed up. He knew he couldn’t run much further. The muffin and coffee he’d managed to scrape up the change for was hours before and the only thing keeping him on his feet was adrenalin.
“I haven’t got anything worth stealing,” he said, wincing at the high pitch of his voice.
“You’re one of them.” The tallest one stepped closer. “One of them that live in the cult. Devil’s spawn.”
“Cult? I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ivan could feel the wards against his back. Fates, please don’t let them give me a zap. “I got lost. I was supposed to meet some friends camping around here. I can’t find them. You haven’t seen them, have you?”
“The only ones out in these woods are you and us,” the guy on the right cackled. “Hand over your bag.”
“I told you, I don’t have anything worth stealing.” Ivan clutched his bag closer to his chest. “I don’t know who you think I am, but you’ve got the wrong guy. I’m just a city boy who doesn’t know how to use a compass.”
“Then you’re no use to us.” The guy on the left pulled out a large Bowie knife from its sheath attached to his belt. Black of course - the belt, not the knife, although the knife had a black handle. “Give us that bag or we’ll take it from you.”
Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. With three men advancing towards him and the wards at his back, Ivan had nowhere to run. There was no way he was giving up his bag while he was still breathing. “Leave me alone,” he yelled as loud as he could, praying someone on the other side of the wards would hear him. “I’ve got nothing you want. I’m just a nobody lost in the woods. HELP!”
The wards crackled across his back, so loud Ivan was surprised his attackers couldn’t hear it. As they lunged towards him, Ivan scrunched his eyes closed. Fates help me, he pleaded as the stench of the men filled his nostrils. His body tensed, waiting for the first blow. A big hand grabbed his arm and he was yanked…back? Electricity prickled across his skin and then suddenly, he was lying on grass, the wards in front of him this time. He opened his eyes to see a tall, well-built without being overly-muscled, naked man standing above him.
About the Author
Lisa Oliver had been writing non-fiction books for years when visions of half dressed, buff men started invading her dreams. Unable to resist the lure of her stories, Lisa decided to switch to fiction books, and now stories about her men clamor to get out from under her fingertips.
When Lisa is not writing, she is usually reading with a cup of tea always at hand. Her grown children and grandchildren sometimes try and pry her away from the computer and have found that the best way to do it, is to promise her chocolate. Lisa will do anything for chocolate.
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