by Lydia Dare
She shook her head. Did she truly believe her husband was a werewolf? That Oliver was a werewolf? It sounded insane. Yet everything she'd read seemed to indicate that the impossible was possible. It would have been nice to discuss the Lycan book with Simon before he disappeared.
But he hadn't given her that chance. Blast him!
"You should eat something," Alice said as she entered the room and sat across from Lily.
"Apparently I'm not hungry."
Alice frowned, raking her gaze across Lily. "Are you feeling ill?"
Ill tempered. "That depends. Are you not allowed to discuss Lycans with me today?"
A ghost of a smile lit Alice's lips. "Sweet Lily. I told you, only Simon is able to reveal such secrets."
She wasn't denying it though, was she? "I see." Lily drummed her fingers on the breakfast table. "But is that just in regards to Simon? Can you tell me about Will? Or your husband? Oliver perhaps? Is my nephew a… a Lycan?"
Alice took a deep breath. "Dear, after Simon reveals everything to you, we can have as many conversations as you'd like on the subject. For the time being, you are on the correct path. I can't say more than that."
Lily leapt to her feet. This was among the most bizarre conversations she'd ever had. "Why not? Are there werewolf spies that would know if you told me? Will they suddenly appear in the middle of the room in a poof of smoke and drag you off to some wolfy prison for revealing their secrets?"
"I know it's difficult, Lily," Alice began softly.
Lily punched her hands to her hips. "Difficult, Alice, is reading fantastical books about werewolves and starting to believe that the man I married and the boy I raised are such creatures. I should be locked away in Bedlam for even entertaining the idea. Then I woke up to find the two of them gone. And the only person who can give me answers refuses to do so."
"I would if I was able."
Lily started from the room, but Alice's words halted her. "Do you remember when I asked you if there was anything Oliver could do to make you stop loving him?"
"Yes," she answered, looking back over her shoulder.
Alice nodded. "What if he is a Lycan, Lily? What if everything you're entertaining is true? Simon, Will, Oliver… Would you love them less? Or stop loving them all together?"
What if it was all true? What if Simon transformed under the light of a full moon and became a wolf? A memory flashed in her mind of the wolf on the hill she saw the night she spent at Langley Downs. It had seemed as if the creature had called out to her.
Was it Simon?
***
The sun was barely in the sky when Simon spotted Reston House from atop a hill outside of Guilford. The Elizabethan home was of modest size and settled nicely in the woods, just as Lieutenant Schofield had described. Oliver would be safe here, which was a relief.
He urged Abbadon forward and galloped down the hill. They rode around the back of the house toward the stables, where they dismounted. Almost at once they were surrounded by a pack of russet-haired, freckle-faced children.
"Are you the duke?" asked one bold little girl, about six years old.
Before Simon could answer, a hulking man with auburn hair stepped from the home's back door. "Blackmoor?" the man called.
"Lieutenant Schofield?" Simon asked.
"Who else?" the officer asked, stepping forward and clapping Simon's back as though they were old friends. "We weren't expecting you 'til this afternoon." Then he looked at the swarm of children, who all looked just like him. "Mary, take your brothers and sisters, and run along to your mother."
The oldest girl herded her brothers and sisters and directed them back toward the house.
"Sorry," the lieutenant began. "It's not all that often we have such important guests." Then he looked over Simon's shoulder. "And you must be the Earl of Maberley."
"Oliver," he replied, nodding.
"Well, Oliver," the lieutenant said, "Leo is up in his room making space for you. Come along, and we'll introduce you."
In no time, Oliver and Leo Schofield seemed to be the best of friends and had gone to explore the woods behind Reston House together. Lily would be relieved the two boys had connected so quickly.
Lily.
Simon's thoughts returned to her, and his heart ached, but he could see her again in a few days when the worst of his affliction had passed. When he was certain she'd be safe from him. He accepted a cup of tea from the army officer after sinking into an overstuffed chair, which was heaven after the long ride.
"Would you like to rest, Your Grace?" the lieutenant asked him. "You look exhausted, if you don't mind my saying so."
Simon only hoped he looked better than he felt. "That is very kind, but I should be getting back to Westfield Hall."
The lieutenant winked at him. "Ah, your wife is wanting you home safe for moonful?"
He tried to keep the scowl from his face. "My wife is unaware that I am Lycan."
The officer nodded in understanding as he dropped into a seat across from Simon. "Ah, my first wife was the same way. She was a sweet thing but didn't have the fortitude for a claiming."
Finally. Simon heaved a sigh. Everyone else made it sound as if he'd made the wrong decision, but Lieutenant Schofield seemed to understand.
"In that case, would you like to stay here with us? We have plenty of room."
That Simon doubted, but the offer was generous. He shook his head. "I don't want to be too far from my wife."
"I understand."
"You say your first wife didn't have the fortitude?"
The lieutenant rubbed his chin. "Leo's mother. When she discovered what I was, she threw herself from the attic. She died on impact. He was just an infant. I'm fortunate my second wife's will was a bit stronger."
The matter-of-fact way Lieutenant Schofield could discuss such a thing made chills race up Simon's spine. An image of Lily's lifeless body flashed in his mind. Surely she wouldn't throw herself from the top floor of Westfield Hall upon learning the truth.
His resolve to keep her distant from this aspect of his life seemed the correct decision. In their vows, he'd promised to protect her, and he appeared to be on the right course.
After finishing his tea, Simon thanked the lieutenant for his generosity and then started back for Hampshire.
Forty-Five
Lily bolted upright in bed, the plaintive call of a wild animal rousing her from her sleep. She ran to the window and searched the darkness. There, limned by the light of the full moon, sat the wild beast that called to her. High on a hill, the lone wolf raised his head and howled.
The sound tore through her like the slice of a sharp blade. She doubled over, seeking relief from the blinding pain. Black danced around the edges of her vision, but she fought it back.
"Simon," she whispered, when she could finally stand again. She pressed her fingertips against the cold, wet glass, using her index finger to trace the wolf's form. The beast raised his head and called again. This call reached past the pain it caused in her body and touched her heart.
"I'm coming," Lily whispered. She turned, ran on her bare feet across the floor, and flung open her door with so much force that it hit the wall and bounced back closed. The sound reverberated through the room. But the call of the one she loved was the only noise she heard. She opened the door again and slipped through.
Lily dashed down the hallway, her frantic pace disguised by the soft carpet beneath her feet. When she reached the lower level of the manor, she turned toward the doorway that led to the garden. As she rounded the corner, her hip collided with the edge of a hallway table. A heavy vase crashed against the hardwood floor.
Lily stopped only briefly to press the heel of her hand to the pain in her hip. She had to reach Simon. She had to get to him. Nothing would stand in her way.
"Lily," a voice called. She barely heard it, her heartbeats loud in her ear, almost as loud as the breaths that rushed in and out of her lungs.
"Lily!" The word finally caught her
attention.
Lily turned slowly to find Alice in her nightrail and wrapper, leaning against the doorjamb of the library. She had a glass of amber liquid in her hand, which she raised casually to her lips. A smile played at the corners of her mouth. Lily had no time for the woman. She had to reach Simon. Lily turned back toward the door.
"Are you fully aware of what you're doing?" Alice asked. Her question drew Lily's gaze.
Lily shook her head. She had no idea what she was doing. She simply knew she had to heed the call of the wolf.
Her wolf.
Simon.
"Do not let him hide from you," Alice surprised her by saying. "Do not let him shut you out. Don't accept anything less than everything."
Lily nodded.
Alice walked toward her. She cupped Lily's face in her hands and forced Lily to look at her.
"If he hurts you, know that it's not intentional."
"He wouldn't hurt me."
"He won't intend to."
Lily nodded.
"If you weren't his intended mate, you wouldn't feel the call."
"I understand. I must go."
Alice stepped back and nodded. "Go. Be well. Love him."
"As though I have a choice." Lily was unable to repress the small smile that erupted before she turned on her heel and ran for the garden door.
***
Simon sat atop the hill, his need for Lily painful in its intensity. He wanted nothing more than to shift back to human form and go to her. He needed to be with her. He needed to be inside her. He needed her.
Simon arched his neck and called to her. He knew she would not hear, but he needed to make the sound. He needed to scream to the heavens. He needed to cry.
Dear God, he needed.
A rabbit skittered by in the bushes. Simon didn't take his eyes from Westfield Hall. She was in there. She was asleep in his bed. She was snug and safe under the counterpane. She was safe from him.
That thought brought unending pain. She shouldn't need to be safe from him. If he wasn't such a beast, he could be with her. He could be with her and love her always. Love her in every way.
Simon's ears perked up when he heard a door slam at Westfield Hall. He stood up on all four feet. His limbs quivered with the desire to run to her. Instead, he turned away, ready to head back into the dense forest. Ready to run from her.
Then his keen hearing picked up the sound of running feet as they crunched against the pea-gravel path in the garden. Someone was outside. He sniffed the air. Damn! The wind blew in the wrong direction to pick up a scent.
Simon closed his eyes and willed the wind to change direction. Despite his close proximity to nature, he had no ability to force the wind to do his bidding. Had he been human, he would have laughed.
But he wasn't. And never would be. Not truly. Sure, he could pretend to be human most of the time. But he was all beast.
Simon heard footfalls pounding against the soft forest floor. Faster and faster they ran. An animal? He sniffed again. Still no scent. He growled at the injustice of it all.
The wind shifted.
He smelled it.
He smelled her.
Lily.
No.
The footsteps grew louder and louder as she ran. He would evade her. He would go farther into the forest. He would run from her. He turned to do just that.
But then she winced. Simon stood and looked down. He could see her there, stopped at the bottom of the hill. She halted and pulled a thorn from her foot. Maybe that would slow her down.
Not his Lily. She ran even faster than before. She was nearly upon him when he turned to run away.
He heard her voice.
***
A soft rain began to fall. Lily paid it no heed and simply brushed the wet locks of hair from in front of her eyes. She had to find her wolf.
Lily knew it was him the moment she saw him. His black hair shone under the light of the moon. The streak of white that usually graced his temple now shot across one ear and down his back.
"Simon!" she called. He was facing away from her. He was moving in the wrong direction. But she would run forever to catch him. She barely felt the pain in her feet, which were bruised and battered after her barefoot run through the forest.
He didn't turn when she called to him. He ran in the other direction. He moved into the dark until she was unable to tell wolf from shadow.
No!
"Simon," she cried, bending over, the pain of his absence nearly more than she could bear. Lily fell to her hands and knees as tears clouded her vision.
"Don't leave me!" she screamed, the strength of which burned her throat.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
Simon stood completely naked and completely unashamed under the light of the full moon.
"Why are you here, Lily?" he snarled.
She drew in a deep breath, the relief of seeing him nearly palpable.
"Because I need you," she said.
He turned to walk back into the forest. "Go home," he ordered.
"Because I want you!" she cried, louder than before.
He turned and looked at her.
"Because I love you!" she finished.
Lily sat back on her heels and freed her nightrail from around her legs, where she knelt on the ground. Quickly, she tugged it over her head and tossed it to the ground beside her. She sat naked in front of him. She held up her hands, palms facing the sky. "Take me," she cried.
Forty-Six
Simon fought the beast. He fought it with every bit of his body, mind, and soul.
He came to her and kneeled in front of her, his hands sliding into the hair at her temples.
"Why don't you want me?" she sobbed. But gone was the time that he could have gently wiped the tear from her cheek. Instead, he brutally pulled at her hair, tipping her head so that she was forced to look him in the eye.
"You think I don't want you?" he snarled. How could she possibly think that? He wanted her in the worst way. He wanted to pin her beneath him. He wanted to thrust into her until he could spill himself inside her. He wanted to take her. He wanted it more than he wanted his next breath.
Despite the brutal pressure he applied to her scalp with his hands tangled in her hair, she turned her head and pressed her face into his palm.
He couldn't allow her to show gentleness to him. The beast didn't deserve it. The beast wanted nothing more than to hurt her. Why would she turn to him and seek comfort?
Lily reached up to touch Simon's face, and he flinched.
"Don't touch me," he growled.
Yet she persisted. Her hand cupped his cheek. Her thumb brushed across his bottom lip. And Simon gave up control. He allowed the beast to take over.
The pain of the transformation was miniscule compared to the pain in his heart. For he knew that when he showed her his true self, when he came to her in Lycan form, she would turn from him in disgust.
Simon lifted his face to the moon and basked in the light of the night. He dropped to his hands and knees before her and let her watch as his hands became paws with long, black claws, so sharp they dug into the soft, wet earth. Simon watched her face as she watched his. He knew his nose would elongate and his ears would move to the top of his head and become pointy. He'd seen his brothers and others of their kind change. It was a quick process. Yet tonight, it seemed to happen so slowly.
When he was fully Lycan, he stood before her, his face level with hers. He wanted to shout, "Go home! Go to safety!" But now all he could do was whimper. So, he did.
Then the little fool reached a hand toward him. She reached those tiny little fingers out as though she wanted to touch him. Hadn't her mother ever taught her not to touch wild animals?
Simon bared his teeth and growled.
Lily's hand stilled, hanging in the air in mid-reach. He growled again. There, he thought. That is what I am. I am fur and snout and teeth and bite. I am Lycan. I am not human.
Simon closed his eyes and sat very st
ill. He hoped that, when he opened them, she would be long gone. She would come to her senses and leave him. But even more than that, he closed his eyes because he didn't want to see the revulsion on her face he knew would be there. He knew she wouldn't be able to accept him as he was.
Then she touched him. His eyes flew open, and he bared his teeth. He snarled. He would bite her if she wasn't careful.
"There, now," she whispered as a tear slipped from her eye and rode a path down her cheek. "Growl all you want." Then a laugh broke from her throat. She said very softly, "When Emma and I were young, we had these cats in the stables. No one could touch them. They were feral. They hissed and scratched and bit. But I never gave up."
