Darker Edge of Desire

by Mitzi Szereto

  The orderlies were kind and she’d done her best to exploit that kindness, begging them to let her out, implying that it was their employer who was mad and not she. But that was a ploy they had clearly seen before, from lesser personages than her.

  Her first week had been a very unhappy one. How she had cursed Henry for engineering her imprisonment, for humiliating her and for putting her at the mercy of a man like Dr. Thorncroft. But however loath she was to admit it, there was, after all, something not right with her. That night hadn’t been the first time she’d woken to find herself muddy and disheveled, with no memory of events.

  Dr. Thorncroft had noticed right away how her superficial cuts and abrasions vanished as if by magic. And Madeleine had been just as fascinated. As a test one night she’d scraped her arm along one of the iron bars of her window. Blood welled along the cut in a bright vivid line before trickling over her arm and dripping onto the floor. Not a serious injury, but a painful one. Or rather—one that should have been painful. She felt the skin separate, felt the blood rising to the surface before spilling out, but curiously, it hadn’t hurt. On the contrary, she had felt stimulated by it. Aroused.

  Dr. Thorncroft had since come to call her strange response “hysteria,” insisting that sexual excitement was unnatural in women. How unlike his brother he was! James didn’t find her passion in the least disturbing. On the contrary, he celebrated it.

  The doctor often spoke of Madeleine as though she were merely an experimental subject and not a patient and she wondered whether his clinical detachment might be his undoing. If he focused exclusively on her physical responses, he would be blind to any plotting and scheming. He would certainly never imagine her capable of getting the better of him. And she gave him plenty to focus on by way of distraction.

  After watching her self-inflicted cut stitch itself up within minutes, leaving no trace of a scar, Madeleine had decided to let the doctor do as he wished with her. He could perform his tests and she would gaze at him, wide-eyed and hopeful that he could cure the ludicrous condition he had invented for her. It was abnormal, he claimed, for a woman to wander as she did, with no memory of her actions or how she came to be in such a state afterward. He was certain that her remarkable healing abilities were related to the condition somehow; he just couldn’t find the link.

  But Madeleine had her suspicions.

  She was coming to understand much about herself and her body’s strange responses and abilities. And as she watched the moon each night through her window she felt more and more drawn to its ghostly blue light. She felt its pull, sensed its exertions on the tides within her body. As the moon waxed, so had her initial fury at being brought here. It shrank to a sliver in the sky, a sharp and gleaming thorn. Or perhaps it was a claw. Something to rend and tear. Something animal and alive. Night after night she watched it swell, opening like an eye fixed just on her.

  And with the swelling of the moon came a swelling of desire. She was unashamed of her “perverse” feelings; resisting them was what felt truly unnatural.

  For as long as she could remember, her mind had reeled with fantasies. Highwaymen who waylaid her and spirited her away, pinning her down in the wild forest and taking it in turns to ravish her. Oriental traders who captured her and herded her onto an auction block with other ladies, there to be sold to the highest bidder. She had read of such encounters in books. Lurid novels Henry disapproved of. She read them in the privacy of her own room and it had been one such night that she’d first gone for a walk in the woods bordering the estate.

  It was also the first night she had returned home disheveled, her hair tangled with leaves and twigs and her bare arms and legs streaked with blood. She was frightened by her misadventure and her lack of memory, but she refused to let Henry call a doctor. Once she’d considered telling James about it, but in the end decided to keep silent. It would have sounded mad. Ah, such bitter irony.

  Now she was here, Henry having spied an advantage in her strange nightly escapades. And Dr. Thorncroft had spied a similar advantage, locking her up and studying her, no doubt for his own unscrupulous gain. If only she’d run off with James when he first suggested it!

  No matter. It wouldn’t be long before she was free. In the meantime she was using the doctor as much as he was using her, learning the limits of her body. Alas, his part in the adventure would not have a happy ending. The moon was getting bigger. Soon it would be full again. And he would have the answers he sought so eagerly.

  Their last session had taken an unexpected turn. She was at the mercy of whatever strange effect the moon had on her and she had seduced him, fucking him like the sexual hysteric he believed her to be. She pressed her legs together, remembering.

  As she slipped her hand up under her nightdress she closed her eyes. Her thoughts strayed first to James and then back to Dr. Thorncroft. She smiled as she imagined herself at the mercy of both men. They could pass her back and forth and have their wicked way with her.

  As her fingers caressed the swollen nub of her clitoris she saw herself subjected to various exquisite indignities. James held her down while Dr. Thorncroft splayed her legs wide apart to peer closely at her, as though he might find the source of her affliction with his dexterous fingers. When she did not cooperate fully he punished her, using a riding whip across her back, her bottom, her breasts. Then James gathered her in his arms and kissed her better, his lips traveling down her throat to her breasts.

  Her nipples tautened at the imagined pleasure and pain while wanton desire surged through her body. It did not take long before she was racked by spasms of ecstasy.

  Outside the moon watched, waiting.

  * * *

  Thorncroft finished writing down his latest set of findings and got up to stretch. He was stiff and sore from the evening’s exertions. Madeleine’s hunger for physical sensation seemed to know no bounds. He had finally succumbed to her charms and was rather exhausted from the episode. Naturally, he wouldn’t record that in his journal, but he had wanted to make notes on a few unusual observations.

  Now he stood at the window, gazing out at the full moon and rubbing at the tense muscles in his arms. Her strength had been surprising, and it had taken all his effort to hold her down. She wanted it rough, she said, wanted to resist and be conquered, wanted him to hurt her.

  “You can do anything to me,” she panted, “anything at all and I’ll heal.”

  And when he hesitated, she scratched him. He’d had to pin her down for his own safety, bruising her slender wrists. He was hardly surprised to find that the force excited her. She fought more, urging him on until he’d had no choice but to oblige, fucking her as he might a whore. She’d screamed her unnatural passion to the heavens until he gagged her, silencing her cries. And then, to his astonishment, she’d climaxed. He hadn’t imagined that women were capable of it themselves. He knew of paroxysm in women only as a clinical treatment for hysteria. But then, Madeleine was no ordinary woman.

  He’d left her then so he could return to his study. As he’d closed and locked her door behind him, he’d been unnerved by her low sultry laugh. There was something animal in it, something like a growl. But he’d shrugged away his uneasiness. The woman was mad, that was all.

  As he turned back to his desk he heard a bloodcurdling scream. Such sounds were common in the asylum, but this one chilled him to the bone. It was more animal than human and it went on for several seconds, tapering at last into a forlorn howl that was like some kind of hellish music. No woman could have produced such a sound.

  And indeed, no woman had. There came another unearthly howl and this one was louder. Closer. He heard chaos throughout the building: shouts, running feet, breaking glass, splintering wood, a gunshot. An eerie silence followed, but it did not last long.

  Something crashed through the window, landing in a shower of glass and lifting its white muzzle to reveal gleaming fangs. But it was the eyes that made him gasp with horror. The familiar slate-gray eyes were wild with a diffe
rent kind of lust as the wolf knocked him easily to the floor and stood over him, growling.

  He only had time to whisper her name before she tore his throat out.

  When James arrived at the asylum he shuddered at the signs of chaos and carnage. Windows were broken, doors were torn off hinges, and what remained of his brother had been carried away by the police beneath a blood-soaked sheet. He felt only a small pang of sorrow. One couldn’t provoke a wild animal with impunity. It was simply the law of nature, and Charles should have had more respect for it.

  “The beast’s upstairs,” said the inspector. “We trapped it in a room for you.”

  James was relieved beyond measure to learn that they hadn’t killed the wolf. When the strange spate of killings had first been reported in the papers months ago he had begged the police to let him take control of the animal should it ever be caught. Such a creature needed studying, he’d told them. It might be the only one of its kind. But it was only tonight, when the moon had risen high and full and he’d planned to rescue Madeleine, that he had made the vital, extraordinary connection.

  “Thank you,” he said, and made his way up the stairs. He could hear the wolf tearing the room apart as he approached.

  The frightened constable guarding the door stared at him, wide-eyed. “You don’t want to go in there, sir.”

  “It’s all right,” James said, holding out the jar of ether he had brought. “All you have to do is open it a crack.”

  The young man looked dubious, but did as he was told. James only had time to glimpse a white blur as he threw the bottle inside. The glass smashed on the hard wooden floor and the policeman slammed the door shut just in time. Then they listened while the wolf snarled and scrabbled at the door, desperate to escape the soporific fumes of the ether. After a while, all was quiet.

  “Looks so peaceful when it’s asleep,” the constable said, keeping his distance.

  “She,” James said softly. He stroked the sleek fur as though the sleeping wolf were a beloved pet. Then he gathered her in his arms and carried her downstairs, where he locked her in the cage he’d brought with him. None of the policemen or orderlies dared to get close, so he was left to load his precious cargo into the carriage himself.

  As the horses drew them away from the asylum he smiled down at the caged animal at his feet, gently stroking her face through the bars. “We’re going home,” he said.

  * * *

  When Madeleine woke she smelled straw, and she gradually became aware of the striped shadows on the floor. She felt groggy and slightly dizzy, as she always did after a night of—what had the doctor called it? Somnambulophrenia? Only this time something was different. With a start she realized what must have happened. She’d escaped the asylum and been arrested. She was in jail! Not only that: she was also stark naked.

  She sat up in her straw-lined cell and stared around her in bewilderment. Naturally, she had never seen the inside of any jail, but she didn’t imagine it should look like the drawing room of a house beyond the cell door. It was only when she tried to stand up that she understood. She wasn’t in jail at all, but a cage.

  “Good morning.”

  The voice startled her and for a moment she couldn’t place it. Of all the voices she had heard in the past few weeks, James Thorncroft’s was the one she had most longed to hear. She could hardly believe it was real.

  “James?” Her own voice trembled as she said his name. “Is it really you?”

  And then his smiling face was before her and she flushed deeply at his nearness, her body responding with hot little throbs. She could smell him, taste him. Her skin remembered his touch and wanted more. And her body held other strange memories. She had a sensation of having been stroked in the night while she slept. Of being carried. Of being watched over.

  He unlocked the cage door and she crept out, feeling self-conscious and disoriented as she got shakily to her feet. “What happened?”

  “You transformed,” he said with a smile. “That’s why you can’t remember anything. I hope you’ll forgive me for locking you up, but it was the only way to keep us both safe. Here, put this on.” He held out a dressing gown of rich blue velvet and she wrapped herself in it gratefully.

  Her mind was still reeling from his casual explanation. “Transformed?”

  “You become something else when the moon is full, Madeleine. A beautiful, exquisite creature who retains no memory of her human form. That’s why you can’t remember your ‘sleepwalking.’ That’s why you heal so rapidly. And that’s why you were imprisoned in that dreadful place. I think a part of me has known all along. I’m only sorry I didn’t realize it sooner.”

  Madeleine thought back to the asylum and its terrible indignities, its delicious stimulations. Her body recalled the experiments, the pain that wasn’t pain but something else, the cold clinical touch she’d found unbearably erotic. She blushed as she relived these moments in her mind and she pressed her legs together as a particular image came back to her. Dr. Thorncroft. He was pinning her down on the bed, plunging himself into her, exciting her beyond measure as he fucked her roughly, brutally, driven to his own special madness by her strange allure. It had been no dream.

  But afterward, what had she done? In her mind were flashes of bright red, of screams and breaking glass. The heady taste of blood. She looked down at the floor.

  “I fear I’ve done terrible things,” she whispered.

  But James lifted her head and made her look at him. “If you’re feeling guilty about anything,” he said firmly, “don’t. When you’re a wolf you respond to your natural instincts as any wolf would. And when you’re human…” Fascination danced in his eyes. “Well, you’re never quite human, are you? I don’t think human rules apply to you at all. In any case, whatever you’ve done, it’s in the past.”

  “So what’s to become of me?” she said, her eyes filling with tears.

  “Shhh. You’re with me now, Madeleine. And I understand both aspects of you. I love both of you. The woman and the wolf.”

  Her gaze softened as she looked up at him. Yes, she could see in his eyes that he did. James knew and forgave every wicked thing she had done. Dr. Thorncroft had been right about her being dangerous; he’d simply been too arrogant to consider that she might be a threat to him. But she was safe with James. He would keep her secret and teach her about her other nature.

  Heat pulsed between her thighs and she glanced down at the cage. “Are you going to…tame me?”

  James’s eyes gleamed with excitement to match her own. “If that’s what you want.” He stroked her face and she closed her eyes with a blissful sigh.

  “You’re what I want,” she murmured. She opened the robe and slipped it off her shoulders. It pooled at her feet and she stood before him, brazenly naked.

  His eyes roamed over her body, studying every soft, silky inch of her. Madeleine felt his gaze as though he were caressing her physically. She’d become used to being examined, inspected, scrutinized. But this time the exploration was not scientific. These were the eyes of a lover. Her lover. The man she was meant to be with.

  James’s hands followed where his eyes had gone, making her skin tingle with their warm softness. He drew his fingers down the line of her throat, along the curve of her ribs and back up between her breasts. Her nipples stiffened with the nearness of his touch as he circled them teasingly, allowing her to savor the anticipation. Then he took a step back and she watched hungrily as he removed his shirt and trousers.

  Madeleine’s heart pounded in rhythm with the throbbing between her legs. Her breathing grew shallow as she pressed herself against James’s broad chest, basking in his warm, musky scent as she felt the hardness of his cock between them. Now that she understood her strange nature she knew why her senses were so acute. Everything—smells, taste and most of all touch—was a sweet torment of heightened stimulation. And it was with a wolf’s primal lust that she climbed into his arms, wrapping her legs around his body.

  He cupped
her bottom with his hands as he carried her to the bed and laid her down. She writhed in the softness of the bedclothes, her sex a warm wet heat desperate for his touch. “Take me,” she murmured. “I want to feel everything.”

  With a smile James lowered his mouth to hers, bruising her lips with his passion. Her tongue sought his, tangling sweetly as they kissed. Then she felt his knee between her legs, nudging them apart. Obediently, she arched her back, presenting herself to him.

  He kissed a trail down her throat, his hands cupped around her breasts, squeezing, kneading. She gasped as he kissed her sensitive nipples, flicking his tongue against the hard little buds, making her shudder. All the while she felt the nearness of his cock at the opening of her sex, felt each little twitch and pulse as he drew out the moment. His willpower was astonishing; her own passion threatened to consume her.

  “Take me,” she gasped at last. “Please!”

  But he clearly intended to savor every moment. His eyes shone with lust but he was still in control. Of himself and of her. It thrilled her. She writhed against him, pleading with her body, but his wicked smile told her who was master.

  “My little wolf,” he said, pinching her nipple, “at the mercy of her primal urges.”

  Madeleine gasped at the sweet pain. Every nerve in her body was wildly alive, wildly stimulated. She pictured herself at her master’s feet, a chain around her neck. She would crouch beside his chair at the dining table and nibble morsels from his hand. And on those nights when the moon was full and she was too dangerous to be allowed to roam free, there was the cage.

  His hand trailed over her breasts, down her belly and inner thighs and back up to where she wanted him most. He teased her slick folds, sliding his finger back and forth across the tiny knot of her clitoris. She gasped as pleasure jolted through her, down through her legs to her feet. His touch was like lightning, making her body leap and buck, setting her on fire.

  She threw back her head with a cry as he pressed the flat of his hand up against her sex, moving it in slow, hard circles. Then he slipped a finger inside her. She felt it stroking the sensitive inner walls, exploring the warm wet center of her desire.