A Certain Wolfish Charm (35 page)

   "I don't doubt it."

   "And you love her," Alice continued.

   "Of course I do."

   "Prove it, Simon."

Lily walked slowly down the garden path, the book tucked securely under her arm. It was a bit intimidating, knowing she might hold the key to the door Simon kept closed to her.

   She brushed a lock of hair from her face as she opened the book and began to read the inscription again. She traced her finger over the words, wondering who'd scrawled the note.

   What did it mean? The definition of a Lycan slowed her reading.

Lycans are defined by their ability to walk upright as
humans. The shift from human to
were
is decided by the
phase of the moon.

   The moon?

   What did this have to do with Simon? Simon was obviously human. As was Will. And all the other Westfield men.

   Oliver? Certainly it was a coincidence that Oliver had undergone so many changes. Wasn't it?

   What change? Becoming wolf? That was impossible.

   The desk?

   She could understand why. But the book still seemed to be more of a fairy tale than anything that could possibly be real. She assumed that anyone reading it could find some trait of a werewolf in almost any person, if they looked deeply enough.

   Lily read until it was too dark to make out the words, devouring the entire book as the sun moved across the sky. And it wasn't until she reached the very end that she saw it. She tipped the book toward the moon so she could read the words.

   Lily jumped to her feet. The book thudded to the ground. Simon! Simon had a mark like that. Oliver had a mark like that. Simon said it was a family trait, that Will, Benjamin, and Daniel all had one, too.

   Simon was a werewolf? It was too difficult to believe. Lily ran down the path toward the house and through the back door. She had to find more books. She had to read more. Surely there would be more Lycanthropic lore if the men of the household were truly werewolves.

   Lily ran down the corridor toward the library. And that was where her wolf stalked her.

"Where have you been?" a voice asked from the corner of the darkened library.

   Lily spun on her heels, searching the darkness. "Simon?" she asked.

   "I asked where you have been, Lily." He leaned forward in his chair so his face was illuminated by the light of the nearly full moon that shone through the window.

   "I-I was in the garden. Reading." Lily smoothed her hands on her skirts, trying to remove the wetness from her palms.

   "I was looking for you," Simon said as he raised a glass of amber liquid to his lips.

   "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Did you need something?"

   Simon stood and stalked across the room, moving slowly toward her. "Just you," he said quietly.

   She suddenly felt like prey.

   "It's nice to be needed." She smiled, raising a hand to touch his face once he was close enough. She gasped as Simon growled and touched his teeth to the inside of her wrist. He abraded her skin and then licked lightly across the area. She felt that lick all the way to her toes.

   "Cold?" he asked when she shivered, his eyes, black as night, meeting hers.

   "Not a bit," she breathed.

   Simon stepped toward her, forcing her to walk backward. She stepped back until she hit the wall. His hands came up to press against the wall on both sides of her head. She couldn't help but think she was well and truly trapped.

   His lips pressed against hers, nearly painful with the intensity of his caress. She whimpered against him, but he paid her no heed.

   "Is this new?" he asked as he tugged at her bodice when he finally lifted his head.

   "Yes," she whispered. "You bought it."

   "I'll buy you another." Then the fabric tore as he ripped it from top to bottom and shoved it from her shoulders.

   Lily could do no more than gasp. She was terrified. But she was more terrified of her own reaction to Simon than she was of his actions toward her. She grew wet, her center pulsing as he cupped her breasts in his hands and lifted them to his face, pushing the centers together so he could draw both peaks into his mouth at once.

   Lily reached for his shoulders when her legs weakened. She glanced toward the door.

   "The door's open, Simon," she had the sense to whisper.

   "I don't care," he said as he slid his leg between her thighs and rocked her body against it.

   She immediately cried out. And then repeated the motion on her own.

   His eyes narrowed. "Do it again," he said. She rocked against him once more, wetness flooding his pants leg as she did so.

   "I want you," he said quietly. "Here. Now."

   "Yes," was all she could say.

   Simon pulled his thigh from between her legs and adjusted to free himself from his trousers. Effortlessly, he lifted her, pushing her against the wall as he slid into her in one hard, fast thrust.

   Lily cried out. Simon pushed her face into his shoulder. "Someone will hear you," he said. "They'll know that I'm taking you like an animal in the library."

   She watched his face shift as he realized what he'd said and began to withdraw from her. Lily leaned forward and nibbled his neck, lightly abrading his skin with her teeth.

   He growled and filled her again. She pressed her face into his shoulder as she lifted her legs to wrap around his waist. She took him deeper. He slammed into her again. And again. And again. And finally, when she could take no more, he allowed her to splinter into a million pieces and then followed.

Simon held her there against the wall while he caught his breath. What had he done? He'd lost control. He'd hurt her. He'd used her. He'd taken her in a
library
with the door open like she was a common whore.

   "Oh, God, I'm sorry," he mumbled.

   "Why?" she asked, her legs still wrapped around his waist.

"I was out of control," he said.

"No…" she began, but he refused to let her speak.

   "I was. I was out of control." Simon dropped her legs to the floor and let her stand. "And I ruined your dress." He tried to pull the edges together. But the damage was too severe. He took off his jacket and slid it around her shoulders. He righted his trousers and picked her up in his arms to carry her up the steps. Simon wondered absently where the rest of the household was. But he paid little attention to their absence. He had to get Lily upstairs before someone saw what he'd done to her.

   He took the stairs two at a time. He laid her gently on the bed and took her face in his hands. "You deserve better than me," he ground out.

   He shushed her protest and lay with her for a moment, until her breaths became regular and quiet.

   Once she slept, he got up, dressed, and left the room.

   "Billings!" he called once he reached the bottom step.

   "Yes, Your Grace?" The man appeared as though magically summoned.

   "Have two horses readied and find Maberley. We'll be leaving tonight, instead of tomorrow."

   "Yes, Your Grace."

   Simon needed to get far away from Lily before he hurt her. Before he went too far and she ended up hating him.

"You wanted to see me, Blackmoor?" Oliver asked, rubbing his eyes as he stepped into the study.

   Simon stared up at the lad, his vision clear, his memory of losing control still fresh in his mind. "We're starting for Surrey tonight. Grab your satchel and meet me in the stables."

   "Tonight?" Oliver covered a yawn with his hand. "I thought we were going to leave in the morning. I didn't get to say good-bye to Aunt Lily, and Cook said—"

   "Tonight!" Simon snapped. Then he closed his eyes and tried to maintain his temper. After all, it wasn't Oliver's fault that he had lost control with Lily. He took some calming breaths before slowly opening his eyes.

   Oliver looked frightened, standing with his back against the wall, his brown eyes focused like beacons on Simon.

   "We're close to the full moon, Oliver. We have to go. I'm afraid I may hurt Lily if we stay another night."

   Before he could finish his statement, the lad rushed from the room. At least he now understood the urgency.

   Simon awaited Oliver in the stables. Abbadon was saddled and ready, as was Erebus. Simon never would have thought the boy could handle the Anglo-Arabian, but he apparently had Daniel's skill with horseflesh. The gelding adored Oliver, which was nothing short of a miracle.

   After only a few moments, Oliver entered the stables, his eyes red-rimmed and with a leather satchel slung over one shoulder. His furious glare brought Simon up short. "If you ever hurt her, I will kill you."

   Simon nodded. If he ever hurt Lily, he'd kill himself. There was no need for Maberley to bloody his hands. "Well, that's why we're leaving."

   In one fluid move, Oliver mounted the AngloArabian with the grace of an expert horseman. "What are you waiting for, Blackmoor?"

   The lad's protective qualities were admirable, especially in a boy so young. Simon mounted Abbadon, all the while keeping his eyes locked with his cousin's. "Follow close, and don't get lost."

   Oliver nodded. Then a look of doubt entered his eyes. "Are you not afraid of highwaymen?"

   Simon threw back his head and laughed. He needed that release immensely. "God help the highwayman who thinks he can stop two Lycans."

   With that, they rode into the night under the bright light of a nearly full moon.

   It was quite a shock to wake up and discover that her husband and nephew were already gone. No note. No good-bye. Nothing.

Into the woods
. That's what Cook had said. Had they even gone to Surrey? Or were they hiding in the woods? Waiting for the moon to wane?

   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?"