Page 13 of Master Wolf

At last she said, “I did not know for certain you would come until we spoke, so no. I did not want to tell him I would be asking you without being sure what your answer was.”

Drew’s heart sank. “So, he has no idea I’m coming with you?”

“Do not worry,” Marguerite said a little testily. “He will not bother you. He swore off pursuing you years ago, and you should know by now you can trust his word.”

“I’m not worried,” Drew bit out.

She raised a brow. “Then what is the problem?”

Drew frowned. “It feels”—he broke off, searching for the right word—“It feels unfair. For me to turn up on his doorstep without warning, I mean.”

Unfairdidn’t exactly do justice to the complicated tangle of feelings swirling inside him, but it would have to do.

“Why is that unfair?” Marguerite asked. “Youdid not promise to stay away fromhim.”

“Well, no, but the last time we saw each other…” Drew’s mouth dried up, remembering.

“You are not seeking him out. You are just following orders.Myorders.” Marguerite picked up her cutlery again, turning her attention back to her dinner. “I will make him aware of that. He will understand.”

She was right, but it didn’t matter. All Drew could think about was that last night in Venice. Twelve years on and he remembered it as though it was yesterday. He could picture Lindsay now, his elegant body negligently sprawled over the velvet sofa, a beautiful boy in his lap. He’d been dressed for a masquerade, a black mask covering the top half of his face, his hair coming loose from the queue at the nape of his neck—unfashionable to wear it so long, even twelve years ago, but Lindsay was nothing if not his own man.

Later Drew had stripped that costume away, threaded his fingers through Lindsay’s long, dark tresses, entered his tight, willing body.

He hadn’t realised then that it would be the last time.

“I may not be able to free you, Drew, but I can, at least, stay away from you from now on.”

Drew glanced down at his nearly full dinner plate and pushed it aside, causing Marguerite to glance his way again.

“You really should eat,” she said. “We are getting closer to the full moon. It is easier to control your wolf when you are not hungry.”

“I’ll eat later,” he muttered.

She gave a small sniff. “You are always peevish when we discuss Lindsay.”

Irritated, he snapped, “That’s because when we discuss him, you usually spend most of the time telling me off for my behaviour towards him.”

Now she raised both brows at him.

Sighing, he admitted, “Apart from this time.”

“Quite so,” Marguerite said. “Though, for what it is worth, I still believe you are an idiot. It is perfectly obvious that you belong together. Your wolf knows it, even if you do not”

Drew sighed. This was an old argument. “My wolf is a slave. That is the nature of the bond.”

Marguerite pressed her lips together. “You are very dramatic,” she said. “With your talk ofmastersandslaves.”

“Perhaps. But you cannot deny that, at the very least, the bite creates an unequal bond,” Drew continued. “If Lindsay says ‘come’ I have no choice but to come. Or ‘run’ and I run, or ‘eat’ and I eat. That is not my idea of how mates are, with one all-powerful and the other a mere puppet. How can it be?”

“But he doesnotsay ‘come’ or ‘run’ or ‘eat,’ does he?” Marguerite said fiercely. “He does not treat you as a slave because he knows better than anyone how that feels. He was Duncan’s prisoner for forty years.”

“I know, and yes, his master was cruel. Mine is kind,” Drew replied. “But a yoke is still a yoke, no matter how lightly it sits. The fact is, I have no will of my own with Lindsay, and thatreducesme.”

“It need not be like that,” Marguerite protested. “I never felt that way with Alys.”

“Did you consider yourself her equal?”

She opened her mouth to answer, then seemed to consider and closed it again.