Page 26 of Master Wolf

A minute or two later, the front door opened. Wynne stood there, candle in hand.

Drew had told Wynne he would not come. But he had said it as a man. As a wolf, he was different. Less troubled, more certain—and perhaps Wynne knew that somehow. Drew got to his feet and padded over to the house, slinking up the four steps to the front door and winding past Wynne’s legs to enter the house.

The door closed softly behind them. Wynne said not a word, only turned to mount the stairs and begin to climb. Drew followed, still in his fur. He would stay this way. Stay certain and clear in his thoughts.

When they reached the top of the stairs, he padded down the corridor after Wynne, passing several doors until they reached one near the end. Before he opened it, Wynne dropped down to his haunches, sliding his fingers into the thick fur at the back of Drew’s neck.

He met Wynne’s eyes, a difficult thing to do in his wolf form. It felt like a challenge—something he needed to react to aggressively—but he knew Wynne was doing this because he had something important to say. So he concentrated, making himself listen to Wynne’s foreign, human words, forcing his wolf mind to open up and comprehend them.

“The Wolfsbane in the poultice that he wears next to his skin will not be lethal to you—it’s bound up with other ingredients and some simple magic—but still, it’s best not touch it. It is under the bandages he wears, so leave it there.” He paused, tightening his grip on Drew’s fur, his gaze intense. “What you absolutely mustnotdo is touch the undiluted tincture. There are several containers on his dressing table containing ingredients for the poultice. The tincture is in a blue glass bottle—it’s sealed but leave it alone. There’s enough in there to kill you a hundred times over. Do you understand?”

Drew dipped his head in the best nod he could manage, an awkward, unwolflike gesture he hated making in this form. He was glad to have done so, though, when Wynne, appearing satisfied, got back to his feet and, finally, opened the bedchamber door, allowing Drew to enter.

Drew padded into the bedchamber, nose in the air, scenting. A faint, almost imperceptible smell of profound sickness was everywhere, permeating everything. He had not detected it in his human form but as a wolf he found it obvious and distressing. He gave a soft, unhappy whine. Behind him, the door closed with a soft click.

Lindsay lay on his back in the bed, heaped with covers. His breath was light and wheezy, though it was regular at least. Drew leapt up on to the mattress to investigate further. He was a large wolf and made quite an impact when he landed, his paws leaving muddy prints on the clean linen, yet Lindsay barely stirred, even when Drew padded closer and nosed at the blankets to uncover him a little more. He slept like the dead, his body motionless, his face waxy and pale. Against the translucent skin stretched over his cheekbones, the vulnerable fans of his dark lashes lay still, not even trembling. The only sign he was alive at all was those light, almost imperceptible breaths.

And his scent…

Drew whined, distressed. He could smelldeathon Lindsay.

Was Lindsay dying?

Drew seized the edge of the bedcover with his teeth and pulled at it, uncovering Lindsay’s torso.

Lindsay barely stirred, even as Drew crept closer, nosing at his body.

Everything about him was achingly familiar, the pale skin, the small, dusky nipples, the trail of dark hair that ran from his navel and disappeared under the bedsheet. But he was different too. Thinner and less well-muscled. Fragile-looking.

Lindsay, fragile. God.

Bandages covered most of his left arm, beginning just below his armpit and continuing all the way down to his wrist. His arm was turned wrist-up, and beneath the white linen, Drew could see the dark shape of the poultice stuff, though none of it seeped through the fabric.

Drew growled to see it. And that was when Lindsay finally woke, coming to with a stuttering gasp, plainly startled by the beast looming over him.

“What the—” he muttered, then blinked hard, twice, and seemed to calm. He levered himself up onto his right elbow before saying, his tone disbelieving, “Drew? What are you doing here?”

Drew looked pointedly at his left arm and growled again, then shoved his head against the offending limb, moving it.

Lindsay’s gaze softened. “I know,” he said, “But it’s necessary. I need to—”

Drew growled again and Lindsay gave a sad smile. He leaned forward, pushed his right hand into the thick fur at Drew’s ruff and pulled him close, resting his forehead against Drew’s neck.

“Drew,” he whispered. “It’s been so long since you came to me like this.”

Drew whined softly, soaking up Lindsay’s presence with uncomplicated pleasure, nosing his short hair in search of those elusive rainwater notes, hating that all he could detect were the clamouring scents of sickness and death.

After a few minutes, Lindsay detached himself and sagged back against the pillows again. He held his bandaged arm out to the side, probably trying to keep it away from Drew. But Drew only picked his way closer and nosed at the bandages, growling. When Lindsay tried to pull away, Drew nibbled at a bit of the linen at his wrist, tugging till he loosened a section.

“No! You mustn’t!” Lindsay cried, shoving at Drew with his right arm and drawing his left one back. “You can’t get any of the poultice in your mouth—it will make you sick.”

Drew gave him a look that would have involved raised eyebrows if he were in his human form, and that was probably distinctly odd on a wolf. Then he moved in again, going again for the loose bit of bandage with his teeth.

“No!” Lindsay snapped and tried to shove him back, but he was weak, and Drew was a wolf, a big, powerful one, and he only pressed closer, ducking his big head under Lindsay’s right arm till Lindsay finally held his hand up in surrender and said, “All right, I understand. You want me to take it off.”

Drew gave a short sharp yelp of agreement and Lindsay sighed. “Very well. Just tonight though, since you’re here. I’m putting it back on tomorrow morning.”

Lindsay swung his legs over the bed and stood, straightening slowly, like an old man. Drew gave a tiny whimper of distress watching him.