Page 29 of Master Wolf
Wynne looked unhappy at that, but he nodded and left the bedchamber.
Drew’s gut was in knots. He hated the thought of Lindsay putting the poison on his arm again, but he could tell by his determined expression that there was no way of persuading him to leave it off.
Even so, he tried.
“Lindsay, don’t put that stuff on your arm again. Please.”
Lindsay’s expression settled into mulishness. “Why?”
“It’s… killing you.”
The words were shocking said aloud. He could hardly believe he’d uttered them, but Lindsay only shrugged. “Look on the bright side. Once I’m out the way, you won’t have to worry about being compelled by me anymore.”
Drew felt as though he’d been struck. “How can you say that?” he whispered. “I would never want you to—” He stopped, swallowing hard against a bolt of sudden nausea.
“Die?” Lindsay asked. His gaze was bleak.
“Stop it,” Drew croaked. He felt very odd—almost as though he wasn’t in his body at all. Inside him, the wolf was scrabbling, as though on a cliff edge desperately seeking safe footing.
Lindsay said nothing, watching Drew.
“I would never—havenever wanted that,” Drew said urgently. “I just can’t bear that I have these feelings forced on me.”
Lindsay dark eyes sparked with sudden anger. “I’ve neverforcedany feelings on you. And I can assure you, you’re not being forced now. The Wolfsbane is keeping my wolf entirely suppressed. I can’t feel my old hold over you at all—no more than I can feel Duncan’s over me—and the bond between us will very soon be entirely gone. In a matter of days, I think.”
Drew blinked. “But I—”
“What?”
Drew stared at him. How to explain thathestill felt something. Not the clamouring, almost physical force he was used to but something insidious and secret. A tendril, reaching out, delicately but tenaciously knotting Lindsay to him.
“Perhaps you can’t feel it because you’re not well,” Drew finally managed.
Lindsay sighed. “I’m not well,” he agreed, “But that’s not it. The Wolfsbane is eradicating the bond between my wolf and me, and by association, my bonds with you and Duncan.” He smiled, almost sweetly. “I realised a long time ago, that until my mind could resist Duncan’s influence I would never be free of him. Now, finally, I will be able to do that. I’m almost ready for him, Drew.”
Drew would have laughed if it wasn’t so tragic. Duncan MacCormaic was a mighty tree of a man, with shoulders like a set of barn doors and arms like a blacksmith. The thought of Lindsay facing him in his present state would have been laughable if it wasn’t so horrifying.
“Lindsay—” he began, then found he couldn’t go on. Because wouldn’t Drew have felt exactly the same way in Lindsay’s shoes? “What are you going to do?” he demanded instead. “Fight him?”
Lindsay grinned suddenly, and somehow that flash of impudence—a glimpse of the old irrepressible Lindsay—made Drew’s whole chest seize up like a blocked dam.
“If need be,” Lindsay said with an insouciant shrug. “The truth is, I’d rather die trying to free myself of him than live another half-century like this, always looking over my shoulder, wondering when he’ll appear again and try to drag me back to that filthy dungeon.”
“But you can’t win against him,” Drew whispered.
“Why not?” Lindsay said. “Besides—”
He broke off.
“Besides what?” Drew said.
For a brief moment, Lindsay met his eyes. Then he said softly. “Besides… it’s none of your concern, Drew. You made it clear a long time ago you didn’t want to be part of my life.”
He turned from Drew and walked unsteadily to the dressing table, sitting himself down in front of the myriad bottles and jars.
“Go and eat,” he said gently, without looking at Drew. “I prefer to do this in private.”
Chapter Nine