Page 52 of Master Wolf
“I had to return to the ball for a while,” Drew said. “But after, Marguerite and I shifted and ran—it was full moon last night. And my wolf”—he paused briefly—“led me back here.”
He’d hoped that confession might lessen Lindsay’s hostility. But if anything Lindsay appeared even unhappier. His eyes narrowed and he said baldly, “Why?”
“I don’t know,” Drew said defensively, “My wolf and I do not exactly see eye to eye on everything as you well know.”
Lindsay turned away, muttering “Jesus Christ,” in an exasperated tone.
“What?” Drew demanded.
Lindsay threw his hands into the air in plain frustration. “Oh, I don’t know! You’ve spent the last three decades begging me to leave you alone, and the moment I do as you ask, here you are. Coming to my bed two nights in a row. Telling me your wolf brought you. I just—I can’t fathom it!”
Drew flushed and set his jaw, but he said nothing to defend himself. What could he say? Lindsay was right, but he could offer no explanation for his contradictory behaviour. And what he said was true: his wolfhadbrought him here. Was that his fault?
Lindsay gave a sigh of frustration. “You’ve always insisted you didn’t want the bond. I admit it took me a long time to believe you, Drew, butI believe you now. And I can honestly say since that last time in Venice, I’ve done everything I can to try to break this bond I forced on you.” He paused. “You’re free now, Drew, just like you always wanted.”
Drew stared at him, his chest heavy and aching. He felt angry and lost and as though he was grieving something, all at the same time.
What he didn’t feel was free. Not remotely.
“Can’t you see why I find it difficult to have you coming here like this?” Lindsay went on, exasperation and misery bleeding into his voice. “That it’s hard for me to have you showing concern towards me?”
The realisation that Lindsay didn’t want Drew here was curiously hurtful and he found himself hitting back bitterly.
“Why should it matter if I come?” he bit back. “If you’re right and there’s nothing between us anymore?”
“For Christ’s sake, Drew!” Lindsay cried. “Stop being wilfully blind! There is not and there will never benothingbetween us! Perhaps on your side—I accept that. But my feelings are unchanged. They began before I bit you, and I feel them still.” He rubbed his hand against his chest, as though trying to ease a pain there.
Drew’s wolf scrabbled and whined desperately inside him. His heart was heavy and painful in his chest, and a hot, messy ball of grief was lodged in his throat.
“You say I’m free,” he said thickly, “but I felt your will just a few minutes ago.”
“What do you mean?”
“That push I feel from you sometimes. It’s your will exerting itself. When your wolf tries to compel me.”
“Compel you?”—Lindsay stared at Drew in frustrated disbelief—“I havenevercompelled you! Not once.”
Drew rose from the bed and approached Lindsay, careless of his nakedness.
“Do you think I don’t know how it feels to have you forcing your will on me?” he said, watching Lindsay.
Lindsay gave a bark of incredulous laughter. “Iknowyou don’t! You haven’t the faintest idea, because I’ve never done it.”
Drew frowned. “Yes you have,” he said. “Maybe you didn’t intend to—maybe you didn’t even know it was happening—but I can assure you, I have felt it.”
Lindsay laughed, an ugly scoffing sound. “No, my love. You have not felt what it is to be compelled. If it had happened, we would both know. It is unmistakable.”
“Do it then,” Drew said, squaring his shoulders. “Show me what’s sounmistakable.”
Lindsay’s gaze slid away. “I can’t. I told you, the bond’s almost gone.”
“Try,” Drew challenged. “I think your wolf managed to heal you a little overnight. Like I said, I felt something from you, just a few minutes ago.”
Lindsay shook his head unhappily. “I promised I would never compel you.”
“But I’maskingyou to do it,” Drew replied.
He wanted it now. Wanted to feel that familiar, unsettling push. Wanted to know that the troublesome emotions coursing through him had an explanation.