Page 66 of Master Wolf
Marguerite’s face crumpled, tears springing to her dark, expressive eyes. “How can you say that?” she whispered.
“Because when it comes down to it,” Lindsay said, “A life is defined by the choices a person makes. If I can’t make my own choices, what is the point of any of it?” Lindsay’s gaze moved to Drew then, standing beside Marguerite, and his mouth curved into a familiar and uniquely sweet smile. “You see, my dear—I do understand. Finally.”
Drew found he could not answer him. His voice did not appear to work anymore, and even if it had worked, he could not have articulated his own confused thoughts. The strangest sense of gratitude—at finally beingseen—warred with regret over the death of their bond and a growing conviction that, even without the bond, he felt more connected to Lindsay now than he ever had.
As he gazed at the frail, defiant man before him—the brightest and bravest he’d ever known—Drew finally accepted a truth he had been avoiding for a very long time.
He was connected to Lindsay by something far more permanent than the mate bond. Something that Wolfsbane could not touch.
He loved Lindsay.
In that moment, he realised something: when the last trace of their mate bond was finally severed, for good and all, it may turn out that Lindsay would get what Drew had wanted all these long years.
Freedom.
Freedom from Drew. From a man who understood nothing of his own heart and who had never been able to make another person happy.
Strangely, Drew found he wanted that for Lindsay. Even knowing now, that it was not something he would ever have for himself.
Chapter Twenty
It wasgrey and drizzling when they set off for Bainbridge’s house the next day. The days were very short now, and though it was only a little after three o’clock in the afternoon, the sun—which was little more than a borehole of hazy light behind the heavy clouds—was already low in the sky.
It would be dark before long.
“Are you sure you don’t want to ride inside?” Wynne asked, glancing at Drew. He was driving and Drew was riding up top alongside him.
“Yes,” Drew said shortly.
Wynne smiled ruefully.“I don’t blame you. Mim is in a strange mood today.”
“She is,” Drew agreed. “And it is difficult for me to be at close quarters with her when she is like this.”
“It must be strange for you,” Wynne said. “Knowing how other people feel all the time, just from how they smell.”
Drew shrugged. “I don’t always know what people’s scents mean,” he said. “Sometimes it’s obvious, but often there are too many emotions tangling up in complicated ways. Francis reads scents far better than I do.”
Wynne looked thoughtful.
Drew said, “Since you took up magic again, you have been careful to mask your scent from me. Why do you do that?”
Wynne shrugged a negligent shoulder. “I don’t care for my feelings to be known.”
“I can understand that,” Drew said. “If it helps, I can assure you that even when I can read people, I don’t go around telling others what I detect.”
Wynne nodded. “I know,” he said simply. “All the same. I prefer to keep my feelings private. Particularly the ones that are unreciprocated.”
“What makes you think they’re—” Drew began, then scowled. “Wait—are you fishing for information?”
Wynne laughed, a soft amused sound that somehow had a bleak edge. “I already know that my feelings are not entirely unreciprocated. Perhapsmisalignedis a better word.”
He gave his attention to the horses then, steering the carriage around a tight corner as their great hooves churned up the path, spraying mud.
“Colinton village is just down there,” Wynne said once they were round the bend, pointing at a collection of rooftops with his whip. He had ridden out alone the day before to check the route. “Spylaw Tower is about a quarter of a mile outside the village. We will be there very soon.”
Sure enough, only a few minutes later, he was slowing the horses to a stop outside a pair of high gates. Drew jumped down to open them and Wynne steered the horses through, waiting while Drew closed them again.
“I’ll get inside the carriage now,” Drew said, and Wynne nodded.