Page 77 of Master Wolf

“What is it?” Lindsay said. “Drew?”

He couldn’t speak, couldn’t explain. Couldn’t tell him that help was coming and soon. All he could do was hang on, worrying at Duncan, who still writhed below him.

He felt the instant, a few seconds later, when Duncan—who did not share Drew’s sensitive nose—registered the same scent. Felt him seize up with astonishment and shock. Then renew his efforts to dislodge Drew.

This time he succeeded, sending Drew crashing to the side, but instead of turning on him, or indeed Lindsay, he backed up, his eyes reflecting his panic and longing. And then he began to shift back to his human form.

Lindsay gaped at him, astonished, but as vulnerable as shifting made Duncan, his actions made sense—it was hard enough to try to resist one’s maker in human form with the power of speech at one’s disposal. In wolf form it was impossible.

Drew considered moving in on Duncan again. If he attacked now during his transformation, he might have a chance, but even as he weighed up the possibility, his gaze went to Lindsay, who was now braced against the wall, grey and exhausted, using the cane to hold himself up.

Keeping a watchful eye on Duncan, Drew padded over to Lindsay, nudging his thigh with his nose. Lindsay gave a shaky laugh and touched Drew’s head, stroking him gently.

“I’m done,” Lindsay whispered. His hand slid from Drew’s head, and his thin body slid down the wall he leaned against. He landed clumsily on the floor and closed his eyes. Drew whined and paced, eyeing Duncan. who was now almost fully shifted.

But it was going to be all right—Francis’s scent was intensifying, getting closer. And then, quite suddenly, he was actuallythere, his voice calling out their names, his thin, intelligent face peeping round the doorframe. In an instant he was in the room, scrambling over the fallen wardrobe, his expression horrified as he saw Lindsay’s barely conscious form and Drew’s anxiously pacing wolf.

Duncan had fully shifted back to human now and as he climbed to his feet—in all his impressive nudity—he glared defiantly at Francis, his face frozen in a snarl.

“Stay back,” Francis said, gesturing towards Drew with his hand without taking his eyes off Duncan. “Guard Lindsay.”

The tangle of powerful scents in the room made Drew’s head reel: anger and longing and resentment—even a strange, fierce joy. Drew whined softly, overwhelmed with these new swirling emotions competing with his own.

Francis’s initial horrified expression had already faded, a familiar determination settling over his delicate features as he strode toward Duncan.

He lifted his hand, palm outward, and began to speak.

“You will not—”

“No!” Duncan roared. He snatched the blue bottle from dressing table and yanked out the stopper, casting the contents at Francis with a jerk of his wrist. “You willnevercommand me again.”

The tincture arced out of the bottle. To Drew’s wolf eyes—eyes that saw every shade of grey—it was a shining silver ribbon, unfurling in the air. Francis raised his arms instinctively and the ribbon exploded, covering his outstretched palms and splattering across the unprotected right side of his face.

Wolfsbane. Pure unadulterated Wolfsbane.

“Francis!” Lindsay cried hoarsely. “God,no!” He tried raise his body from the ground but fell back weakly. Drew whined.

“What is… this?” Francis said. He was staring at his hands, an almost comical expression of surprise on his expressive face before his legs gave out and he collapsed, falling clumsily to his knees.

Duncan’s eyes were wide with shock. “What’s happening?” he croaked. Francis was wheezing now, bracing his hands on the floor.

For the second time that night—indeed, for the second time in his whole life—Drew’s wolf surrendered to him, willingly ceding control of his body. The shift was swift and agonising enough to provoke a howl that turned to a cry as his human form reasserted itself. He went to move forward, to rush to Francis’s side, but Lindsay’s fingers grabbed his wrist. His grip was weak, but when Drew glanced back at him, he was shaken to his very soul by Lindsay’s distraught expression.

“Don’t,” Lindsay pleaded. “If you touch him, you’re dead. He won’t want that.”

“Dead?” Duncan said wildly. “What do you mean? You said you’ve been using it foryears.”

“I began with a single drop each day,” Lindsay replied. “Even now, I use no more than five drops. And you see what it has done to me.”

Duncan was white now, staring at Francis, who was dying in front of him.

Drew could not let his friend die alone. He tugged his wrist gently from Lindsay’s weak grip. “I’m sorry—Ihaveto…”

Tears gleamed in Lindsay’s dark eyes, but he nodded and let Drew go.

“Drew, no,” Francis gasped, managing to lift one arm and hold it, palm out, fending Drew off. “Do not come closer.”

Somehow, he managed to struggle up onto his knees. Then he reached out to Duncan.“Come here.”