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“You pushed too much, and I wasn’t ready to share any of this. I didn’t know how anyone would respond to my being…well…”
“You being a wolf. You can say it. I always believed those creatures were real in some way. Even when others thought they were tall tales.”
“I am not a creature. I am…human.”
“With lupine blood,” he replied with a pointed look. “Maybe only a drop because you never changed or shifted or whatever. At least not in front of us.”
“That’s because Madam Langley was helping me suppress my true self so I didn’t turn. I didn’t want to be a wolf. I lost too much, and I don’t want to be like the people who—” Oscar’s eyes were wide, his lips parted as he panted, which made Bellamy pause. “What?”
“You’ve been suppressing this brilliant gift inside you? Why would you do such a thing? You would have incredible power and speed and…and you could’ve scared the constable just by baring your teeth and perhaps—”
“How dare you!” Bellamy strained his throat, his stomach churning. Oscar reminding him how the constable of Lunar’s Reach had passed away under their watch, after having too much of Madam Langley’s moon-flower tea, brought forth those same cloying feelings of the horrible man. “You cannot blame what happened at Moon Flower on me. The constable could’ve turned me in, had me imprisoned, killed me even.” He shivered, thinking of the lupine annihilation.
“I’m not blaming you. Only trying to make sense of everything. We all miss you and want you well,” he said solemnly. “I’m only trying to piece everything together with the little you’ve given me—”
“You are positively exhausting.” Bellamy wheezed, which nearly created a coughing fit. He didn’t think he had the energy to explain, but somehow he needed Oscar to understand. “You’ve always had romanticized views of Ashwood, but you know nothing of what happened between us. You’d rather let the man who betrayed me take me to his…whatever this place is, than keep me safe from him and let me die with dignity.”
Oscar gasped, and then he closed his mouth, perhaps for the first time unable to think of what to say. Brilliant. Perhaps he would stop trying to make a mess of things.
Bellamy shut his eyes briefly, attempting to steady his racing pulse. For Oscar’s part, he simply stared as if considering all Bellamy had said.
“Ashwood betrayed you? You never said any such thing. Only that you were hiding from him. He doesn’t seem to want to hurt you. It seems as if he…well…adores you.”
Bellamy felt a tightening in his chest, like a screw. He remembered feeling that affection from Ashwood and returning it tenfold. The tenderness in his eyes that was only outdone by the softness of his hand as they slept side by side…
“It’s all pretend.” Bellamy shuddered. A full-body shudder. If only Oscar knew. Knew how the man had deceived him. Had made him believe they would have a happy future together as soon as they came of age and escaped Gladstone. Little did he know that Gladstone was a lesser threat than Ashwood and the men he surrounded himself with.
But Oscar was also right. He’d kept it all to himself, relegated all the profound emotions to a darkened area of his heart. Had slammed the door and secured the hatches. Of course, Madam Langley knew some of it, though perhaps not the full scope. But she was a smart woman who left little to chance. She knew Bellamy needed to escape and took him in, then helped him suppress the worst parts of himself.
“Pretend?” Oscar asked now in a pitched tenor. “How could his fondness for you be imaginary if he believes you are fated to be together?”
“I don’t… Never mind. I don’t have the strength to rehash everything that’s happened between us.”
“Please, Bellamy, I need you to…before…” His eyes filled with tears. “Before it’s too late. Please help me understand.”
“All right.” Bellamy swallowed, attempting to clear his throat. “He was acting a part, doing his handler’s bidding. He lied to me so he could bring me into his pack, despite knowing what that would do to me.”
He’d thought long and hard about it while at Moon Flower. Some nights he lay awake, trying to reason his way through, as painful as it was to relive. All their more tender moments were excruciating to remember. He’d also considered that perhaps they wanted him dead like his mother but could not do it under the watchful eye of Gladstone and his cronies, who were powerful in their own right. He didn’t know for sure and hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out. He’d been terrified and heartbroken and furious.
Besides, the wolves and Gladstone weren’t that different. The man who’d been his keeper had been fighting for territory and a right to exist as well, and would send his henchmen to make trouble if others tried to infringe on the corners where the kids he kept begged. At least Gladstone didn’t go around murdering others like the wolves, though how could he be so sure? The wolves were so evil, they’d killed his mother, an innocent person. Would Gladstone have done the same?
