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Ashwood looked glum. “I know all too well.”
“I’m sorry you’ve suffered so,” Bellamy said. “Perhaps there’s some way to sever our bond. I can ask Madam Langley if—”
“The suppressant will eventually dissolve it,” Ashwood said. “It’s weak now as it is.”
Good, he thought, even as his entire chest ached with profound melancholy. It felt like he would somehow lose a piece of himself. Or perhaps a final link to the man he supposedly loathed but secretly still loved and always would.
The more time he spent here, the more he was bending to Ashwood’s influence. Even lamenting the wolf inside him. Outrageous.
His wildly conflicting thoughts made him lose his appetite. He pushed the tray away, having had his fill of everything, and especially of lying in a bed.
“I would like to get dressed and move about if that’s all right with you.”
Ashwood breathed out as if in relief. “Sounds perfect.” And then he smiled in this genuine way that disarmed Bellamy. The bastard.
Chapter 13
Ashwood brought him a fresh nightshirt to slip over his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll lend you some proper clothing for your journey back to the apothecary.”
Bellamy stood up with effort, using Ashwood’s arm as an anchor. He didn’t want to rely on him but couldn’t deny feeling unstable.
No doubt, Ashwood helped keep him steady as they made their way toward the window so that Bellamy could properly look below to the street. They were indeed on the outskirts of town. He could see the wide breadth of the fields, and he felt something lurch in his chest, a sort of beckoning, as his gaze came to rest on the canopy of trees in the forest. Bellamy trembled. It was crucial to get back to Moon Flower and take the suppressant as soon as possible.
“Are you all right?” Ashwood asked, no doubt feeling the effects as Bellamy clutched his arm for purchase.
Fear seized hold of his chest as he wondered at the possibilities. He attempted to steady his voice. “Are you sure your healing methods did not affect other aspects of me?”
Ashwood stiffened beside him. “What do you mean?”
“Could it have made my wolf stronger?” he asked levelly.
“I would not imagine so.” He looked stricken. “And besides, the suppressant—”
“Which I haven’t taken since I grew ill.”
“I told you our bond feels weak. And you certainly don’t feel it, do you?”
Bellamy shrugged. He didn’t want to lie, and he definitely didn’t want to say he would probably feel a link to him regardless. But it wasn’t like Ashwood had described—some sort of visceral response—or was it?
“Perhaps I’m only confused. Everything feels out of sorts.”
“I’ve done nothing except save you from—”
“It’s all right. I apologize if I seem ungracious,” he said, sighing. He didn’t want them to be cross with each other again. “I’m only feeling strange.”
“In what regard? Besides the obvious.”
“I feel drawn to the forest.” Bellamy’s gaze focused on the fields in front of him.
“You’re a wolf. Of course, you would be—”
“More than usual. The suppressant curbed that, but now…it’s calling to me. It reminds me of when my mother would tell me not to stare too long or it would cast a spell. She would say that about many things that didn’t seem to make sense until now. The moon, the night sky, the woods…it was a warning of sorts, but I wish I knew more.”
“That must be frustrating. I wish there was some way to find out more.”
“The only idea I can come up with is Kipling,” he said and could see Ashwood’s grimace in his side view. “He would be able to tell me how he knew my mother. That’s a start, at least.”
“If he’s willing to share it with you. It will come at a price, I’m afraid.”
Bellamy shivered. Ashwood undoubtedly meant that Kipling would either attempt to hurt him or enlist him. He would need to work out all the possibilities before approaching him.
“Will you help me locate him?”
“Of course, but I fear for your safety. A human or even a young wolf are no match for him.”
Bellamy made a frustrated noise. “There has to be another way.”
“How about we get you well before we discuss any more details?” he said, and Bellamy knew it was an effort to change the subject. But what more could be accomplished now?
“Perhaps you’re right.” He looked behind him to the door. “The only thing I’ve seen is this room. Is there more to this residence?”
Ashwood smiled. “I’d be happy to show you.”
Bellamy followed Ashwood out of the sleeping quarters, but he had to traverse slowly, feeling winded, probably from not being active for quite some time. His muscles felt unsteady, and he had to rely on Ashwood’s arm for support, which made him feel weak, though not as weak as he had earlier.
The idea that Ashwood was able to heal him because he was a wolf—because they both were—still felt impossible. Bellamy had been suppressing his true nature, and now that he was in recovery, he felt strangely different, like his insides were buzzing, alive again, and he was looking at everything through new eyes.
