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“I first met Ashwood in Beggar’s Hole, when we both worked under a keeper called Mr. Gladstone. But Ashwood had a former keeper—Kipling—”
“Bell,” Ashwood said, concern in his tone.
“Please, Ash. I’d like to share some of it,” he said nearer to his ear. “It’s not painful anymore. Not like it would be to lose you again.”
Ashwood reached over and knotted their fingers together, holding his gaze. “All right.”
“Kipling was not a good man,” Bellamy said. “He beat Ashwood and left him for dead.”
“But not before I hurt Bellamy, deeply, something I will try to make up for, for the rest of our lives.”
“I’ve already forgiven you.” Bellamy lifted their hands and kissed his knuckles. “And you’ve more than made up for it.”
Galen and Azriel stayed silent, but given their expressions, they seemed both intrigued and concerned. Bellamy didn’t think they needed all the details. Some were for them to keep sacred between them.
“So that’s why you hid at Moon Flower,” Galen said, and Bellamy nodded. “Trying to get over your heartbreak.”
“Yes,” he admitted, and Ashwood looked away, perhaps feeling their scrutiny. Bellamy almost told them that Ashwood had known where he was all along, but then he’d have to admit they were mates in the truest sense of the word, and he was still nervous about their reaction.
Azriel cleared his throat. “When you became ill with violet fever, Ashwood nursed you back to health?”
“Yes,” Ashwood replied. “The treatments weren’t working, and he was nearing death.”
“Was it…because of the suppressant?” Azriel asked, his voice soft and hesitant.
Bellamy sputtered. “How did you…?”
Azriel grimaced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…I worked closely with Madam Langley in the apothecary, and with Madam Fairborn as well, so I was privy to much of their experimentation.”
“You can trust us,” Galen said suddenly, and realization dawned—Galen and Azriel knew about them. They didn’t need to hide.
Bellamy’s muscles uncoiled. It would be all right. They were among friends.
“It’s actually a relief that you finally know,” Bellamy said as Ashwood’s fingers tightened around his.
Azriel grinned. “It also explains how you arrived. And when you’re ready, it would be fascinating to hear more about your travels.”
“Through the woods, of course, with the earth beneath our feet.” Bellamy felt his entire face heat up. He was a werewolf. And it was just beginning to fully sink in.
Galen blinked several times, as if imagining it. Perhaps it was fully sinking in for him as well.
“And what of this Kipling fellow? Are you still in danger?” Azriel asked in an ominous tone, no doubt remembering his own bouts with the constable, another threatening man.
“As it turns out, Dragon’s Blood is deadly to our kind,” Ashwood said, and Azriel gaped, knowing the plant had been used in their antidote for the sickness.
“That contributed to you not getting well?” Azriel asked, wide-eyed.
“It did. But I don’t blame the madams. In fact, I’m grateful for their assistance. It helped slow Kipling down long enough in the forest so that we might…fight him.”
“Since you don’t look any worse for wear, you must’ve gotten the upper hand?” Galen asked with wonder in his voice.
“Eventually,” Ashwood replied. “He’s no longer a threat, but we’re not sure about the rest of his pack.”
Bellamy made a noise of assent. “We decided to leave for the time being, go far enough away that no one would find us.”
“Sounds like the right decision.” Galen stood to clear their empty plates. “We’re happy to have you as our guests.”
Once the dishes were cleared, spirits shared, and more stories relayed, Azriel yawned. “You’re free to stay as long as you wish. It’s obvious you have some decisions to make.”
“Are you certain?” Bellamy bit his lip, hoping their sudden arrival didn’t overwhelm them.
“We would love it,” Galen said. “Let me show you to your room. The twins found it rather cozy during their visit.”
When Bellamy heard Azriel’s soft snort, he had a feeling he knew exactly what they meant.
Azriel and Ashwood fell into a discussion about the herbs lining the windows, Ashwood particularly interested in the blooming species. Bellamy smiled, loving the notion of Ashwood immersing himself in something he enjoyed.
“Oh, this is perfect,” Bellamy said when Galen showed him their room. “The twins no doubt went on about it after their visit. Oscar likely getting his own ideas.”
Galen grinned. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven Oscar?”
He smirked. “Who can stay angry at the lad? Besides, he gets to gloat that he was right about his ridiculous fairy-tale notions.”
He thought of Oscar’s fairy-tale scenario with Mr. Walters, and wished Oscar would be able to find his own happy ending.
“Speaking of Oscar and his notions…” Galen lowered his voice. “Would you like me to read Ashwood’s aura—to tell you his intentions?”
Bellamy was startled, remembering a conversation that seemed so long ago now. Oscar had teased him about hiding from Ashwood, and wondered if Galen could read his aura to settle their puzzling separation once and for all.
