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“Is that so?” Master Bow’s lips turned up in a devilish grin. Wesley thought Master Bow might even approve of his activities. “Then I propose a crash course in monster etiquette is in order.”
“Human. Need magic. Shift.” Now that Wesley had been taken from the woodlands and the fae, this could be his very last chance to shift. Maybe this master and the countess would know the spells he needed. Have medicine. Anything to reverse this wretched curse.
Master Bow and the countess shared a look. Wesley growled, but neither of them flinched.
“We’re afraid we’ve never heard of an instance of where the virus is reversible,” the countess finally said.
“By the start of the Ball, we’ll have you ready to accept yourself just as you are. As a strong, smart, handsome beast,” Master Bow added.
“Phillipa.”
The two humans looked at each other again. They didn’t have to speak. The energy between them was thick enough to taste, and get stuck in his throat. Neither would guarantee that he could win over his wife like this.
But he had to try. He couldn’t imagine his life without her. Even in these months since he’d lost his humanity—how long had it been? Time passed differently in wolven form—he’d watched over her. Lived for a glimpse of that coppery hair. Held his breath every time her laugh caught in the wind.
She was his wife, but she’d become his obsession. The only thing that kept him going in this dark time.
Manservants brought him to his room. He hadn’t been inside a house since he’d succumbed to the virus, and it was overwhelming to every single one of his senses. People everywhere. The smells of what promised to be a grand meal wafted from the kitchen. It had been so long since he’d had a real meal, and his mouth was watering at the thought of cooked meat and decadent sauces. Memories of his old life came flooding back.
He often thought of himself as human, especially in regard to Phillipa. But then he would be brought back to his infuriating reality. One where no one understood him—except for Countess Stalbridge—and everything was unfamiliar.
He had to stay on his best behavior. The best he could manage. Or lose Phillipa forever.
A copper tub awaited him in his suite. Two servants poured the final pitchers of steaming water into it and nodded to him before they left.
Not one person seemed to be shocked that there was a wolven inside the Hall.
The servant who escorted Wesley turned to him. “Take as long as you need. There are towels on the dresser, and a banyan hanging in the closet. When you’re ready, ring the bell, and Master Bow will come fit you for the Ball.”
With a nod, the manservant closed the door behind him, and Wesley was alone in the room.
It was tempting to leave and run back to the woods where he was most comfortable. But that hot bath was even more tempting. The last time he’d attempted to wash was at a nearby lake, but in the den, it was easy to get muddy. He inhaled deeply, relishing the clean-smelling steam, with a slight hint of lavender.
He stepped in and lowered himself. The hot water felt divine against his fur. He closed his eyes, imagining himself as human. But as always, when he opened them again, he was still a beast.
A clean beast, but a beast nonetheless.
He looked around the room. A four-post bed stood proudly against the wall. He groaned audibly, thinking about how good it would be to sleep in a bed again. A fire roared in the fireplace. No cold, no damp, no danger.
It was almost like he was human again.
Phillipa would be in this hall within a matter of days. His heart thundered against his chest as he thought about what it would be like to be face to face with her again. How would she react to this wolven form?
The Queen required her presence, but what if she was really here to find a monster as a mate?
No. He wouldn’t let another beast lay a paw on her.
She’d be dressed in finery, bathed in hot, oiled water just like he had been. He inhaled again, imagining his snout against her neck.
His cock grew hard in the water, and he wrapped his paw around it, giving it one rough pump, then another. It shouldn’t have been so scandalous to imagine it was his own sweet wife servicing him instead. If only he’d been able to stay with her on their wedding night, but the virus had come on fast.
He’d been prepared for the possibility, in theory. His uncle had gone wolven, feral, but he’d come back to tell Wesley and his brothers what had happened. But what started as a thick spray of fur over his knuckles that morning had spread to his chest and thighs by the end of the ceremony.
When his bones began to feel like they would stretch beyond the limits of his skin, he knew he had to run. Before the ceremony, he’d begged his brother to watch after Phillipa if the worst happened. That he would be back for her, as soon as he could, and that he never wanted her to see him at his worst.
His family promised they wouldn’t tell his bride what happened to him. In theory, he hadn’t wanted her to worry, but it was more like he wasn’t ready to let go of his human life. His wife, the one he’d barely known, but had become obsessed with.
So she suffered alone, and he wouldn’t give up on her or finding a cure.
