Moon Spell

The smell of broth hit his stomach as they placed the tray on the sideboard. He was hungry, and he realized he hadn’t eaten anything of substance since Madam Langley had insisted upon it at Moon Flower, what must’ve been days ago. But the idea of even lifting his head exhausted him.

“You still look awful.” The sound of Oscar’s teasing tenor threw him, but he was instantly relieved to hear someone warmly familiar while also being so completely cross with the lad that his eyesight blurred.

“What…what are you doing here?” Bellamy asked, feeling confused and groggy. Again, he had the feeling he might be hallucinating, which was quite probable, given his feverish state.

Oscar’s cheeks were flushed and the tips of his ears pink. Gone was his usual joviality, which made the perception of this being a figment of his imagination more plausible. “Ashwood requested I watch over you while he…attends to some important wolf business, I imagine.”

Bellamy clenched his teeth. Was Oscar seriously that obtuse? Ashwood’s wolf business, whatever that entailed, would be something dangerous.

“To be honest, I’m having trouble grasping that any of this is real,” Oscar said with awe in his tone. “I do like to…elaborate, but to have one of my ridiculous notions come true…”

Bellamy sighed. “You apparently had a good inkling about this one.”

“Are you actually giving me credit for something?” He held his chest as if he were having pains.

“You know very well that admitting the truth would’ve caused all sorts of chaos—questions and speculations, perhaps even fear and mistrust in me as a person. There’s a reason I wanted to keep that part of myself secret. And now you must as well.” He gave Oscar a stern look that probably didn’t register because the effort only exhausted him. “In fact, I’m not sure why Ashwood trusted you with this knowledge at all. You’re not one to hold secrets.”

“I hold plenty of secrets, believe me,” he scoffed, and looking into his dark, determined eyes, Bellamy believed him. Perhaps his inquisitiveness and incessant verbosity were only an attempt to cover up his own fears and worries. A bit of guilt began seeping inside Bellamy, making him feel sentimental toward Oscar. “What does it matter, anyway?” Oscar continued. “No one would believe me. The idea of wolves—of creatures walking among us? Ridiculous.”

“Apparently not so ridiculous. Wolves keep themselves hidden for obvious reasons and are good fodder for fairy tales. They’re not such a far cry from a witch or healer. All of it is fantastical if you consider it hard enough.”

“You’re right,” Oscar replied meekly. “I’m only getting used to the notion.”

Why was Bellamy suddenly defending wolves and his kind? Were they his kind? No, he did not identify with those violent creatures in any way. He was more human than anything else. In fact, when he first began having the symptoms—yearning, hunger, itchy muscles—and Madam Langley helped him with the realization that he was a wolf, he was not only astonished but completely devastated. How dare he become the very thing he despised? He supposed it was just as well because everything else in his life had also fallen apart at the seams like poorly sewn needlepoint.

“Besides, I shouldn’t even be talking to you.” Bellamy scowled, but it wasn’t without effort. “You gave me away.”

Oscar grew shrill. “To save your life!”

“Does Madam Langley approve of your decision to rat me out to Ashwood?” Bellamy couldn’t imagine she would unless she felt at her wits’ end about saving him. But she’d also promised to keep his secret and help him eradicate that part of himself, never once questioning his decision.

Oscar dipped his head, his cheeks pink. “She was disappointed in me. But I couldn’t have you die on us. I knew if anyone could save you, it would be Ashwood. Or at least be with you in your final hours so you weren’t alone…”

Bellamy’s heart panged at the declaration. As it turned out, despite the nonsense Oscar spouted—and all the times he denied wanting anything other than dalliances with well-endowed men—he really was a romantic. The bloody bugger. It was hard to remain angry with him, even with him being such a frustrating person.

“But I had all of you at Moon Flower to look after me and keep me company if…when…the worst came to pass.”

“Of course, you had us,” Oscar replied with sadness in his gaze. “But Ashwood means something to you. I could tell—we all could—even when you tried to deny it. You would stare longingly out the window, and especially at the moon, which was how I got the silly notion that you were a wolf. And now I know I was right all along.”

“No, not anymore. Oscar, you don’t understand.”

“Perhaps I would if you trusted me enough. I’m not as bad as you think. Sometimes I run my mouth just to get away from my own thoughts. My own awful past.” Bellamy now remembered Oscar’s confession that his father had put him out of the house after finding him in a compromising position with another boy. Even Galen said he saw the anger and sadness in Oscar’s aura.