Moon Spell

He thought his heart might crack into a million pieces.

“Ashwood…he said…” Oscar hesitated, then forged on, “He said you would be disappointed in him and that it was all a huge misunderstanding. Are you sure you aren’t mista—”

“He obviously tricked you as well,” Bellamy interrupted him. He could see how. Ashwood was very charming, after all. Too charming. What had his mother said about the spell of the moon? No, it was the spell of Ashwood. “Let it rest now, Oscar. I cannot take much more.”

“I’m sorry.” Oscar seemed resigned, and that would have to do for now.

Chapter 4

“Where are we, anyway?” Bellamy asked after another coughing spell and then resting his eyes for a few minutes. Oscar had stayed silent the entire time, possibly in the hope of not upsetting him further.

“In Lunar’s Reach,” Oscar replied, glancing out the window.

“This place couldn’t really belong to Ashwood,” he said, recalling how they’d lived in an empty warehouse previous to his escape from Black Hollow. “So what did he do, steal or borrow—”

The words evoked the memory of how he’d always put aside something for himself—for their future, Ashwood would say—instead of allowing Gladstone to have it all.

“Ashwood assured me he’s renting this room. Said he’s been waiting for you.”

“Waiting for what?”

“Apparently for you to come to your senses,” Oscar said with a pointed look. “Or for the occasion to explain himself, perhaps?”

Bellamy wondered why Ashwood hadn’t just taken him, stolen him away during the time he’d been under Madam Langley’s watch. But perhaps that was why. He did not want to cause any alarm or have the authorities searching for him because, no doubt, the madam would’ve had to involve them. Which would’ve caused trouble for her, and the constable had already been trouble enough, always threatening to shut her establishment down if he didn’t get what he wanted. The idea of being behind closed doors with that wretched man still made him shiver. But he was no longer of this world, the threat gone. Only to be replaced by a new one.

“So you presented Ashwood with the right opportunity to take me?”

“Help you,” Oscar insisted, and if Bellamy had the energy, he would’ve rolled his eyes.

“I need to speak to Ashwood right away.” And give the man a good tongue-lashing. To involve one of the lads from Moon Flower was not right. Although it seemed it was Oscar who’d gotten himself involved in the first place. “Where exactly is he?”

“It’s a full moon, so he’s off to—” He waved his hand, but Bellamy saw the strain in his features. “To feed. Or whatever your kind calls it.”

“Feed?” Bellamy glanced out the window as if knowing precisely what he hinted at. Or instinctually. Still, he asked for clarification. “Whatever do you mean?”

“You know exactly,” Oscar blurted, a hint of frustration in his expression. “The fascinating wolf stuff you’re apparently ignoring.”

“And you think feeding is fascinating? Hunting down…whatever it is he’s hunting down is somehow…” He trailed off, shivering.

“How else do you expect wolves to eat?” he scoffed as if fully on board with believing in the fantastical creatures he loved to embellish about at Moon Flower. “I didn’t hear you complaining when Miss Celestine served us pheasant or any other sort of meat. Isn’t it essentially the same thing?”

Bellamy had always loved the cook’s dishes, but now the idea of eating anything at all, let alone imagining Ashwood hunting for it, made him nauseated.

“He’s out there somewhere.” Oscar moved toward the window. “We’re close to the wheat fields and the woods beyond. I suspect that’s why he chose this room, on the outskirts of town. So he could have space to…” Suddenly Oscar shivered as if finally letting his imagination run wild.

“You’re afraid of him,” Bellamy said. “Or what he represents.”

“Not exactly. I’ve…never imagined someone with that sort of raw power. Of course, we’ve heard stories of beasts and healers and dark magic, but I never had the opportunity to see it up close. It’s fascinating, and I would guess intuitive during a full moon.”

“How long did he say he’d be gone?”

“All night.” He glanced at Bellamy with something resembling pity in his gaze. “He didn’t want you to be alone. He thought you could use a friendly face.”

“And he assumed you, the other friend who’d given me away, could help with that? What a preposterous idea.”

Oscar’s eyes grew wide, his cheeks streaked red. Bellamy had never known Oscar to be a man of sentiment, only teasing and humor, so what he’d said to Oscar must’ve cut deep.

He felt guilty. Almost.

He was angry, and perhaps he shouldn’t have been if he was going to die. Perhaps he should make amends. Wasn’t that what people did? He didn’t want Oscar to reel from regret the rest of his life, but could anyone blame him? Bellamy was here against his own free will. And who knew what other danger would come their way?