Moon Spell

Bellamy began pacing the room as if he might crawl out of his skin. “What would you do…if you were me?”

“I don’t want to steer you wrong.” He swallowed roughly. “I’ve already caused enough damage.”

“For fuck’s sake, Ashwood!” he growled, making Ashwood’s eyebrows lift to his hairline. “Where is the boy I knew? The one who would beckon me to an empty alleyway or take chances with men’s pocket watches?”

Ashwood was definitely different. Gone were the confidence and the smirk, replaced by caution and reticence. It felt bittersweet and rather unsettling to see him as a shell of his former self, when he’d been such a vibrant presence in his life.

“I don’t want to ruin my standing with you even more. Don’t you understand?” he pleaded. “It wounds me that you want nothing to do with me. I cannot bear to have you loathe me for eternity.”

Bellamy’s shoulders drooped, the air siphoning from his lungs. “I don’t loathe you. But I was hurt by you. Deeply. I cannot trust my feelings around you again.”

Despite everything between them, he still felt the strong tendrils of their connection, and it was acutely painful. He knew he would never feel for another what he did for Ashwood.

“You will always keep a barrier between us, no matter what,” Ashwood said, resigned.

“Likely, yes,” Bellamy replied, not wanting to mince words.

Now Ashwood glanced out the window, a storm of emotions in his eyes, and Bellamy trembled, the stitch in his chest throbbing.

After a time, Ashwood said, “If we traverse into that forest, we cannot stay long. But we’d at least be out in nature since that’s what your body is craving. Perhaps a simple walk in the wildflowers will be enough. But first you should—”

“I shall wash and eat later. I need this, Ashwood. Now.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, Bellamy practically thrumming with untapped energy. He would go on his own if Ashwood did not hurry. But at last, the man agreed. “All right.”

Once dressed adequately enough to be in society, with their shirts tucked into their breeches and their waistcoats properly buttoned, they left the premises and headed toward the fields, as if out and about for a stroll through nature, should they encounter anyone. Thankfully, and maybe because it was just after dawn, no one crossed their path. Bellamy felt a rightness in his chest as he walked among the wildflowers growing in the expansive fields. He breathed their aroma deeply into his lungs, some of the raw energy inside him finally subsiding.

But it was not enough, and even when they made it to the edge of the forest, he continued onward until they were surrounded by enormous trees, most of the sunlight blotted out by the canopy they provided.

“How do you feel?” Ashwood asked as they skirted around a prickly bush.

“Amazing.” He felt more alive than he had in months, or perhaps ever, which didn’t make a lot of sense, so it must’ve had something to do with his heightened senses and the wolf blood coursing through his veins.

He could hear the birds and insects so vividly now, it was almost painful to his sensitive ears. He could also smell the earth beneath his feet and had the urge to drop to his knees and dig his fingers in the cool soil.

“A walk in nature definitely helps rid you of some of that energy.” Ashwood chuckled. “You’ve been bedridden for far too long.”

Bellamy didn’t reply because he’d stopped walking as a strange sensation overcame him. His ears grew hot, his teeth ached, and his nails felt sharp. In fact, he nearly gouged his skin as a shudder racked him, and he crossed his arms, feeling as if he might unravel at a moment’s notice.

Ashwood turned to locate him, likely ascertaining that Bellamy was no longer behind him on the bumpy path, and his mouth opened on a silent gasp.

Bellamy had partially shifted, just like Ashwood had that day when he saw him with Kipling and his pack. He noted the tufts of auburn hair on his forearms as his tongue ran over sharp fangs. He lifted his hand, which now donned claws, and smoothed it over his pointy ears. He felt as if in a dream, caught between two worlds, and it was almost painful, the profound longing to fully shift into his lupine form. To fully realize his true nature.

He panted openly, equally frightened and fascinated.

And seemingly stuck.

“It’s all right,” Ashwood said in a soothing tone, which immediately calmed him. “Don’t fight it. Free your thoughts and allow nature to take its course.”

So he waited, his pulse thrumming through his veins. But instead of his body transforming into a wondrous creature, he only felt like himself again. His human self. Disappointment tightened his gut, his nerves frayed as he stood there, unsure of what might happen next.