Lydia Dare - A Certain Wolfish Charm

Surely Simon wouldn't have created a family tree, supposedly consisting of werewolf males, as the title suggested. Oliver was a bit too old for fairy tales. And Simon had never struck her as a fanciful sort.

"Finally found it, did you?" Alice asked from the doorway.

Lily jumped and quickly folded the family tree, tucking it back between the pages of the book.

"Found what?" she attempted.

Alice laughed. "You are terrible at evasion, dear girl."

"Alice." Lily stopped and shook her head.

Alice crossed the room to stroke the top of Lily's hair. She picked up the book and pressed it into Lily's hands. "Happy reading."

***

Alice had nearly jumped for joy when she'd seen Lily with one of Jonathan's old books. If it had taken much longer for one of the men to make a mistake and leave one lying about, she would have been forced to plant one in Lily's path. Or to knock her over the head with it, whichever came first.

All the clues were there. Now Lily just needed time to piece them together.

Alice poured a glass of sherry and watched as Lily went out the door that led to the garden. The girl was smart. Give her enough time, and she would figure it out.

Simon interrupted her thoughts. "Have you seen Lily, Mother?"

"Not for quite some time," Alice lied smoothly. "I think she said she was going to the Hawthornes'. I'm not completely sure."

"She didn't mention that she was leaving," Simon said, his eyebrows drawing together in a frown.

"She was in a bit of a foul mood, son. What did you do?"

"Mother, why must you assume that I

did

something?"

"Because I know you. And I know you're thinking way too much with your head."

"Mother, I don't have time for riddles," he sighed.

"Then let me spell it out for you, Simon." He cringed as she stepped near. He should cringe. If she followed her instincts, she would do him bodily harm. Luckily, she had some restraint. "She loves you."

"I don't doubt it."

"And you love her," Alice continued.

"Of course I do."

"Prove it, Simon."

Forty-Three

Lily walked slowly down the garden path, the book tucked securely under her arm. It was a bit intimidating, knowing she might hold the key to the door Simon kept closed to her.

She brushed a lock of hair from her face as she opened the book and began to read the inscription again. She traced her finger over the words, wondering who'd scrawled the note.

A Lycan cannot be embraced by another until he embraces

the wildness within himself.

What did it mean? The definition of a Lycan slowed her reading.

Lycans are defined by their ability to walk upright as

humans. The shift from human to

were

is decided by the

phase of the moon.

The moon?

What did this have to do with Simon? Simon was obviously human. As was Will. And all the other Westfield men.

In adolescence, were children grow at a rapid pace, often

surpassing the size, strength, and appetite of their contemporaries.

Oliver? Certainly it was a coincidence that Oliver had undergone so many changes. Wasn't it?

Humans affected by the mark of the beast cannot avoid the

call of the moon. They are unable to refuse the change.

What change? Becoming wolf? That was impossible.

Some Lycans experience great anger and melancholy

because they lose the ability to choose for themselves. They

are prone to fits of temper, during which their superior

strength and speed can damage objects in their path.

The desk?

When a Lycan takes his mate, he's forced to take a

human, which goes against the very basis of human nature.

Humans mating with animals? It shakes humanity to the

very core.

She could understand why. But the book still seemed to be more of a fairy tale than anything that could possibly be real. She assumed that anyone reading it could find some trait of a werewolf in almost any person, if they looked deeply enough.

Lily read until it was too dark to make out the words, devouring the entire book as the sun moved across the sky. And it wasn't until she reached the very end that she saw it. She tipped the book toward the moon so she could read the words.

There is but one thing that identifies a werewolf. It's

presented on the body of the affected person. Every Lycan

carries the mark of the beast, a simple moon-shaped mark,

on his person.

Lily jumped to her feet. The book thudded to the ground. Simon! Simon had a mark like that. Oliver had a mark like that. Simon said it was a family trait, that Will, Benjamin, and Daniel all had one, too.

Simon was a werewolf? It was too difficult to believe. Lily ran down the path toward the house and through the back door. She had to find more books. She had to read more. Surely there would be more Lycanthropic lore if the men of the household were truly werewolves.

Lily ran down the corridor toward the library. And that was where her wolf stalked her.

***

"Where have you been?" a voice asked from the corner of the darkened library.

Lily spun on her heels, searching the darkness. "Simon?" she asked.

"I asked where you have been, Lily." He leaned forward in his chair so his face was illuminated by the light of the nearly full moon that shone through the window.

"I-I was in the garden. Reading." Lily smoothed her hands on her skirts, trying to remove the wetness from her palms.

"I was looking for you," Simon said as he raised a glass of amber liquid to his lips.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know. Did you need something?"

Simon stood and stalked across the room, moving slowly toward her. "Just you," he said quietly.

She suddenly felt like prey.

"It's nice to be needed." She smiled, raising a hand to touch his face once he was close enough. She gasped as Simon growled and touched his teeth to the inside of her wrist. He abraded her skin and then licked lightly across the area. She felt that lick all the way to her toes.

"Cold?" he asked when she shivered, his eyes, black as night, meeting hers.

"Not a bit," she breathed.

Simon stepped toward her, forcing her to walk backward. She stepped back until she hit the wall. His hands came up to press against the wall on both sides of her head. She couldn't help but think she was well and truly trapped.

His lips pressed against hers, nearly painful with the intensity of his caress. She whimpered against him, but he paid her no heed.

"Is this new?" he asked as he tugged at her bodice when he finally lifted his head.

"Yes," she whispered. "You bought it."

"I'll buy you another." Then the fabric tore as he ripped it from top to bottom and shoved it from her shoulders.

Lily could do no more than gasp. She was terrified. But she was more terrified of her own reaction to Simon than she was of his actions toward her. She grew wet, her center pulsing as he cupped her breasts in his hands and lifted them to his face, pushing the centers together so he could draw both peaks into his mouth at once.

Lily reached for his shoulders when her legs weakened. She glanced toward the door.

"The door's open, Simon," she had the sense to whisper.

"I don't care," he said as he slid his leg between her thighs and rocked her body against it.

She immediately cried out. And then repeated the motion on her own.

His eyes narrowed. "Do it again," he said. She rocked against him once more, wetness flooding his pants leg as she did so.

"I want you," he said quietly. "Here. Now."

"Yes," was all she could say.