Page 87 of Wolf's Bane
“Usually. I can’t really explain how, but like calls to like.”
“And me? Can you sense it in me?”
Alek studied the man, taking in the mess of blonde hair, limp from sweat, and the high ruddy color to his cheeks. He had a deceptively lean build that was solid muscle. In a smartly tailored coat and a starched cravat, he could have easily masqueraded as a clerk or a banker or a barrister. Alek saw lots of things in Miles—his intellect, the power in his hands, and the worry in his eyes—but he did not sense the beast.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Miles slumped, leaning against the door frame. “A month until the equinox. This uncertainty is torture. I suppose you had to wait and accepted it with grim stoicism.”
Alek held his tongue. His first shift happened immediately, but Miles did not need to know that. Most people had to wait a full cycle. Instead, he asked, “And the need to make a lifetime’s supply of armor?”
“For Luis, obviously. If the worst happens, I won’t be able to make more.” Miles dug a cloth out of a pocket and ran it over his brow. “Sorry. I know you’re fine, and I won’t presume to know how, but I can’t expect the same in my situation. I have to prepare for the worst.”
Miles looked to Alek, and he knew what boon the man would ask of him.
“Please don’t,” Alek mumbled.
“If the worst happens, will you—”
Alek gave a quick nod. He would not enjoy it, but he would if need be.
“Clean and quick? Luis is attempting to drown me in wolfsbane tea and he has this idea of a cage, but I won’t. I can’t do that again.” He rubbed at his wrists. Alek remembered when a youthful Miles arrived at the village to be apprenticed to the blacksmith, a man known for his foul temper. He did not know of the man’s history or what he suffered at his master’s hands, and it seemed the wrong moment to ask.
“Luis has the right idea. The condition can be mitigated. Tonics are helpful. You see proof of that.”
Miles worried at his bottom lip. “Yes, you’re probably right, but if not? I care little for premonitions, but I have this recurring nightmare.”
“Just dreams? Any other symptoms?”
Miles shook his head, and Alek breathed a sigh of relief. “Clean and quick,” he promised. “Now, this need to armor Luis—” His tone teased, desperate to change the direction of the conversation.
“It’s not like that.”
“It’s like that for him.”
“I know.” Miles sighed. “I enjoy his company and consider him a friend, but attraction has always come slowly for me. I can’t give him what he wants now, and he’s so young,” he added, almost as an afterthought.
“You’re a year younger than me. That makes it no more than ten years between you and Luis.”
“Nine, but you know what I mean.” Miles waved a hand.
Alek wasn’t sure he did. Luis was very much grown. Alek had missed the day-to-day slow march from child to adult, though. Still, he had an air of youthful optimism about him, which Alek rather liked. “I imagine such a change would be difficult to accept.”
The man’s face brightened. “Yes. He is my friend, and I do care for him. That’s why if the worst happens, I couldn’t ask him to—”
“Yes, I see,” Alek said. Miles cared too much to ask Luis to end his life if the curse befell him. The rings in his coat pocket felt heavier for the price Miles asked.
Still, if his only symptoms were bad dreams, then he would likely avoid the curse. Alek felt confident he’d never have to honor his promise.
Chapter 22
Solenne
Boxon Hill
Marechal House - Solenne’s Bedroom
It rainedthe morning of the wedding.
