Instinct (3 page)

It took immense
effort to show restraint whilst so near. A tilt of my head revealed
the hint of her small breasts, peeking from the bodice of her
dress, and each intake of her scent sent shivers down my spine.

“The wind,” she
whispered, her breath skating over my cheek.

“Not good
enough. Try harder.”

The breeze she
spoke of blew through on the river’s current and toyed with her
hair. At that moment, I wished I were the wind, free to dance
across her flesh, seep through her clothing, and explore the
forbidden depths of her body beneath.

“Birds,” she
said, her murmur drawing me back.

“What else?” I
asked.

She gave a sigh
before falling quiet.

Pulling back to
study her, I smiled at her frown of concentration, and had urges I
wished I didn’t have to suppress, as her lips parted to allow the
passage of her breaths. When I moved back to her ear, her hair blew
around to tickle my cheek, and her artery drummed against my jaw,
matching the throb of my own below. Considering tasting her
pulsation, I tilted my head toward the flesh there.

“I hear you, Mr
Holloway,” she whispered, causing me to pause. “I hear your breaths
and the beat of your heart.”

Leaning back, I
removed my hand from her eyes, but she did not open them.

“There is
gentle thunder somewhere deep within your chest,” she continued,
and when she lifted her lids, her moist eyes glistened like two
pools on a winter’s eve.

The urge to
tear at her clothing, and relieve myself of the pressure her
presence encouraged, rushed at me with the force of a malignant
wolf. Yet, taking a deep breath that shuddered my shoulders, I did
not. Rather, fingers cramping against fulfilling my needs, I took
her hand and introduced her to more that the forest had to
offer.

Oddly, my first
day with a female I did not devour turned out to be one of my most
favoured.

***

On my entrance
into the kitchen, the entire pack paused in their chatter. James
sat in his usual position at the head of the table, Charles beside
my empty seat to his left. Philip ceased in talking to Edward, who
glanced up with shrewd grey eyes beneath equally grey hair, from
the other side of James. At the foot of the table, the end nearest
the back door, Giles, his brown hair in its usual tumbling
disarray, stared at my arrival. Amidst them, the table held the
remains of the meal I had missed.

James stood,
his chair scraping the tile floor. “You are late.”

“I became
distracted.”

The seated men
chuckled at my words. James did not.

I circled the
table toward the hall. James’s nostrils flared as I reached him,
his sense of smell the most powerful, and I increased my step to
pass behind.

“You have not
eaten,” he said.

“I will eat
once I have bathed.” I ducked into the hall and strode to the
staircase.

Footsteps
followed me along the tiled passageway before a hand grasped my
shoulder. “Sean?”

When I looked
back at James, his brows lowered in contrast to my raised ones.

“Tell me you
have not been with the same female.”

“You must be
confused,” I said, suppressing the swallow stuck in my throat.
“Last week, I left with no female, if you recall. So, how could I
have been with the same female this week?”

Shrugging him
free, I continued my path, but his pursuing scrutiny weighted my
climb of the stairs.

The second lie
had been told to retain my secret.

Another long
week passed until my next excursion day, and I ignored what my body
told me as I’d clothed myself that morning in my usual attire of
white cotton above black trousers and boots.

With fortune on
my side, I passed through the house undisturbed, and soft rain
dampened my hair and face on my emergence outside. The falling of
it lent a soft music to the forest leaves, which stirred in
response upon the surrounding branches I stepped beneath.

“Sean?”

Sheltered by
the greenery, I turned to see James crossing the grass.

“Where are you
going?” he asked upon reaching me.

“The
marketplace.” Lies became easier to tell with practice.

He frowned. “Do
you know of the day?”

I raised my
eyebrow as I smiled. “Tuesday.”

“I suspect you
know that is not what I refer to.”

My chest heaved
with my sigh. “I will be fine.”

“You have never
been out on the morn of the full moon before. Your youth is not
your strength in the matter. Why not alter your day and go tomorrow
instead, as you usually do?”

I had promised
Jem I would meet her, but could not give James my true reasoning.
“I will be back by lunch.”

His sigh
matched mine, as his stare held me in place. When my eyes struggled
to remain in line with his, he cupped my neck, holding me steady.
“If something is bothering you, Sean, I expect you to talk to
me.”

I tried not to
peer away, to disguise my unease. “What could bother me when the
hunt looms so near?”

He did not
release me, but continued his unspoken study. His eyes held
intensity as they searched mine—for my secrets, I presumed. When he
eventually stepped back, he ruffled my hair. “Be home by noon.”

I watched him
walk away before turning to leave.

***

The simpler her
attire, the more beautiful she became—maybe because it revealed the
shape of her body, riveting my eyes to her. Her flouncy cuffs
fluttered around her narrow wrists, a pale green bodice accentuated
her waist, and the delicate floral fabric of her skirt concealed
the undignified pose she took to face me upon the fallen trunk.

“Mother grew
suspicious of the late hour at which I arrived home,” she said.

“Were you
reprimanded?”

She shook her
head before smiling. “Jessica can be very convincing.”

“And your
father? Was he also angered?”

The smile
dissolved into a frown, and she tipped her face down toward where
her fingers traced the rough bark. “My father died when I was
small.”

Reaching
across, I lifted her chin until our eyes met. “Mine, also, passed
away some time ago.”

“How did he
die?” she asked. “My father was a carpenter who failed to shield
himself whilst working. Mother said Doctor Wilson could not arrive
in time to stop the bleeding. What happened to your father?”

Compelled to
tell her everything about myself, I floundered for words to protect
her from the truth. After a while, I said, “He died in a
disagreement,” and realised I had spoken with honesty.

“I am very
sorry to hear that, Mr Holloway.”

“Sean,” I
murmured as we stared at each other. “My name is Sean.”

“And my name is
Miss Stonehouse, yet you constantly decline to use it.”

My quiet laugh
escaped on a breath. “I have a preference for Jem. It has a
uniqueness, which befits a female who is not like any other I have
met.”

“You are quite
easily misled.” She smiled. “There is nothing exceptional about
me.”

“Your mother
must have thought so. Why else would she have marked you with an
unusual name?”

“Mother named
me after my star sign.”

My
unfamiliarity with the term caused a frown to crease my
forehead.

“The astrology
signs for our birthdates,” she said. “You do not know of them?”

I shook my head
and smiled. “Teach me.” I would use any excuse to hear her
voice.

“Studying such
subjects is frowned upon, so I do not know much, other than there
are twelve symbols, called signs, in the zodiac calendar, which
each represent certain calendar dates. Dependent upon your day of
birth, you fall under one of these signs. My sign is Gemini, from
which my name is derived. They say our stars affect who we are and
how we behave.”

“So, what would
mine be?” I asked, intrigued.

“For that, I
would need to know your birthday,” she said. “Are you willing to
divulge?”

“The sixth day
in June.”

Her gaze held
me for seconds before she smiled. “That is ... interesting. You,
too, are Gemini.”

I waited for
her to elaborate, watching as she stared off to the side for a
moment and her brow furrowed.

She turned back
to me, her eyes carrying a concern they had not seconds before. “A
meeting of the hearts of two Gemini has been known to end with
explosive results, Mr Holloway.”

Reaching out to
trap a stray tress that stroked her cheek, I smiled. “Then, I shall
look forward to that.”

***

“’Tis still
early,” Jem said, as I walked her home.

“At least you
shan’t get into bother on my account again.”

Her lifted
skirts allowed me a charming glimpse of her ankles, as she stepped
across discarded branches and bracken. “Another hour would not
cause bother, I am certain.”

I smiled at her
wistful tone and took her elbow to balance her step across a
muddied puddle. “I have an appointment I am committed to.”

Halting, one
foot each side of the shallow water, she peered up at me through
narrowed eyes. “With Lord Wells’ daughter, perhaps?”

At the sight of
her, slender legs peeking from ruffled petticoat and annoyance
creasing her expression, I almost considered disobeying James as
the
want
to take the female in my arms and ravage her
battled my inner instinct. Drawing in a deep breath, I forced
myself calm. “With my brother.”

“Ah.” She
smiled, her features relaxing again. “The other Mr Holloway. I am
told he is the gentleman you refuse to be.”

Laughing, I
slid an arm around her waist, took her hand, and lifted her across
the wet ground. She did not protest, but simply straightened her
clothing once set back on her feet.

The light rain
had intensified during the morning, and heavier drops landed to
soak the ground. I had never been as far as Jem’s home before,
though it could be seen upon leaving the forest. A scattering of
thick and proud oaks dotted the land between and provided obscurity
to our emergence.

Jem halted and
placed her hand against my chest. My heart thudded beneath it when
I realised she had initiated contact for the first time. “You can
come no farther,” she said. “Mother mustn’t see you.”

“She will not
see me with so much cover.” I took her hand to bring her closer,
leaning in until my nose met with her slender neck. An inhalation
drew her essence deep into my lungs, my upward sweep ending at her
hair.

Her quiet
intake of breath accompanied the tilt of her head. “Why must you
always sniff at me so?” she whispered, her breaths seeping through
the fine fabric of my shirt and warming my shoulder.

I smiled into
her hair. “Why must you always smell so delectable?”

Her step away
from me did nothing to hide her tremor. “It is time I left.”

I cupped her
face, placed my lips to hers. “Until Tuesday next, then.”

She glanced
downward, her cheeks accepting the deep blush that visited them.
“Until Tuesday next,” she repeated, turning away. With hems lifted
from the sodden ground, she met with the far sward and kept
walking.

Not yet ready
to part with the sight of her, I strode to the first oak she had
passed and pressed my cheek to the rough bark, peering around to
watch. Her scent lingered, as though collected by the rain as it
struck her body, to be gathered upon the ground as a direct path to
her.

She crossed
beyond the second oak, and I dashed to that one, my eyes held
captive by her movements. The female entranced me, without a doubt,
so I did not fully register the tingling sensation which visited my
limbs, or pause to investigate, before darting toward the third oak
in a bid to see her for longer.

In only four
more long strides, pain shot through me, forcing me to my
knees.

A downward
glance showed ripples rolling beneath my flesh, and my chest
muscles convulsing against the heavy pounding of my heart.

I shook my head
in denial, my whispered, “
No
,” no more than a hoarse
grumble.

Peering around,
I searched for a sign: who, why? How?

No one
loitered, not even Jem, who had disappeared behind the security of
her door.

Another
circuitous inspection of my surroundings brought still no answers.
My change had come early, and I did not know why.

I tried to push
to my feet, but my muscles cramped, demanding I do otherwise. As my
body brought me lower, my eyes fell on the culprit.

Through my
frown, I narrowed my stare to study the growth harder—to be
certain.

The plants
bordering Jem’s home pointed at me with their spiked leaves, waving
at me with the lemon flowers that sat atop them.

“Wolfsbane,” I
whispered, panic surging my adrenaline higher.

With a roar of
self-encouragement, I forced my legs into action.

Spasms invaded
me with each earth-pummelling step I took. My heart pounded against
the effort to just keep moving. Sweat beaded the surface of my
skin, my breaths blasting out in short spurts.

The forest
appeared a ridiculous distance away, despite my knowing
otherwise.

An invasion of
burning through my left calf hauled me downward, whilst a kick of
my right foot urged me back up. My right shoulder dipped in
protest, as bone began its restructure.

With a cry of
pain barking from me, I stumbled. My hands reached out to save me
from the fall, but they no longer appeared human.

When I shouted
out my objection to the speed of the progression, it arrived as a
snarl, and a few yards from my sanctuary, I could remain upright no
longer.

With muscles
and tendons stretching before tightening, my skull cracking in
agonising deformity, and the jaw-clenching affliction of a
realigning spine, my hair thickened and lengthened to coat every
inch of my body.