A rabbit skittered by in the bushes. Simon didn't take his eyes from Westfield Hall. She was in there. She was asleep in his bed. She was snug and safe under the counterpane. She was safe from him.
That thought brought unending pain. She shouldn't need to be safe from him. If he wasn't such a beast, he could be with her. He could be with her and love her always. Love her in every way.
Simon's ears perked up when he heard a door slam at Westfield Hall. He stood up on all four feet. His limbs quivered with the desire to run to her. Instead, he turned away, ready to head back into the dense forest. Ready to run from her.
Then his keen hearing picked up the sound of running feet as they crunched against the pea-gravel path in the garden. Someone was outside. He sniffed the air. Damn! The wind blew in the wrong direction to pick up a scent.
Simon closed his eyes and willed the wind to change direction. Despite his close proximity to nature, he had no ability to force the wind to do his bidding. Had he been human, he would have laughed.
But he wasn't. And never would be. Not truly. Sure, he could pretend to be human most of the time. But he was all beast.
Simon heard footfalls pounding against the soft forest floor. Faster and faster they ran. An animal? He sniffed again. Still no scent. He growled at the injustice of it all.
The wind shifted.
He smelled it.
He smelled her.
Lily.
No.
The footsteps grew louder and louder as she ran. He would evade her. He would go farther into the forest. He would run from her. He turned to do just that.
But then she winced. Simon stood and looked down. He could see her there, stopped at the bottom of the hill. She halted and pulled a thorn from her foot. Maybe that would slow her down.
Not his Lily. She ran even faster than before. She was nearly upon him when he turned to run away.#p#分页标题#e#
He heard her voice.
***
A soft rain began to fall. Lily paid it no heed and simply brushed the wet locks of hair from in front of her eyes. She had to find her wolf.
Lily knew it was him the moment she saw him. His black hair shone under the light of the moon. The streak of white that usually graced his temple now shot across one ear and down his back.
"Simon!" she called. He was facing away from her. He was moving in the wrong direction. But she would run forever to catch him. She barely felt the pain in her feet, which were bruised and battered after her barefoot run through the forest.
He didn't turn when she called to him. He ran in the other direction. He moved into the dark until she was unable to tell wolf from shadow.
No!
"Simon," she cried, bending over, the pain of his absence nearly more than she could bear. Lily fell to her hands and knees as tears clouded her vision.
"Don't leave me!" she screamed, the strength of which burned her throat.
A man stepped out of the shadows.
Simon stood completely naked and completely unashamed under the light of the full moon.
"Why are you here, Lily?" he snarled.
She drew in a deep breath, the relief of seeing him nearly palpable.
"Because I need you," she said.
He turned to walk back into the forest. "Go home," he ordered.
"Because I want you!" she cried, louder than before.
He turned and looked at her.
"Because I love you!" she finished.
Lily sat back on her heels and freed her nightrail from around her legs, where she knelt on the ground. Quickly, she tugged it over her head and tossed it to the ground beside her. She sat naked in front of him. She held up her hands, palms facing the sky. "Take me," she cried.
Forty-Six
Simon fought the beast. He fought it with every bit of his body, mind, and soul.
He came to her and kneeled in front of her, his hands sliding into the hair at her temples.
"Why don't you want me?" she sobbed. But gone was the time that he could have gently wiped the tear from her cheek. Instead, he brutally pulled at her hair, tipping her head so that she was forced to look him in the eye.
"You think I don't want you?" he snarled. How could she possibly think that? He wanted her in the worst way. He wanted to pin her beneath him. He wanted to thrust into her until he could spill himself inside her. He wanted to take her. He wanted it more than he wanted his next breath.
Despite the brutal pressure he applied to her scalp with his hands tangled in her hair, she turned her head and pressed her face into his palm.
He couldn't allow her to show gentleness to him. The beast didn't deserve it. The beast wanted nothing more than to hurt her. Why would she turn to him and seek comfort?