Constance soaked in a bath, listening to the night sounds out her window while she washed training off of herself. After Owen's sisters had left it had just been she and Carlson. Hugh didn't trust himself to train the day of a full moon night. She understood, but it meant that instead of spending her time with him, she'd spent all of her time punching and blocking and ducking. She was extra sore.
They'd decided she'd stay in her room tonight. See if she could influence Hugh's moon madness three floors above. No one knew how close she needed to be for her influence to work. According to Carlson, it was a matter of experimentation. And he'd given her a leather journal, a quill pen and strict instruction to document her experience.
Hannah and Mother and Gran would start their journey to Carnsley in a couple of days, and Constance could hardly wait to tell them that she and Hugh were engaged. She hoped mother would adjust, and she knew Gran and Hannah would be thrilled. She could barely contain her excitement at the idea of Hannah planning a small wedding, or at the idea of finally getting to be with Hugh. It was strange. The ache of loneliness that she'd ignored for so long had turned into something warm and full; pack and family.
She thought about his scar, and how it had felt to run her finger over it. Tried not to think about his bare chest as he stood defending her. Her lips pulsed with a life of their own and she climbed out of the bath before her imagination could take her further. It seemed impractical to dress in her night things, so she put on the sturdiest gown she could find, an old one of Hannah's left from a rare visit. Constance rather liked it, the faded rose buds, the lower waist and fuller skirt reminiscent of a slightly older time.
She paced the room, feeling like a caged beast herself. Everyone else had already locked themselves away in their rooms. They retired early on full moon nights. She wished there was someone to talk to.
Suddenly, she found herself down the hall in the back stairway. She didn't remember opening the door or leaving her room. A shiver of unease traced down her spine, but her muscles told her to go. Ignoring them made her want to scream, so she hurried down the stairs, past the kitchen, into the cellar. She paused at the bottom. This wasn't what they had talked about, and she hadn't even brought the journal. She didn't want to annoy Carlson. She should go back to her room and force her feet to keep still.
"Constance?"
She stepped into the room, dimly lit by a lantern hanging on a hook.
"What are you doing down here?"
"I don't know," she said, feeling silly. "My feet just brought me. I can go."
"It's alright," he said. "I won't change for an hour and I'm restless."
"Me too." She made her way closer to the cell he was in.
His eyes traveled the length of her. "What are you wearing?" He asked with a small growl, his eyes on her décolletage. Her cheeks warmed pleasantly. "How soon are we to be married?" He asked, reaching through the bars to pull on one of her curls.
"We're just waiting for your sister and the rest of my family."
"Three days," he said, exasperated.
She smiled. "Three whole days," she said, wrapping her hands around the bars. "Perhaps I'll keep you locked up until then."
"You may have to." He wrapped his hands around hers. "It seems unfair that I've been before you unclothed, on more than one occasion, I might add, and all I have are tantalizing glimpses of your figure in old gowns."
"Hazards of being a werewolf, I suppose." She said, remembering his bare chest. She shivered.
"I suppose," he agreed, resting his forehead on the bars. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
"Surely you must know," she said, echoing words he'd said to her a month ago.
"I just never dreamed someone could love me. I'm afraid I'll wake and it will have been a dream."
"Not a dream," she smiled.
"Carlson told me I could have a life. Told me I should. He's being surprisingly gracious now that I find myself happy. He has every right to be infuriating, you know?"
She laughed.
Hugh sighed. "How many years did I waste?"
"I suppose," she said carefully, "If you hadn't been quite so morose all that time, you might not have met me."
"Timing is everythi—" He staggered back from the bars. "I wasn't paying attention and let my guard down," he grunted. "The shift is coming."
She stepped back from the cell and then turned her back so that he could undress and shift in relative privacy. She listened to his joints pop and to the sound of his groans as his muscles reshaped, his limbs shifting, fur sprouting off his body.
A snarl crept across the floor and up her spine.
She turned back, and it was the wolf, but he was different here than he had been while training or when he'd stood between her and Baines. There was no humanity in the eyes looking at her hungrily, his growl vibrating through the souls of her feet.
Her instincts told her to run. She was nothing more than prey here. He paced at the silver laced iron bars, saliva foaming around his muzzle. She walked backwards until her back was against the opposite wall and then she forced herself to take a deep breath. She had been in a lot more danger the first time she'd faced him on a full moon.
She called to mind the feeling of home she'd had the other night when he'd proposed. She remembered her heart expanding in the ruins of the castle. The way his lips had explored hers.
The wolf stopped pacing and blinked at her.
Constance slid to the ground. She couldn't very well stand up all night.
The wolf circled and then sat, his golden eyes on her.
I'm going to marry you, she thought, wondering what that would do. His ears twitched forward, and he tilted his head to the side.
A smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. She wondered how long she could keep this up. She'd fallen asleep at Bunsall, but he still hadn't hurt her. The influence lasted a while at least, and she was much stronger now.
She shifted through emotions, imagined how it had felt to sleep with his arms around her. The wolf lay down, putting his massive head on his paws, his keen eyes still on her.
She wondered just how late it was.
The wolf's ears pricked up, and he stood, his hackles raised. Constance heard footfalls a moment later.
"Miss Allen?"
"Owen?" she said, standing.
He took the last step cautiously. Hugh growled. Constance tried to maintain a feeling of serenity. He's our friend, she thought.
"I'm sorry, Miss, but there was a lady just here. She couldn't find anyone at the house, what with them all being locked away, and came and found me in the stables. She told me I had to get this letter to you, said it was urgent. And then she just rode off."
He handed her an envelope. She opened it, a feeling of dread heavy in her gut. The wolf growled.
If you are not in London on the evening of the 27th, I will kill your grandmother, then the young Lady Connor, and finally your mother. If you bring the beast, I will kill his sister the moment I see him. They are being held in the empty church west of St. James Palace.
"Miss Allen?"
Constance's hands were shaking. "He has Hannah."
Owen's face paled. The wolf growled.
"Can you take me to London? We have to go. We have to be there in less than three days."
"Of course," Owen said, looking like he might be sick. "Should we leave word for Hugh?"
"He can't come. If he sees Hugh he'll kill Hannah and then he'll force me to hurt Hugh or use him somehow—I don't know—" Her mind was a roar of unhelpful noise.
"I understand," Owen said. "We'll make faster time if we ride."
Owen turned and rushed up the steps. She started to follow, but Hugh's low whine stopped her.
She turned back to the wolf.
"Your people are my people," she whispered fiercely. "I won't let them do anything to hurt Hannah. I promise, I don't know what that means for me. What I might have to do and I'm so sorry."
He paced the cell.
"You can't come right away. You have to protect your sister. And please take care of Simon. Don't come until Hannah, Gran and Mom are safe here. Once they're free, I won't stop fighting. I know you'll come. I can endure anything because I know you'll come."
She ran up the stairs before she could lose her nerve, his frantic barking following her all the way out to the barns.
She and Owen tore into the night, the awful sound of Hugh's howls spurring the horses on.