Druid's Moon by Deniz Bevan

Author:Deniz Bevan [Bevan, Deniz]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Paranormal romance wolf shifter; Paranormal romance novels; Folktales around the world; Folk tales books; Contemporary fantasy romance; Paranormal fantasy romance; Supernatural romance books
Publisher: Dancing Lemur Press LLC
Published: 2022-09-20T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Frederick—dressed in a new pair of jeans and a short-sleeved polo shirt—jumped off the stone wall he’d been sitting on when he saw her approaching.

“You’re still here,” she said by way of greeting.

“Where else would I go?” He crooked his arm, inviting her to slip hers through.

She did, hoping he didn’t feel her trembling, and they headed down the street. She was all shaken up but couldn’t figure out whether it was added trepidation at his presence or relief that he hadn’t disappeared—or changed.

“This morning, when I woke and the place was empty, I thought for a second it had all been a dream,” she confessed. “Coming back from—I mean, I was worried about being late to meet you but then I thought, if it was all a dream, this afternoon won’t matter, since he won’t be here.”

“All a dream...” Frederick’s grip tightened on her arm. “I tried not to think that way myself. Therein lay madness. You’re more troubled than the sight of me is worth, though.”

Evidently, he could tell she was hiding her worries about Lady Cockerell. “How did you know that?”

“My senses—the Beast’s senses—haven’t dimmed.” He grimaced, as if the curse caused him physical pain, and pulled her even tighter against him, joining them at the hip. “I wish I was shut of them, but it seems I’m not wholly cured.”

His new, well-fitted clothes might have something to do with her trembles too, if she was being entirely honest. And the warmth of his expression. He might lose that sweet look when she told him of her plans, though.

“I wonder, if you kissed me again, would it help?”

“Frederick. That couple by the fountain is looking at us.” Her voice rose at the last.

“Yet that’s not why you smell of fear,” he said.

“I smell?”

They went on walking, past the fountain. She pulled her arm from his and, as surreptitiously as possible as they walked, tried to check her armpits.

“No, not like that.” With a smile, he took her arm and tucked it into his once more. “Pheromones.” He stopped again halfway up the high street. “Let’s get out of the open, Lyne. I want to hear what’s happened to you. Also, there’s something I need to tell you.”

“We could go out for dinner. Is there anything special you feel like eating?”

“Not really. But I could murder a pint.”

* * *

“I’m on borrowed time,” Frederick said, returning to the table with their pints, cider for her and some local lager she didn’t recognise for him. “Any moment now I’ll be caught, and she’ll change me back, and I’ll have to return to the caverns.”

He spoke so quietly she barely heard him over the music and the chatter of the after-work crowd. The pub didn’t seem any more private than the street, though it was an old one, even by England’s standards, with many rooms added at different times and low ceilings crossed by wooden beams. Frederick had chosen a booth way at the back, under the lowest beams, half-hidden by a massive stone fireplace.

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