The Wolf Esprit: Lykanos Chronicles 3
Chapter Sixty-Six

New York City, 1859

“Good evening, Mister James,” I bid my butler while stepping down from my carriage.

“Welcome home, sir,” the older man nodded. “I’m glad to see you’re doing well. Did you receive my wire at the Greenport station?”

“I didn’t,” I replied with a frown. “Is everything all right?”

“Quite well,” James assured me. “I wanted to warn you that your brother, Thomas, arrived last week to visit you. He didn’t realize you were still on holiday—he meant to surprise you.”

I stared at James with undisguised curiosity. None of the others went by the name Thomas, and only Bastiano still used our original New York surname, Van Duren. Had he changed his name again without saying? And why would he visit my house? He knew I was summering in the Hamptons.

“Did he?” I asked

“I welcomed him to stay when he asked to wait upon your return, of course. But I didn’t think you’d wish to walk in after your journey without notice. I apologize they didn’t hand you the wire at the station, sir.”

I looked at the house to see the second-floor parlor windows lit by the gas lamps like a beacon.

“That’s all right. It wasn’t your fault,” I assured him. “See to my things, and I’ll go up to say hello. I’ll leave my hat and coat for you on the banister.”

“Yes, sir,” James answered, and he nodded to the footman who’d already started receiving my cases from my driver. “I’ve taken the liberty of having Missus Stansfield serve you both supper in an hour. I’ll bring cocktails in a moment.”

“Thank you, James,” I told him.

Stepping inside, I couldn’t sense a lycan mind. Good evening, I said, but no response came. Further perplexed, I made my way to the second floor and found a man I didn’t recognize seated in the parlor. Dressed for dinner, I sensed nothing from him. Certain he was human, I approached with concern. Then I stopped when his eyes found mine, and Duccio unshielded his mind.

Esprit, he said.

I felt his sound throughout my body. Its familiarity was striking as if more than a century hadn’t stood between us.

He looked older, though still only thirty. He’d cut his black waves short in the modern style, combed them with light oil, and sported a mustache. But all these changes couldn’t disguise his blue eyes, which stared at me with intense fascination.

My skin tingled as my wolf woke to meet the threat.

A shadow passed over Duccio’s eyes, and he sighed as if disappointed by my fear of him.

No, he said and rose to approach me.

Instinctively, I stepped back, but he reached to take my face and kissed me like he had when I was a boy. The details I’d forgotten—the warmth of his skin, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of him—all of Duccio happened to me again. From his mind came the hunger of his attraction, an indescribable hum that pulled my cock to attention and blocked any rational thought I might’ve produced.

I needed him just as much as he needed me, and without a word of protest, I let him draw me upstairs to my bed. Only a moment’s hesitation stopped me—I didn’t want James or anyone in the house to discover us. But then I remembered the strength of Duccio’s mind over humans, a gift I’d never received in all my years, and I knew he’d never allow someone to disturb us. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

A riot of passion followed as we fell back into the old rhythms. There’d been nothing in my life to compare to Duccio, to the indescribable ecstasy of love-making between two lycan. It was as rich as I remembered—our bodies and minds engaged in erotic play, our most potent desires transparent to the other. And as we lay tangled and spent afterward, I couldn’t stop smiling at the sublime contentment I hadn’t felt in so long.

I held to the sensation for as long as possible, knowing everything we must say to each other and the details he would no doubt demand. Just a few moments longer, I begged of myself before I must feed him at my table and hear his recriminations.

“There’s no need for that,” he whispered. “I forgive you.”

I released a heavy sigh and closed my eyes.

“Of course, we must discuss it,” I answered. “How can we move forward with it all unsaid?”

“Say what you wish if it will bring you relief. I’ve seen all the details in her mind and comprehend the reasons for your actions. As I said, they are long past, and I bear only love for you now.”

I held tight to his shoulder and kissed his heavy jaw.

“I love you too,” I said, laying my head on his chest, feeling the last bit of luxurious joy I’d been without for a century.

He nuzzled my hair and kissed my forehead as he’d done a hundred times.

“Then all is right between the two of you?”

“It’s all over,” Duccio answered.

“How did you find her?”

“By chance, as luck would have it,” he said. “I was looking in on an old acquaintance in Washington, D.C., when I sensed the Princess.”

“In Philadelphia?” The strength of his senses had always astonished me, but the distance between the two cities was staggering.

“Well, I sensed others,” he clarified. “And as I got closer, I became more sure.”

“Did you meet her husband and daughter?”

“I had no opportunity to speak with them. It happened all so swiftly, I’m afraid.”

From Duccio’s mind, I saw Henry and Barbara’s faces filled with fear. Then I saw their transformations as he confronted them, followed by flashes of their deaths.

I gasped, though I otherwise remained still. I was stunned by what he shared.

“Forgive me. I didn’t intend to burden you with those memories,” Duccio said. “But you understand it couldn’t have ended any other way.”

“And Guccia?” I whispered.

“To her credit, she attempted to lie to me on your behalf. The Princess insisted she told you she’d finished the deed—that she’d murdered me and begged you to flee alongside her. But I took the truth from her mind and saw what truly happened, the suffering you shared with her. And I understand why you joined her,” he added. “I won’t bring myself to say I agree with your decision, even after what I did, but I understand your reasoning. I have nothing left but love for you.”

You killed her, I said silently.

“She begged me to forgive her, even after trying to have me murdered and taking you away from me. When I think of all the times others have misunderstood or underestimated me…” he sighed. “In any event, it’s done.”

I struggled to form the words of my next question, knowing what the answer must be. “And the others?”

“Her mercenaries are no more. Nor is their pack. I’ve emptied the city of my enemies and their brood, and I mean to keep it that way. Keep it just for you and me. There’s something more I must tell—

Overcome by nausea, I bolted away from Duccio to wretch over my side of the bed.

He placed his hand on my back to comfort me.

“Forgive me, Esprit. You know why it had to happen as it did. But it’s over now, and your pain will heal as all pain does in time. We have another chance to begin again, and no one will come between us this time.”

Tears poured from my eyes as the nausea receded, and I pushed my face into the pillow in search of darkness.

“You’re tired, and you need rest,” Duccio said. “I’ll go down to make your apologies and send someone to clean up. Try to rest when they’re done.”

In moments, he dressed and made his way out of my bedroom.

I felt numb as if his words weren’t real—as if Duccio himself were not real.

He hadn’t let me see the last of her, and my mind raced to remember Guccia’s eyes alive. I couldn’t bear it if my imagination replaced all those living memories with dead eyes.

What had I done? I asked myself the question a dozen times as I lay there in disbelief.

I’d never believed Duccio could have survived Prince Adelchi’s justice in Venice. Guccia had been absolutely certain he would meet his end there. She feared only what might happen to her if the others discovered her betrayal of their trust. Despite all the things I had watched Duccio do—his cunning strength, his fire for life, and the ferocious execution of his plan to save my own—I’d never believed I might see him again. And as a lifetime separated us, and I forgot so much about Duccio and the past, I’d also forgotten my hatred of him. So much so that I remembered nothing else but my passion for him when he kissed me this night.

But now it all returned: his indomitable will, his insistence that he must win, and the cruelty with which he dispatched that will. What would happen the next time I enraged him?

I must get away, I realized. I must flee this place at once and go as far as I can, somewhere he wouldn’t find me. It would never stop, I knew then. He could never be stopped; all I could do was fly away.

I sat up and looked for my clothes, dressing with purpose and thinking of how I could escape. My bags hadn’t been brought up to the room, but I had my traveling papers and wallet in my jacket pocket. I’d left my coat and hat downstairs, but it didn’t matter. Duccio would see me if I left through the front door and stop me.

I took another hat from my closet, opened my room door, and peered into the hallway. Time had not furnished me with half his gifts, but I knew well enough how to mask my thoughts from another lycan. I doubted myself only for a moment before entering the hall and turning to take the servant’s staircase. Duccio would never find me there if I concentrated and stopped a single thought from leaving my mind.

I descended the flights quietly, desperate not to be noticed even by the humans in the house. When I got to the main floor, I continued one more flight to the cellar kitchen. To my delight, I saw the footman had placed my bags near the door to take upstairs during dinner service. Of the three, I settled on one, knowing it contained essentials, and took it by the handle.

“Good evening, sir,” a maid bid me with confusion. The sight of the master of the house downstairs seemed to startle the young woman.

“Good evening, Sarah,” I answered. “Please, don’t let me disturb your work. I only need to check on something.”

I turned from her and walked calmly to the servants’ entrance, taking the stairs to the rear of the house. I kept my mind closed, not so much as allowing myself to think that Duccio might have heard the girl’s startled mind. Instead, I unlatched the rear gate and walked out onto 39th Street, down which I strolled away from my house and New York one step at a time.

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