Wild Magic One: By the Light of the Moon-- A Wolf Shifter M/M Romance

9- At Home

**Some M/M smut ahead.... Please comment and let me know what you think so far. Criticisms/suggestions are always welcome :):)**

***I have a short story/novella planned for Nibley and Dasan's love story. If you'd like to read that, let me know and I'll start working on it... ***

EDON

The first few weeks in the castle went by in a blur. Each morning, I convinced myself to stay one more day. Each night, I called myself a liar and admitted I had no plans to leave.

I had never felt so much at home. Not since I was a child in Ma and Pa's cottage.

It was a feeling I relished, and one I attributed to one man. One man who had been steadily ignoring me since he asked me to stay and gave me a job. One man who wouldn't leave my mind, no matter how I tried to distract myself.

He was truly a beautiful male, if that word could be attributed to a man. His hair was blonde, but with touches of red when the light shone on it right. His jaw was strong, and he was almost always perfectly clean-shaven. But every once in awhile, when I could sense he'd had a long day, or hadn't slept well the night before, a slight smattering of stubble would be drawn across his skin, accentuating the lines of his jaw and the smoothness of his lips. He had full, pale lips that drew me in every time he spoke. Almost like he was purposely pursing them and licking them as he spoke just to draw my eyes.

I had never felt so attracted to someone— had never really been attracted to anyone at all, really. It was like a physical pull, like he had a rope attached to my chest, drawing me in.

But ever since I woke, ever since I was able to eat on my own, and began to heal, he had treated me like a pariah. I approached him a few times, not quite sure what I wanted, what I would say. But just wanting to be near him; craving the sound of his voice. But each time he answered for me, because he would act politely, sometimes even say a few words of greeting, ask how I was, before disappearing. Before running away.

Because I may be completely clueless when it came to human social constructs, but even I couldn't mistake a man running from something. Or someone.

I spent my days with Lacy, and then with Tate. Lacy dragged me into town on multiple occasions, spending her days among the people in the little town below the keep. She helped a hedge witch pick herbs and weed her garden, aided a hunter in skinning his latest catch, and spent days watching the town blacksmith forge weapons. She barely seemed to notice the sweat dripping down her skin as she sat far too close to the fire, listening intently as the blacksmith explained each step he took. She had excitedly told me that he had promised he would help her make her own dagger for her sixteenth birthday, and so until then she was studying with him.

She seemed to have a fascination with the goings-on in the town, and in the castle. She helped the head chef put together breakfast, waking before the sun rose. I followed her and slept near the fireplace in the kitchen. The head chef seemed to have a certain sort of gruff affection for me, despite his initial protestations that dogs didn't belong in the kitchen, because on the second day I was there, a plate of marrow rich bones sat waiting for me by the fire. My room, a small, cozy, warm space, was just beside Lacy's, so I always knew when she was sneaking in or out and I was able to follow her silently, no matter the time of day or night.

Her excitement, her genuine care for the simple day-to-day of the people around her, and her pure affection she bestowed on everyone she saw, made her universally beloved. But there were a few eyes, many older men and some women who wore rich silks and furs, who showed their distaste. They watched her, and me, like we were some dirty question they couldn't find the answer to. That they wanted to be rid of. But Lacy ignored them, so I did too. I stayed near her, and I watched her, and I kept silent.