This was all her fault. But worse, she did not know how to fix it.

  “Why are you sorry?”

  Unbidden tears came to her eyes. He was going to hate her, and she couldn’t blame him. “We were discussing spells for animals and that I wouldn’t cast one.”

  “Why?”

  “There is a wolf…”

  “A wolf?”

  “Yes. I met him in the forest.”

  “A wolf?” he questioned in disbelief. “There are no wolves in England.”

  “There is a pack in the forest, and I met the alpha. He wanted to be human.”

  Philip just gaped at her, and his emotions of disbelief were almost a balm to the fear and anxiety that had been radiating off his being earlier.

  “You were going to do such a thing?”

  “No,” she quickly answered. “At least, I did not feel right doing so even though he asked, and I was explaining to your cousins and Lady Samantha…”

  “And you read a wolf spell?” he asked slowly, and she could feel his anxiety mounting again.

  “We were talking about animal spells, and I thought to look at the one to change a wolf into a man, to look for the warning symbol…I saw none on that page.” She looked up into his eyes. None of the details mattered. “I started to read what I thought was the right spell to my friends, not worried because there were no wolves around, but stopped when I realized that it was the wrong spell… and well, it was just the four of us…or so I thought…”

  “What spell did you cast, Lady Antonia?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  She winced and took a step back.

  “A spell to change a mortal, non-magical man into a werewolf.”

  He stared at her for the briefest of moments, mouth agape and his cobalt eyes turning nearly black. “There is a bloody spell for that?” he yelled. “Who in their right mind would write such?”

  “I do not know,” she whispered. “It is old, and it should not have worked anyway.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It is supposed to be said three times under a New Moon. I only said it once.”

  “Apparently once is enough,” he yelled again.

  Antonia took another step back. She did not blame Chedworth for being angry.

  “Also, nothing is supposed to happen until the next full moon. That is when everything is to take effect. I don’t know why you are having changes now.”

  “Because it was only partially finished,” he bellowed.

  Antonia frowned. “Do you think so?”

  “How would I know. I am not a bloody witch.”

  She really wished that he would quit yelling but understood why he did. Each angry word brought such a pain to her head. Not only that, but his pain and fear flooded her being and mixed with her own regret and horror of what she had done. It was almost too overwhelming, and she had to keep backing away as her body swayed and her stomach churned. This is what happened when in a room full of people, but she’d never experienced the like from only one person. Not that Antonia could blame Chedworth, and maybe she felt it so strongly because all his negative emotions were directed at her.

  Antonia swayed again and grasped a tree to keep from falling.

  “Are you ill?” he asked with concern.

  She raised her arm and pointed. “Please stand further way.”

  He kept stepping back until he was far enough that his emotions were not fully impacting her.

  “I will fix this,” she finally said.

  “Do you know a spell to undo it?”

  “No, because it wasn’t a completed spell,” she reminded Chedworth.

  “What of the spell book you were reading from? Something must be in there.”

  Antonia nearly groaned and explained how she’d tried and that the wording was faded.

  “Can’t you make it reappear?”

  She stilled. Why hadn’t she thought of that. “Of course.” Antonia rushed out of the clearing, through the gate and all the way back to the house before she hurried to her chamber where she grabbed the book.

  Quickly, she flipped to the pages then stood close to the window to make out the writing. It was no better in the light of day.

  She then set the book aside and drew out parchment from her writing desk and started to pen a spell. Her hands shook and she could barely read her own handwriting, but this must be done. She then gathered her crystals and candles and placed them on the table with the book in the center. Antonia was just about to read the spell when there was a scratch at her door.

  Now was not the time to be disturbed, but she called for them to enter anyway.

  It was Petra who stepped inside. “My mother wishes to see you.”

  Antonia’s stomach tightened.

  “It is about my cousin.”

  Chapter Ten

  While Lady Antonia had been explaining to Philip what had likely occurred, Basilia, the dryad, had told his aunt what she had witnessed. Basilia had then demanded that a protection spell be placed around the Sacred Grove to keep Philip from entering until the matter of his animal state was corrected. To do so would require both of his aunts and mother, and likely every female witch of Drakos blood.

  The dryads were truly frightened of him.

  He was frightened.

  “I have sent for your mother and your other aunt, Lady Norcott, still remains here,” his aunt stated.

  He in turn told Aunt Iris of the spell that Lady Antonia had cast.

  She did not appear overly concerned but did send for the witches who were present.

  He was turning into a bloody werewolf.

  Philip strode across the room and poured himself a brandy, not caring that it wasn’t even noon.

  A bloody werewolf!

  What if Lady Antonia couldn’t fix him. Would he endure changes for a short time every midnight? Would he become a wolf during the next full moon? Would they have to lock him up to keep him from killing someone? What if it was permanent?

  What if he turned into a werewolf and was never a man again?

  Changes! The Romani said he would go through changes until the next full moon.

  Is this what she had bloody seen?

  Each question compounded his anxiety, and he drank deeply.

  Cassian entered the parlor, followed by Amcaster, and paused. “Why is Chedworth drinking so early?”

  “He has been suffering some changes of late, which will be explained.”

  “Like your hand?” Amcaster asked with a laugh.

  Philip speared him with a threatening glare. He was not at all in the mood to endure his friend’s humor.

  Amcaster quickly sobered. “As serious as that,” he mumbled.

  “You wanted to see me?” Maia asked as she entered the parlor, followed by Samantha. They glanced around and frowned.

  It wasn’t long before Petra arrived, followed by Lady Antonia.

  She paused just inside the threshold.

  “I understand you may have turned my nephew into a werewolf.”

  Lady Antonia immediately lost all color as her eyes grew panicked.

  “No, not possible,” Petra said. “The spell…”

  She trailed off as her mother lifted an eyebrow in curiosity.

  “Tell me of the spell.”

  Antonia once again tried to explain what had occurred, but she had barely gotten started when his aunt held up a hand.

  “This wolf, was his name Amarok?”

  Lady Antonia blinked. “Yes.”

  “I had forgotten about him.”

  “Who is Amarok?” Petra asked.

  “A very charming wolf and dangerous,” her mother answered.

  “Except he wasn’t the one who was changed, so can we please return to the matter at hand,” Philip reminded them.

  Lady Antonia winced, and he was sorry that his words were so sharp, but the blasted wolf did not matter.

  “You encouraged the spell?” his aunt asked Petra.

  Then they all started speaking at once, asking questions, some that were answered, talking over each other, and even Amcaster and Jourdain contributed. The excitement of what might happen, what had been done, and suggestions for solving the matter were so continuous that Philip couldn’t even keep track of what they were saying. However, the one person who was not speaking was Lady Antonia. She had withdrawn as far as she could go without leaving, her hand braced against the wall, her face had lost all color.

  He’d seen her as such in London, which was usually before she disappeared for the night.

  He couldn’t understand it then, nor did he understand it now. Except, guilt and fear at what she may have done could be causing the panic. If that was the case, what had she done in London that he knew nothing about?

  Not that it bloody mattered because it could not have been as serious as turning him into a werewolf.

  She closed her eyes, her knuckles turning white from her grip on the wall. Slowly her body bent, and Philip prepared himself for her to dissolve into a bucket of tears, except it was pain that was etched across her features.

  “I need to go,” she whispered, yet somehow, he had heard her.

  She turned for the entry, but he was not going to let her run away from him again.

  She may have gotten away with it after a waltz, but she had caused this mess and he’d make her stay and fix it.

  As soon as she stepped through the door, Philip crossed the drawing room, taking quick strides, determined to catch Lady Antonia and haul her back to the parlor. What he hadn’t expected to come across was her unconscious form in the middle of the entry.

  What the blazes had happened to her?

  Antonia woke with a jolt and sat up in her bed. The room was dark, and she had no idea how late it was, or it could be early morning.

  How had she even gotten here? The last thing she recalled was trying to flee the overwhelming emotion coming from those in the parlor. Emotions that she had caused.

  She pushed the coverlet away and stood to walk to the window and look out. The moon was high, which meant it was nearing midnight.

  That was when Chedworth’s changes occurred.

  She needed to see to understand.

  Antonia still wanted to believe that they were all mistaken but knew they were not.

  Chedworth may not want to see her, and no doubt he hated her and would ask her to leave Nightshade Manor as soon as the spell had been reversed, but she still needed to help him.

  She quickly slipped on shoes and hurried toward the door, only to stop when she caught sight of her appearance. Tangled curls dropped about her shoulders, and she quickly brushed her hair and tied it back to be out of the way. Antonia would have liked to have changed out of her wrinkled and rumpled gown but did not have time.

  Quietly she opened her chamber door and looked out to make certain no one was around. It wouldn’t do to be caught meeting Lord Chedworth at midnight. She was in enough trouble with this family already.

  Slipping down the stairs she only paused when she heard quiet conversation coming from the parlor.

  Of course, his family would be awake. It wasn’t as if what was happening to him was a secret, thus she’d not be able to keep her presence unknown either.

  With a heavy sigh she entered the parlor expecting to find Chedworth, but only his aunt, Maia and Petra were within.

  “Did you get sufficient rest, Lady Antonia?” Lady Wharton asked with concern.

  “Yes, thank you for asking. I am sorry if I inconvenienced anyone.”

  Her smile was kind and gentle. “I can understand why you were overwhelmed.”

  Could she? Ah, yes. Her mother had explained her need for a veiling spell.

  “Does everyone else?” she asked looking about the room.

  “No,” Lady Wharton answered. “Just us, which is why I was not overly alarmed when you did collapse.”

  “Thank you for not saying anything. This power tends to make people very uncomfortable, even though I have no control.”

  She nodded and perhaps Lady Wharton did understand.

  “This veiling spell or potion that the four of you have been seeking is for you, is it not?” Lady Wharton asked.

  Antonia nodded. “It is selfish, and perhaps I should not even attempt such, and should simply avoid large gatherings.”

  “In some instances, I may agree that a witch should not diminish a gift that has been bestowed on them, except in your case, it is too much to endure and not the least bit beneficial since it reduces you to exhaustion.” Her smile was gentle. “We should have taken more care in our emotions with you so close.”

  “No. Nobody should guard because of me,” Antonia insisted. People had tried in the past and it never worked. She would have still experienced their emotions had they whispered or said nothing. “Where is Lord Chedworth? I wish to help and apologize again.”

  “He has gone to the cove to be alone and didn’t want his changes to be displayed to gawkers like ourselves as if he were a beast in a menagerie.”

  If such were happening to her, Antonia might feel the same. “Oh, of course.” What did she do now?

  “Though I do not believe my son would mind if you were there and it might be beneficial to help with a spell to reverse the process.”

  Antonia quickly turned to the voice from behind and dipped a quick curtsey. “Lady St. Alban. Please forgive me.”

  As with Lady Wharton, her smile was gentle. “You did not possess malicious intent in your heart, and my son should not have been sneaking about.”

  How could she not blame her?

  “We will get the right of it figured out, but for now, you will find him at the water’s edge.”

  Antonia glanced at the old clock on the far wall and noted that it would shortly be midnight. She offered a nod then exited to the terrace and then down the steps to the beach where she found Lord Chedworth pacing.

  “I am sorry,” she said again.

  He did not turn and look at her, though Antonia should not be surprised. He likely hated her, and she could not blame him for doing so.

  However, his aura was rather curious and not what she expected.

  Orange, though closer to the tangerines she’d seen, and a color of thoughtfulness, mixed with dark purple, which wasn’t a surprise since it indicated a challenging situation and decisions that deviate from true desires, and lastly, the murky white remained, which usually meant fear and uncertainty, and of course, the three colors were a sign of changes. But there was no anger or hatred toward her. His emotions were all connected to how he felt about his situation.

  They could just as quickly change, and hatred could be focused on her. Right now, he was waiting to see if his hands would change again.

  He winced and put a hand against his ear.

  “Should I go? Do you wish to be alone?”

  “You can stay. It is the rest I wanted away.”

  Antonia nodded and took a step back, not certain what to expect or what to do. It was then that Chedworth sank down on the sand. Pain radiated from his being as he pressed his hands against the sand.

  It was nearly too much to stand as her hands and ears began to hurt as she experienced his pain.

  Right before her eyes, the fingernails grew longer, and hair covered the back of each hand. He turned his head and groaned and that was when she noticed that his ear was now pointed and covered in hair.

  Would this happen to his entire body?

  Chedworth remained where he was, his breaths heavy from exertion and pain and then, in a blink, all evidence that he could be a werewolf was gone and pain fled her body.

  He rested a few moments longer then sat back on the sand.

  Antonia rushed forward. “I will find your answers. I will not sleep until I do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Philip hadn’t wanted anyone to witness his changes. Who knew what would happen on the third night?

  The first night had been a hand. The second night had been both hands. This was the third, but he saw no other changes, except his ears had pained him.

  “Did my ears change?”

  Lady Antonia nodded.

  Was his nose next? Would he grow a snout? What of long teeth?

  None of the changes were pleasant but were only physical. Inside, his thoughts and emotions remained the same, so he didn’t truly turn into an animal. Or that was his assumption, though he had no idea how animals thought or felt.

  At least if he turned into a bloody wolf he could still communicate with Lady Antonia.

  Bloody hell!

  This was her fault.

  But, as she may be the only communication he would have left after the full moon, he might as well get used to having her around.

  And, if he fully turned into a wolf, he would not allow her to leave. She caused this and would stay with him.

  Lady Antonia scooted away from him and wrapped her arms around her body.

  When Philip looked at her, she winced.

  Likely because it was more of a glare.

  “I truly am sorry,” she whispered.

  Her eyes were bleak and her skin pale, so much so that he could tell when there was hardly a moon to reflect off the water.

  “Why did you collapse?” he asked after a moment. Even though he was angry with her, and scared of what was happening, worry for her had overwhelmed everything when he saw her unconscious in the middle of the entry. Even though he had tapped her face, she had not responded. She hadn’t even stirred when he carried Lady Antonia to her chamber and placed her on the bed. Her eyelashes hadn’t even fluttered. His aunt, however, had not been concerned and had simply stated that Lady Antonia needed rest, though he could not imagine from what.

  Lady Antonia looked away. “That is not important. Reversing the spell is.”

  Too many times she had avoided his questions, and him, and Philip was not about to allow it to happen now, especially since she had secrets.

  He reached out and gently grasped her arm before she could run away from him again.

  Lady Antonia winced as if he had struck her when he’d barely touched her.

  Philip let his hand fall away. “I am not going to hurt you, and I can’t believe that you would think I would.”