The devil doctor *Completed*

The Shadow man

*Wicky*

I decided I rather enjoy being made love to in the morning. It's a glorious way to wake up. Then we enjoyed breakfast in bed before satisfying each other once again. I can’t recall ever knowing such happiness.

I also discovered that I like being dressed by a man, even if my hair is nothing more than a simple braid. Sitting at my dressing table, I watch as Billy puts on his shoes. I’d never observed a man getting completely dressed before. I rather like all these new experiences.

“I suppose you have to take your leave now,” I say.

Standing, he walks over to me and brings me to my feet. “I’m taking a day of leisure, to do nothing beyond being with you.”

“What of your patients?”

“No one is knocking on death’s door. My housekeeper knows where I am. If a hospital needs me, they’ll send word ’round to her and she’ll send word to me.” He cradles my cheek. “I want to be with you.”

“I promised Ethan I’d take him to the wax museum.”

“I’ll accompany you.”

I can’t deny the pleasure his offer brings me, although a secret part of me has to admit that I’d rather stay abed with him. I’ve never in my life felt so treasured, so appreciated, so cared for. This is how it’s supposed to be between a man and a she-wolf. If Riverdale hadn’t died, I’d have never known.

But I also recognize that there’s more to Billy’s treatment of me. It makes me stronger, it makes me believe that I should be treated better. A small part, a very small part of me wishes I could confront Riverdale and show him that I wasn’t the cowering girl he married.

“Let’s share the news with Ethan.”

But before I can leave the room, Billy takes me into his arms again and kisses me as though he hasn’t spent a good portion of the night doing just that. I wind my arms around his neck, knowing I will never tire of this. Although I have secured no promises from him, I understand now that I don’t require marriage to be happy. It’s enough just to be with him.

When he breaks away and opens the door for me, I know a secretive little smile plays over my lips and hope that Ethan can’t interpret its meaning.

As we walk down the hallway, Billy says, “I’d have not expected you to be a fan of the wax museum.”

“I must admit that I think they might have gone mad making wax creations of the deceased, but I find it fascinating to see people as they were. Although I do avoid the torture chamber.” I know enough about the grisly room to know I have no desire to see instruments of torture or to see them demonstrated on wax figurines, even if they can feel no pain.

“It’s my understanding,” Billy says, “that ladies aren’t allowed in the room because of their delicate sensibilities.”

“Have you ever been in there?”

“No, I’ve seen enough suffering in life not to want to see it in wax.”

“How do you bear it, all the suffering you’ve seen?”

“By focusing on happier things, like moments spent with you.”

He says such lovely things to me. I’m half tempted to forego the trip with Ethan and spend the entire day in my bedchamber with Billy, but I want him to have some time with my son. I know they got along famously while Ethan and I stayed at Billy’s residence during my recovery, but I think it a good idea to reacquaint them as I suspect I will be spending a good deal more time with Billy.

I walk into the nursery, although it seems odd to refer to it as such when Ethan is all of seven years old now. He will soon be exchanging the nursery for the classroom, but for a bit longer he is mine.

Ethan is sitting at a small table, frantically scratching a pencil over his art pad. Several sheets of paper are scattered around the table. His governess is sitting in a nearby chair reading. She quickly stands, but Ethan carries on.

I kneel beside him. “Good morning, darling.”

“There were so many animals. I’m trying to draw them, before I forget what they looked like.”

“You’re doing a marvelous job. Perhaps you’d like to share them with Dr. Grimley. He’s visiting this morning. You remember him, don’t you?”

Ethan looks up then, his dark hair falling across his brow, his dark eyes… his father’s eyes… focusing on Billy. “You took care of Mummy when she was hurt.”

I wish he didn’t remember that particular aspect of our time with Billy. Ethan was only four. I hope he’s forgotten the worst of it by now.

“You carried me on your shoulders in the park,” Ethan continues.

Billy crouches beside me. “Yes, I did. I’d like to take you and your mum to the park again sometime, but I understand you already have a special trip planned for today.”

“Have to finish these first.”

“Did you like walking through the zoological gardens?” Billy asks.

Ethan nods, his hair flapping against his brow. He points to one of the papers. “That’s the lion. He roared.”

“It’s a very good drawing,” Billy says, picking it up and holding it so I can see it clearly. The lion’s mane is almost larger than the lion himself. Off to the side is a tree. Near it is something that appears to be an obelisk: tall and dark, no features. With a quick glance over the other sketches, I see that it appears in several of them. I don’t know why I find it odd, but I do. In one of the drawings, it seems to have arms.

“What is this, darling?” I ask.

Ethan’s tiny brow furrows as he studies where my finger rests, before darting his gaze up to me. “It’s the shadow man.”

Everything within me stills while he returns to his endeavors as though he hadn’t said anything monumental. “What shadow man?” I hate the slight tremor in my voice. I’m very much aware that Billy hasn’t moved, but he seems alert, barely breathing.

Ethan lifts a slender shoulder. “I’ve seen him about. Sometimes in the park. The garden.”

“Our garden?” I ask.

Ethan nods.

I look over at the governess. “Have you seen him?”

“No, my Luna. The young Alpha has mentioned him of course, but he has such an active imagination that I assumed the shadow man was an imaginary friend.”

Yes, that’s probably it, I think. Just a figment…

“He was in my room last night,” Ethan says distractedly, his attention back on his drawing. “I woke up and he was in the shadows. I couldn’t see him very well, but he said he was watching out for me and not to be afraid. This is the elephant.”

He holds the paper out to me, and I take it with trembling fingers. Last night, dear Goddess, last night when I was crying out in pleasure, he was in my residence, in my son’s room. “He’s a very interesting creature with that long snout. So your shadow man, did he say anything else?”

He shakes his head. “But he was wearing my rings.”

“Your rings?”

He nods. “The ones you said I can wear when I’m a man.”

I’ve shown the ducal rings to Ethan several times because he enjoys looking at them.

“I didn’t tell him they were mine,” Ethan says quietly. “’Cuz he was so big.”

Leaning over, I press a kiss to his temple. “He won’t hurt you, darling. Mummy isn’t feeling well, though, so we’re not going on our outing today. You just keep drawing.”

My legs are trembling so badly they can barely support me as I leave the room. What I’m considering is an impossibility, and yet it’s the only thing that makes any sense.

“Wicky, are you all right?” Billy asks.

“Hardly.” With Billy on my heels, I rush down the stairs and hurry into the library, go to the cigar box where I placed the rings after the séance, and lift the lid. They’re gone. After slamming the lid closed, I begin striding toward the door. “I need to speak with Evangeline. My husband either managed to manifest himself into a ghost or he was never dead to begin with.”