slink away, but Nola’s hand shot out and captured her arm. “You can’t abandon your mate, Henry. Mother negotiated with her parents. You two have been promised since you were sixteen. It’s time you did the right thing and claimed her. Then you can return to the pack.”
He wondered if maybe something had happened to his sister’s hearing. She wasn’t going to ever listen to him, not when the reality she wanted to create was still a possibility. Henry didn’t think she’d accept his declarations that he didn’t want to mate with the terrified-looking Fran—nor did the girl look like she wanted anything to do with him—and something more drastic was necessary to convince Nola to leave him alone.
His jaw ached as he ground his teeth. It wasn’t the best plan he’d ever come up with, but he was out of options. “Regardless of what Mother may have promised, I’ve found my mate here in the city. I will not put aside my true mate for a political alliance negotiated years ago.”
Nola actually took a step back in surprise, her dark eyes widening. “You what?”
“I already found my mate,” he said calmly, and hoped that Deirdre would back him up. He wouldn’t put good odds on Mercy keeping her mouth shut, since the younger woman tended to speak first and think later. “I will not leave her or our pack. It’s better for you to leave, Nola, and we can put this behind us.”
“I’d like to meet her,” his sister said, her eyes narrowing. “Tonight. To make sure she’s... good enough for my little brother.”
He resisted the urge to shake some sense into her. She didn’t believe him, that was plain enough. Henry could have grabbed Mercy’s wrist and dragged her to his side as a fake mate, though it would have been like kissing his underage sister. Just the thought made his skin crawl. And if he touched Deirdre, Evershaw would skin him alive—if the witch didn’t do it herself.
Which meant...
Henry reached back to catch Ophelia’s wrist, dragging her forward to stand next to him, and looped his arm around her shoulders. “She’s right here. My mate. Ophelia.”
The witch stiffened as she became the center of all attention, and Henry held his breath as he braced for a jolt of magic to fire out and zap him. Or maybe zap Nola. His sister’s scowl deepened as she sniffed the air. “She’s not a wolf.”
“She’s a witch,” Henry said. “A very powerful witch.”
Nola’s nose wrinkled. “You’re supposed to breed with our kind, Henry.”
His wolf objected, since the idea of breeding with Ophelia almost sent him into a frenzy. And he didn’t like to think of it as “breeding,” not when it would mean so much more to him to share Ophelia’s bed. He held on to control with his fingernails and kept his hold on Ophelia gentle, though she stiffened every time his sister spoke. “This is none of your business.”
“Your mate doesn’t seem particularly happy to see you,” Nola said.
Her cruel gaze settled on Ophelia and Henry immediately wanted to protect the witch. He shouldn’t have gotten her involved or drawn Nola’s attention to her. He’d wanted to save himself but instead dragged Ophelia into a situation she wasn’t prepared to deal with. He wanted to groan and fall on his knees to beg her forgiveness, but that would have to wait. He ignored his sister and instead turned to the witch, his fingers sliding under her chin so he could tip her face up.
He hoped some of his regret was visible in his eyes as she met his gaze, but Ophelia stared at him wide-eyed and he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. Henry brushed his lips to hers and murmured, “Of course you’re happy to see me, aren’t you, Ophelia?”
Her lips parted in surprise, and it felt like an eternity before she breathed, “Yes.”
He smiled, lost in her eyes, and caressed her cheek with his thumb. He wanted to carry her away to explore what else might make her all wide-eyed and dazed, but he had a business meeting and a horrible older sister to deal with. Henry leaned down to taste her lips again, encouraged when her hand rested lightly on his waist under his sport coat, and slid his fingers into her hair to keep her close. God help him, it was the best lie he’d ever told.
Chapter 19
Ophelia
I’d taken Henry’s suggestion that I practice magic around him to Deirdre, and she’d been oddly supportive