under control, I was so tired of that fight. There wasn’t anyone else there except Henry, and as embarrassing as it was to lose the battle in front of him, at least there wasn’t a crowd around. I gave up and a sob escaped as I clenched both hands in the wolf’s fur. “Why can’t I do anything right? Why can’t I be normal? What’s wrong with me?”
There wasn’t an answer, except for all the cruel whispers in the past that still echoed in my thoughts. Tears burned hot against my cheeks as I gave up fighting for that rigid self-control that Deirdre made look so easy. My magic flowed out and bounced around in the room, slamming into Henry and rattling the furniture, but I kept crying and didn’t even bother trying to manage it. Everything was broken anyway. It couldn’t possibly get any worse.
Chapter 24
Henry
She cried for what felt like forever, although Henry wasn’t impatient for it to finish. He was frustrated that he couldn’t adequately comfort Ophelia as she struggled with what sounded like years of grief and frustration and feelings of inadequacy. He hated every second of it and wished there were a way for him to tell her the fault lay with the rest of the world, not her.
Whatever she’d done—or her magic had done—when he surprised them in his room had disrupted whatever it was that let him immediately turn back to human. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, to be stuck as a wolf. Normally he wouldn’t have minded in the least. The only real irritation came from having Ophelia in his room, in his bed, and not being able to welcome her as he’d planned.
Henry let her pull on his fur and beat on his side as she sobbed, and nosed under her arm when she tried to hide her face in the pillow. He didn’t like her hiding herself away. He wanted to see her. He even licked her hand to try and distract her, remembering in a flash that he’d cleaned her hands at the restaurant only a few hours before. Henry bit back a growl of frustration at the circumstances that had brought them together—and yet still kept them apart.
He breathed easier when Ophelia’s tears slowed and then stopped, and she started to relax. Her arm looped across his shoulders as her grip on his fur finally eased. Henry’s ears pricked as he heard a soft sound in the hall as someone approached; he glared at the half-open door as Mercy peeked in, but the other wolf retreated before Ophelia noticed her. He vaguely remembered Deirdre saying something about Nola confronting Evershaw and knew he should have untangled himself from Ophelia and attempted to shift back.
But he couldn’t make himself leave her. She absently petted his head, her fingers working around the base of his ears, and Henry groaned in sheer ecstasy at the sensation. It was surprisingly intimate, to have her stroking him like that in his wolf form. He waited, unsure of what to do. He could have shifted back to human, but somehow he didn’t think having a naked man snuggled up to her instead of a wolf would help Ophelia’s equilibrium any.
So he remained in wolf form and waited until her hands stilled and her breathing slowed and she slept. Henry eased off the bed and shifted so he could get dressed, and hesitated as he looked at where Ophelia dozed. He didn’t understand much about magic, but it sure looked exhausting. He tiptoed out of his room and searched for where his sister and Evershaw had ended up. Even though he didn’t want to, he needed to talk to Nola about what her real goal was. Henry got the feeling he’d get no peace until the Montana pack was sorted out.
Henry found Deirdre, Evershaw, Nola, Fran, and Mercy on the front porch, sitting in relative silence as Nola and Evershaw scowled at each other. Deirdre patted her mate’s arm and gestured for Henry to take a seat. “How is Ophelia?”
“Sleeping,” he said, and didn’t want to say another damn thing about her in front of his sister. Henry exhaled and steeled himself for an uncomfortable conversation. “I hear there was trouble earlier, Nola. Care to explain?”
Her expression darkened. “It’s not my fault the males had no control or manners.”
He sighed but didn’t press further. Nola didn’t suffer fools, and Henry knew there were enough fools in SilverLine that a confrontation had been inevitable. He’d just wished