too much. “He doesn’t talk about it, but every now and then when he’s really, really drunk, he’ll let something slip.”
She made a thoughtful noise. “Sounds lonely.”
Henry loved her even more in that moment, that she would have worried about Silas’s background and whether that left him isolated. He concentrated on making sandwiches, though, slicing a few tomatoes and peeling lettuce leaves away from the stack. He didn’t know what she liked, but there was plenty of time to learn.
There would absolutely be plenty of time to learn exactly how she liked things.
He distracted her with stories that Silas had told and little pieces of information that the rest of the pack put together from the few tidbits the former mercenary let slip, though Henry’s thoughts strayed to the coming confrontation. He didn’t care what happened to him, or even really to Silas, as long as Ophelia was safe. He knew that Deirdre and Evershaw, and the rest of the pack if something happened to the alpha, would take care of her. She would be safe and protected.
Henry was still musing over something Silas had said about a misadventure in Zimbabwe when the kitchen door creaked open. Fran, wide-eyed and meek, crept in but lingered near the wall. “Has something happened?”
He nodded, pushing a plate with three enormous sandwiches into Ophelia’s hands. “Someone attacked the pack and took one of our enforcers hostage. We’re going to get him back in a couple of hours, but for now... it’s best to stay inside and out of the way.”
He didn’t have anything against her, but he couldn’t let a completely submissive wolf distract everyone else from what needed to be done. Fran radiated the need to be protected, which wasn’t entirely her fault. Doubtless that was how she’d been raised; it was safer, really, for females in his stepfather’s pack. Don’t pose a threat, don’t offer an opinion, just go along. He gritted his teeth and wished he’d been strong enough, so many years ago, to have made a difference in her life.
“I’d like to help,” Fran said quietly, her hands linked in front of her. Her eyes had shaded pale and a curious intensity filled her expression.
Before he could say anything, Ophelia nodded. “How can you help? What’s your strength?”
“I’m a tracker,” Fran said. She straightened her thin shoulders. “The best tracker in the pack. That’s why Nola thought...” Her eyes darted to Henry and she flushed, then returned her attention to Ophelia. “That’s why Nola thought that your mate and I would suit. With my apologies.”
“Not a problem,” Ophelia said. She absently reached out to pat Henry’s shoulder. “Everyone seems to want a piece of this big guy. So. We’ve got a tracker. I’m not sure that the sorcerer leaves a track, but I trust that you would be the one to find him. Henry, are there teams out looking for Silas now?”
He blinked, feeling like he’d completely lost control of the situation, and looked between the two women. “Uh... yes, of course there are. I’ll just, uh...”
“Let’s get Fran linked in with one of the teams,” Ophelia said, rather more firmly than he’d expected. Henry’s wolf thrilled; confident Ophelia was back and ready to tackle the world. He wanted to lift her onto the kitchen counter and rip off her clothes, regardless of whether that covered them both in vegetables and deli meat, and may have grumbled a little as his hands flexed in anticipation of grabbing her. Ophelia pointed a warning finger at him, though her gaze sparked with heat that only fed his lust. “Not now, sir. I have work to do with Deirdre.”
Henry watched as she took the plate and sailed through the door, headed to the workroom, and frowned in thought. When he didn’t move, Fran said softly, “I like her.”
“Yeah,” Henry said, smiling. “I do too.” He straightened his shoulders and hoped that Evershaw had mostly survived the standoff with Deirdre. “Let’s get you out to work.”
She nodded and followed him, as resolute as Henry’s mate.
Chapter 35
Ophelia
The hour passed far too quickly. Deirdre was in a foul mood after whatever happened in her conversation with Miles, but she went straight to the book she wanted and started pulling out spells that might serve to distract and destroy Rocko. I stood back and offered what help I could, but it really was her driving the train. She would have made an amazing head witch for a coven, although the thought was a little terrifying to