Chapter 135

Ava

Ophelia let out a satisfied sigh and leaned back in her chair, patting her full belly.

“Ah… That was delicious,” she said, shutting her eyes happily. “I swear, the food here is so much better.”

Leonard and I exchanged amused glances from across the kitchen table. “The food here is very rich in vitamins,” Leonard explained as he rose from his chair and began collecting our empty dishes. “The roast rabbit you just ate probably had more protein in it than you’d normally have in a full week in the human world.”

Ophelia giggled. “Well, if I start getting fat while I’m here, no one try to stop me. I’ll be enjoying myself.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. Standing, I helped Leonard clear the plates and brought them to the kitchen, where I turned on the sink to get started washing them. But before I could, Leonard caught my arm and shook his head.

“Let me do it.”

“Leonard, it’s fine,” I said with a laugh. “Please, relax.”

However, he insisted. “It’s the least I can do,” he said. “You’re opening your home to me. Let me wash the damn dishes.”

Thoroughly scolded, I held my hands up in mock surrender and stepped out of the room. I joined Ophelia in the living room, where we got to work placing sheets down on the sofa and loveseat for the two of them to sleep tonight.

It was going to be a full house, that was for sure; now, more than ever, I wished I had a little guest room. In fact, I was beginning to wonder if I should plan on building an addition onto my house for times like this.

As Ophelia helped me stretch the sheets over the couch cushions, I caught her gazing at Leonard’s form through the kitchen archway. I shot her a mischievous smirk and nudged her with my elbow.

“So… You and Leonard.”

Her eyes widened enormously. “Don’t you start,” she chided, pursing her lips. “There’s nothing—”

“You don’t need to try and hide it,” I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s more than obvious.”

Ophelia’s face reddened. “Really? Is it that easy to tell?”

“Judging from the way your lipstick was smudged earlier… I’d say yes,” I replied. “But it’s okay. I think so long as you two are happy, you should go for it.”

For a moment, Ophelia sighed, staring wistfully at Leonard’s tall form. Finally, she shook her head and averted her gaze. “I don’t know,” she muttered, sinking down onto the couch.

I frowned and placed my hands on my hips. “Why not?”

She shrugged. “Well, I mean… I’m a human,” she said, eyeing me warily. “I’m assuming that there are rules against that, too.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but the words died before they even reached my tongue. Ophelia was right; it was one thing for werewolves to marry humans on the human continent, but for humans to marry werewolves here was another beast entirely. I hadn’t really thought about it before.

“Well… I don’t know if there are ‘rules’ against it, per se,” I said thoughtfully. “But…”

“But those damnable Elders don’t seem like the type to allow it,” Ophelia grumbled. I shot her a wide-eyed look, and she waved her hand. “I’ve seen the way they look at me, darling. Not just the Elders, but the other people at the ball. I’m an outsider.”

“You’re not an outsider to me,” I retorted.

“Not to you, or Chris, or Leonard, no,” she replied. “But an outsider to many others; and I’m only just visiting. Imagine if I actually did go through with moving here. Or if…” Her voice trailed off, her eyes flickering over to Leonard again. He stood with his back to us, oblivious, the sound of the kitchen faucet drowning out our voices.

I knew what she was implying without her saying it: if she and Leonard wanted to be together. Officially. Maybe even legally.

And she had already seen the struggles that Chris and I were going through thanks to antiquated marriage ideals.

“Ophelia…” I sat beside her, gently touching her slender shoulder. “I don’t want you to worry. Do you have feelings for him?”

She bit her lip and nodded hesitantly. “I know we only just met, but… Oh, I do. He’s so sweet, and kind, and he’s damn handsome, too.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Then we’ll figure it out,” I said. “Chris won’t let anyone get in the way of that. Don’t worry.”

Ophelia’s gaze lifted then, and she angled a disbelieving look in my direction. Instantly, I felt my heart sink a bit without her even having to say the words out loud: if Chris couldn’t even convince the Elders to allow us to marry, then what about them? A human and a werewolf, here, on our continent?

It was quite literally unheard of.

Before I could manage a response, however, not that I even knew what to say anyway, Leonard suddenly emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of wine and three glasses in his hands.

“Shall we?”

…

It was late, late enough for Ophelia and Leonard to have already dozed off in the living room, but sleep eluded me; all I could do was sit by the fire pit, watching as the red embers rose into the night sky.

Chris should have been here by now. He had promised to come after dinner, but he never showed up.

And, if I was being honest, I was disappointed.

I wanted to see him, dammit. If Ophelia and Leonard were going to be together, then I wanted to be with the man I loved as well. And… hell, I did love him. Maybe I didn’t have the nerve to say it yet, but I did. I really did.

And yet, he hadn’t shown up. He hadn’t answered my texts, either, and he had declined my calls before they even finished ringing.

Was he busy? Perhaps, but he would have at least told me he couldn’t make it. I couldn’t think of another scenario that would keep him from coming. Unless…

I sighed, shaking my head, and squinted in an attempt to make out another constellation. No, he couldn’t be upset with me. After all, why would he be? I had agreed to meet. I thought we had an understanding.

Suddenly, the sound of rustling in the bushes caused me to whip my head up. I strained my eyes against the darkness, expecting to see that damn raccoon that had been rifling through my garden lately, but saw nothing.

“Hello?” I called out, slowly standing.

More rustling—this time, heavy footsteps. Instinctively, I took a step back, reaching for the fire poker and gripping it tightly. And then—

“Chris!”

When his tall form stumbled through the hedge and materialized in my backyard, I dropped the poker, clutching my necklace. “Oh, Goddess. You almost gave me a heart attack!”

Chris just stood there, the fire casting flickering shadows on his face, and that was when I saw it: the anger in his eyes. The gentle sway in his stance. The bottle of brandy in his hands.

“Chris?” I asked, taking a step closer. “What the…”

“We need to talk,” he grumbled, taking another swig of his brandy and nearly falling on his face in the process.

My eyes widened as the realization hit me. “Chris, are you… drunk?”