There was a path on the side that led around, so I followed it.
Stella was sitting on a stool in front of a half-painted canvas, and Abby was sprawled out on the couch next to her with a book in her hands.
“I thought you’d be with your mates,” I admitted.
“They have to work for a few hours this afternoon.” Abby waved me over.
I walked to the couch, semi-reluctantly.
“How are things?” Stella asked me.
I bit my lower lip, scraping my mind for an answer that didn’t actually tell them what was going on. I didn’t think Ethan cared to keep it private, but still.
“Okay,” I finally said.
“Ethan didn’t take the news about Dr. Ben very well?” Abby checked.
I grimaced.
“Threatened to kill him, huh?” Stella asked knowingly. “Graham isn’t very violent, but he said the same thing when I told him about the situation this morning.”
Of course they were talking about the subjects that had come up while we were on the girls’ trip. We usually did stuff like that too. Me and Ethan.
“Murder was definitely mentioned,” I said.
“The guy kind of deserves it,” Abby remarked.
Stella lifted her paint brush to her canvas. “You’ve been mated to a werewolf too long.”
“Probably.” Abby didn’t deny it.
“There’s a bigger problem.” I pulled my legs up to my chest, glad the cushion was already dusted with dirt so no one would care that my feet were a mess. “Ethan’s wolf is getting worse. He doesn’t think he’ll last more than another month or two before the wolf takes over.”
“Fuck. I’m sorry.” Stella set her paintbrush down. “What can we do?”
“Nothing. The only thing that will stop it is if we seal the mate bond. I offered, last night. He turned me down.”
“What?” Abby sat up abruptly, closing her book. “Do we need to killhim?”
“What was the reasoning?” Stella checked.
“He knows I don’t want a mate and doesn’t want to force me.”
Abby relaxed slightly. “Oh. Well, we can’t kill him for that.”
“No.” Stella shook her head lightly. “What are you going to do?”
“I don’t know. I threatened to take the glasses off and trap him, but that’s obviously not going to happen.”
“You wouldn’t,” Abby agreed.
“Not unless he was actively dying. I just need to try to talk myself into wanting a mate bond. Or at least not being so fucking afraid of it.”
“Well, what part of it are you afraid of?” Abby asked.
“The permanence. Another abusive relationship. Putting someone else in a position of power over me.”
“Notsomeone,” she corrected. “Ethan.”
