Kenny jumped into action, and Silas pulled her into his arms as soon as she was free. The bedroom had a loveseat, and he walked to it and sat with her, cradling her to his chest.
“I have you. Let it out. You’re good. Crying’s good. Whatever it takes. I have you.”
He heard Boone in the shower, saw Kenny return with a washcloth, but he shook his head and telepathed,Not yet. She needs the tears. Do we want to put her in a lukewarm tub to soak, or take her to the hot tub?
If we had Epsom salts, the bathtub, but since we don’t, the hot tub can work, and the view outside might calm her inner hawk, and that’ll help the woman find her center again.
The level of grief coming from her was intense, but Silas could sense when she worked through whatever was twisting in her head, exhaustion taking over.
When her tears slowed, he stood with her, walked through the door to the balcony when Kenny opened it, and climbed into the tub with her still in his arms. Kenny got in, took her from him, and settled onto one of the chairs, careful to keep her head above water.
Boone took the lounger, and Silas sat in another seat.
“You want to talk about it?” Kenny asked, his voice that same quiet calm they’d all come to respect.
A deep, cleansing breath, and her voice was surprisingly steady. “I’m not sure there’s anything to talk about. I was an idiot, staying in a vanilla relationship so long, ignoring my needs.”
She snuggled into him. “Boone was right. I’d have been pissed if I’d safeworded out of that. My asshole fucking hurts, but it’s…” She shook her head and met Boone’s gaze. “It’s how a well-used sex toy is supposed to feel.”
He smiled. “It is.”
* * * *
Kenny held her a good thirty minutes, mostly in silence at first, but Silas eventually mentioned food, so the conversation drifted toward his meal plan — burgers with parmesan, mozzarellaandSwiss cheese, bacon, and mushrooms sautéed in the bacon grease.
Willow said she’d fry potatoes, and Silas had a few other sides planned, and then conversation kind of went all over the place.
She knew Kenny ran the construction company, asked what the others did, wasn’t at all surprised Silas owns a restaurant, and said she could easily see Boone running a backhoe.
She told them she’s a traveling nurse, explained how it worked, and that she’d gotten into the routine of working one week per month, and having the other three weeks to be arm candy to her ex. Her schedule was set until January unless someone had an emergency hole to fill, and she hadn’t decided how to work her schedule the following year.
Boone stretched out on the lounger seat and played footsie with her, Silas sat so he could see her face, and Kenny knew his beta was more in tune with her emotionally than the rest of them.
Which was fine.
They all had their strengths, and figuring those out was part of the purpose for the weekend.
Kenny was good at helping wolves with emotional shit once he realized there was a problem, but Silas noticed the problem first, most times.
Watching Silas read her emotional needs while Boone handled her physical limits had been like seeing his leadership structure in action. They’d moved around each other without conflict, each filling the role they were best suited for.
The alpha is therapist, mediator, rule maker, rule enforcer, and the general boss of everyone and everything. A pack is a dictatorship and not even close to democratic, and yet, the healthy ones are run by a benevolent dictator. He’d learned that from Randall, and he could see it in Cora now.
It also meant leaning on your top people though, and he was pleased to have these two men in those spots.
He was glad Silas had known to hold her and just let her cry.
Part of him wanted to be the one she turned to when she needed arms of safety, but with three men, he couldn’t be hereverything. And logistically, with all the demands of running the pack and the construction company, he’d figured out he couldn’t do everything himself. That’s what this weekend was about — helping him feel comfortable leaning on his beta and gamma, and getting them more comfortable with calling him on his bullshit.
Randall hadn’t brought a bunch of yes-men around to be his advisors. He’d wanted actual advice. Once he’d made up his mind, the subject was closed, but they’d all felt comfortable debating issues with him while he was in the process of deciding.
When he felt Willow getting restless, he asked, “Ready to get out?”
“Yeah. This is nice, but Silas was probably right about the food.”
“Silas is nearly always right about food,” Kenny said. “Let’s get you dried off and then my final bossy act before we go back to being equals, I need to examine every square inch of your body.”
She met his gaze, considered arguing, but nodded. “Yeah. Okay. It isn’t an unreasonable demand. We’re already out of power exchange, but I get it. You feel responsible.”
