92. Henri
Chapter 92
Henri
Since coming home to the Alden pack property, I haven’t left. It’s been two weeks, and I haven’t even gone so far as the back lawn. I shifted, because I had to, but even then, all the mental energy I could handle was just walking around the green space.
And I wasn’t aware of how awkward, alone, and unguarded I’ve been until we pull up to a stop at a warehouse district venue. There aren’t more people than I’ve ever seen in one place before because I’ve been to plenty of packed events. But it feels so big.
My head is swimming, and I wrap my fingers around the door handle to hold myself inside.
“What’s the soup of the day?” Deacon scrubs his hand down his face.
“Oh, I don’t know, about forty?” I answer instinctively.
“Sweet, that’s about how many I’m seeing. The wolf is working.” Deacon opens his car door just a crack. “I’m going to sound like Finn, and I don’t know that I hate it, but wait for me? ”
He indicates to the door that I’m clinging to for dear life with a soft nod.
Deacon climbs out and walks around in front of the SUV to come around to my side. It’s painful to make myself let go of the door to let him pull it open.
“I hear your heart, Hen.” Deacon puts his hand in mine in place of the door.
I squeeze, trying to meld us together into one person.
“I’m trying.” The words come out halfhearted. I should try harder.
“Would it make it easier if I told you Ezra is already inside with a security agent and ours are already behind us? Oh, and that I made Cade send Michael Tate with us.” Deacon lowers his voice and whispers, “And I think he’s a dragon shifter, but don’t tell anyone I said that. Revecca couldn’t confirm or deny it, but I didn’t get a ‘would you quit being ridiculous,’ sooo.”
I blink through the information overload, looking at Deacon again. “I’m sorry. What?”
“Ezra’s inside, our security is with us. Come on, Hen.” Deacon extends his arm, pushing the door out of the way. “You’ve gotta go inside the venue, and if you still don’t want to be here, we’ll go home.”
My wolf pushes me, so I unbuckle and then climb out of the vehicle, making me get closer to Deacon. Warm desire to nuzzle in against him runs through me, and when I do, I’m quickly comforted further by Deacon’s hand running into my hair.
“Dragon shifter?” I whisper. “That can’t be real.”
“I don’t think I’m wrong.” Deacon laughs. “Come on, we can share theories later.”
Grumbling, I let Deacon pull away. He steps back and shifts me out of the way of the door closing. Keeping an arm draped across me, he leads us, from behind, to the sidewalk and then to the building.
We’re glued together, fused tighter than I’ve ever seen Cade and Thalia. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted, but not how I thought I’d get it. Yet, when I look for sadness in the circumstance, it’s not there.
We get wristbands, and Deacon is directed up the stairs to a VIP area for before the show.
I’m winded when we reach the top, angry that my body, while pain free, is not in any better physical shape. It’s only a matter of time. Deacon promised.
Ezra is the only person up here, aside from a bartender, who’s flushed and goes wide eyed seeing us.
“He worked fast tonight,” Deacon mutters under his breath, confirming my suspicion that Ezra and the bartender were just a little busy together.
“Alright, Henri.” Ezra smiles. “What’ll it be? We go home or hang out up here all night?”
I look at the bartender and then the room around us.
“Atta girl.” Ezra laughs. “Say the word, little Grimm. We’ll carry you up and down the stairs to dance.”
“Little Grimm?” Deacon cocks a brow at him and then me. “Sure, why not.”