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Her wolf whimpered. She eyed the door, the heavy bolt. Beyond it lay reprieve. All she had to do was shift back, slide the lock open and leave.
Aubert crossed his arms, unyielding as a mountain. “You will keep trying until you succeed.”
But she never would succeed. Not really. Because, for whatever reason, Aubert didn’t like her. Trying to change his mind was as futile as her efforts had been to reignite the passion in her relationship with Douglas when it’d been obvious he’d checked out long ago.
Isobella shifted back. She’d worked so hard back then, trying to be the fiancée Douglas wanted. Bent over backward for him. Made excuses. He worked long hours. They didn’t spend enough time together. She wasn’t understanding or accommodating enough. She was asking for too much. Tears pricked her eyes. Trying to be enough yet never prevailing.
“We have no use for a she-wolf who cannot maintain control.”
Isobella swiped her eyes with the back of her hand and picked up her chemise. She was done begging for scraps. “I understand I must learn to control my wolf. That it’s important for my safety, and for everyone else.” She pulled her chemise over her head. “I get it. You don’t like me, but I have worked my ass off for you.” She fought to control the tremor in her voice as she snatched up her underdress. “I have shifted backward and forward.” She slipped it over her head, shoving her arms in the sleeves. “Faster, smoother, slower, one limb at a time.”
She fumbled with the embroidered overdress, with the laces.
Come on, come on. She had to get out of this room. Now. She couldn’t let him see her cry. “I have stood naked and vulnerable while you…you frown at me and yell orders. Again. More. Nothing pleases you. Not a single ‘well done’ or ‘good job, Isobella’.” She scooped up her boots. He hadn’t moved. Her shoulders slumped. Was he even listening to her? “You know, Aubert, I would’ve been happy with a hint of a smile, but… Never mind.” He probably wasn’t capable of smiling. At least not for her.
Isobella forced her weary legs to the door, slid the bolt back and pried the door open. A hand thumped into the timber above her head, slamming it shut. He spun her around and pinned her to the door. Aubert glared down at her, hemming her in with his big body, and traitor that it was, it responded to him. Because it remembered Edmond’s kiss? Because it wanted Edmond? She couldn’t possibly want a man who hated her. That didn’t make any sense.
Isobella refused to look at him. She needed to leave before he commanded her to get back to training and shift again. Because she’d do it. She knew she would. She was no Annabelle. No Stef. Isobella didn’t challenge those stronger than her. She was a good person. Kind, considerate, and oh so weak.
Always the people pleaser.
Tears spilled down her cheeks. “I’m sorry.” She brushed them away. “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. At least, I think it has. It’s kind of hard to tell in this room.”
A gentle hand hooked a finger under her chin. She couldn’t bear to look at him, to see the disapproval in his eyes. She was supposed to be a werewolf, for goodness’ sake. Werewolves didn’t cry or get tired or want to give up. They didn’t let people push them around and treat them like shit, that’s for sure.
“Look at me, Isobella.”
She couldn’t help herself. She did as he asked. Brown eyes stared down at her, full of anguish, not anger. Then his expression cleared, and with what appeared to be enormous effort, Aubert’s lips curled up at the corners in a semblance of a smile.
