Bertha's POV
Ford yanking against the chain he's bound with pulls my attention back to him. He’s trying to squirm free from the chair again, a stupid, futile act. My patience wears thin.
“Stop it,” I growl, my claws protruding from beneath my fingertips. “You keep pulling at that chair, and I swear, I’ll have you turned into a werewolf.”
Ford stops struggling against his restraint, his eyes flicking toward me. He’s got that defiant, somewhat contemplative look on his face.
“It’s only a matter of time before people start looking for me,” he sneers, but there’s a flicker of uncertainty in his voice. “Let me go.”
I step closer, my gaze hardening. “Let me make something clear. You’re not going anywhere until we figure out how to clean up your mess. And if you keep poking the wolf in me, y
