Ryan nods, silent. He wants to ask more, but now is not the time, not when the werewolf is howling outside.

"I've splintered my psyche," he says instead, realizing that she must be psychic and that's how they're in his head. He's not happy about that, but he'll worry about it later.

"How do I repair it? Don't tell me I have to kill that thing because I've already told you it can't be done. Not without silver."