Page 36 of Ruined Wolfsbane

Pushing open the door, I reluctantly step into his office. I’m startled to see not just Malachi there but Sebastian and Xander, too. I immediately notice how ragged they all look.

Malachi is sitting on the coffee table with his forearms on his knees. His hands are clasped in front of him, and his head is bowed. He lifts his head as I walk into the office, dark blue eyes fixing on me.

Sebastian is sprawled in one of the chairs. His elbows are on his thighs, with the heels of his hands pressing into his eyes. Lowering his hands, he also looks my way as I walk in. He’s wearing a crisp white dress shirt and black slacks, instead of his usual tee and jeans.

While Xander looks the most put together, his hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it nonstop. His blond hair is sticking up at odd angles, and he has dark circles under his eyes. He, too, stares at me as I walk in.

They look like they had almost as rough a night as I did. Biting my lip, I hover at the threshold of the office, unsure what to do.

“Shut the door, Briar,” Malachi orders in a silky, dangerous tone.

Part of me wants to turn and run. I can feel the danger simmering in the air. The hairs on the back of my neck are prickling in warning. While I know none of them will hurt me, I’m still instinctually on edge. The other part wants to do anything I can to comfort the Grimm brothers—like giving them a hug or offering to kill their enemies.

You know, normal stuff.

What has them so upset?

Malachi opens his mouth, likely to demand I do as he says. Before he can, I reach behind me and push the door closed. It softly snicks shut, but the sound echoes in the unnaturally still office. “Sit,” Malachi tells me, nodding to the couch opposite him and his brothers.

Taking a fortifying breath, I try to walk normally to the sofa. I know I hobble a little, but it’s the best me and my shaking muscles can do. As I walk, I try to formulate a plan to sit on the absurdly low-to-the-ground sofa. Okay, maybe it’s not that low, but it’s short enough that I’m going to be on the struggle bus trying to sit.

When I reach the couch, I still don’t have a plan.

I guess we’re doing this the old-fashioned way. Sheer determination.

Steeling myself, I slowly lower myself to the couch. By the time my ass finally touches the smooth leather, my breath is coming in short pants. Each inhale sends jagged flares of pain into my side. I try to blank my face. By the increasingly thunderous expression on Malachi’s face, he isn’t fooled.

“Where were you yesterday?” he demands.

Straight to the point, I see—the point I’d really like to avoid talking about. “I thought I was here to make up participation points.”

“Answer the question, Briar.” Malachi’s tone almost dares me to make him ask again, but I’m in no shape to go toe-to-toe with him.

I sigh. “I was sick.”

He tilts his head, assessing me. Malachi doesn’t seem to be buying that I was sick, making me panic a little. He can’t find out what really happened. “With what?” he finally asks.

My mind blanks at his question. I hadn’t thought far enough ahead to prepare an excuse for him. I say the first thing that I think of. “Tuberculosis,” I blurt, and I immediately want to smack myself.

Tuberculosis? Really? That was the best I could come up with?

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Tuberculosis,” Malachi repeats slowly, like he can’t believe I just said that. Join the club, dude. “What are the symptoms of tuberculosis?”

That’s an excellent question, one I don’t know the answer to. “Pain and death?”

I totally nailed it. Not.

Malachi closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose, like he’s praying for patience to deal with me. When he opens his eyes, they’re almost black with swirling emotion. “Try again, Briar,” Malachi growls. “Think very fucking carefully before lying to me again.”

It’s my turn to close my eyes, trying to think of a way out of this. There’s no way I can tell them I was passed out from being beaten within an inch of my life. I don’t particularly want Patrick to beat me that final inch and finish the job.

I’m all out of ideas.

I’m exhausted, I’m in pain, and I just want to lie in my bed and sleep. What I don’t want to do is sit here being interrogated by Malachi. My only option is to leave and hope he doesn’t bring it up another day. There’s little chance of me outrunning Malachi in my current state, but I have to try. I don’t know what else to do.

Hoping to take him by surprise, I try to move suddenly. Snapping open my eyes, I make a break for it, albeit slower than usual.

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