Page 43 of Ruined Wolfsbane

He stops a few inches away from me, stopping short of crowding me like he normally does. “I’m so sorry about yelling at you, Briar. My behavior was inexcusable. Please forgive me.” His sad gaze peers down at me the entire time he speaks. I can see the sincerity and regret shining in his midnight ocean eyes.

“I forgave you as soon as it happened, Malachi.” My fight-or-flight response activated at his angry voice. I wasn’t ever mad at him or truly scared. I was just spooked.

At my words, his warm arms band around me and crush me to his chest. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. I savor the feeling of complete and utter safety that I have in his arms, until he reluctantly lets me go.

“You can keep holding her, Kai. I’m going to put the cream on her back first,” Bastian tells Malachi as he steps up behind me. Malachi places his hand on the back of my head and smushes my face to his chest. My laugh is muffled by his shirt.

Bastian rubs cold, gooey gel on my back without warning. “Shit! That’s cold!” I exclaim as I jump in surprise.

Both of them chuckle at my expense. I’d glare at them if I could move my head. After a few minutes, Bastian’s completely covered my front and back. I don’t feel any different, other than a little slimy from the arnica’s gelatinous consistency. Hopefully it will do its thing quickly. I’m already sick of being tender and sore all over.

“Am I good to get dressed now?” I ask as Malachi lets me go.

“Unfortunately, yeah.” Bastian pouts. I grin at his antics, even though I know there’s no way he can enjoy staring at me in my underwear right now. I don’t particularly want to look at my black-and-blue torso, and it’s my body.

I make quick work of putting my clothes back on—or as quick as I can with my stiff muscles. I don’t want someone else to walk in while I’m undressed. My arms don’t want to bend behind me to put on my button-up. After a few moments, I finally get my uniform shirt back on.

“I guess I should head home?” I ask hesitantly when I finish dressing.

Malachi’s gaze snaps to mine as he rumbles out, “Not a chance, baby girl. You’re not going home to an unsafe situation.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go, Malachi.” My voice is quiet as I think about how few people I have in my life.

“You’re coming home with us.”

“What?” I squeak.

“If you can convince me you’re safe at home, you can go. Otherwise, pack your shit and let’s go.”

I can’t convince him because I’m not safe at home. In my current state, I’m not sure I’ll survive another beating tonight. Spending the night with the Grimm brothers is probably safer.

Although, I don’t know them well enough to be one hundred percent positive they won’t murder me and dump my body in a shallow grave. Or a deep grave. They seem like the type to be thorough when burying bodies. I wouldn’t want to get myself offed by a mediocre killer. That would just be embarrassing.

Even with the small chance that they’re serial killers, I’m still a ton safer with them than with Patrick. They might kill me. Patrick will kill me. It’s just a matter of when. And tonight might be the night if I piss him off again.

Decision made, I quietly pack up my bag and turn to Malachi. He raises his eyebrows at me. I fidget for a minute, before asking, “What?”

“I expected more of a fight.”

“I mentally calculated the odds of getting murdered by you or at home. You won, by a small margin,” I add to antagonize him. I don’t know why I love pushing his buttons, but I do. Immensely.

Malachi huffs in irritation but doesn’t rise to the bait, choosing instead to pack up things at his desk.

Bastian, however, laughs in surprise. “Your mind sounds like an interesting place. I’d love to be a fly on the wall for your mental conversations.”

I snort. “My head is a messy and chaotic place.” Not to mention depressing. “Trust me. You’re lucky you’re not in it.”

Bastian’s eyes fill with understanding and sympathy. I wonder if his mind is filled with boxes of memories and emotions that are too painful to look at.

Unused to anyone seeing so much of my feelings, I look away, breaking eye contact with him. When I look back after a few seconds, Bastian’s pulling on his undershirt. He throws on his dress shirt but doesn’t bother buttoning it.

“Everyone ready to go?” Malachi asks as he surveys us, gaze lingering on me.

“I need to grab my bag. Then I’m ready to blow this popsicle stand.” Bastian practically sprints out of Malachi’s office. He returns a few minutes later with a packed bag, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Malachi puts his hand gently on my back to steer me out the door and down to the faculty parking lot.

CHAPTER 19

---