Page 45 of Ruined Wolfsbane

“Yes,” I breathe.

“And he’s the one who did this to you, isn’t he?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?” I ask with little hope in my voice. I don’t think there’s anything I could say to Malachi now to make him think otherwise.

“No, I wouldn’t. Why are you protecting him?” Malachi’s voice gets louder in agitation, but he’s careful not to yell at me, which I appreciate. I’m doing enough screaming at myself in my mind. I don’t need his condemnation added to it.

“She’s not protecting him, asswipe,” Bastian corrects Malachi, voice lashing out like a whip. “She’s protecting herself or someone she cares about.”

Ding, ding, ding. Five hundred points to the blond god in the passenger seat.

“Who are you protecting?” Malachi asks gently, his earlier anger having evaporated.

“Myself and Ava.” The killing me part isn’t the most persuasive. It’s the hurting Ava part that Patrick knows keeps me in line.

“What happens if someone finds out?” Malachi questions.

“Patrick will kill me, and he’ll give Ava to your dad.”

“What did he tell you our dad will do to her?” Malachi prods.

“Sell her to the highest bidder, but not before sampling the goods himself,” I say quietly, feeling sick discussing what could happen to my sister. Patrick’s a monster willing to do that to his own child. Since he won’t protect her, I will. I will do anything to keep that from happening, including killing Valentine Wyldhart with my bare hands.

“Holy fucking shit! Our dad would never, ever do that, Briar!” Bastian practically shouts, face contorted in horror.

“Our dad is many things, Briar. He’s an asshole sometimes. He can be violent to those who deserve it. He’s controlling, but he isn’t and never has been a rapist or a child molester. He’s fiercely protective of women and children,” Malachi tells me calmly before turning to look at me fully. His gaze bores into me. “Do you trust me?”

Staring into his deep blue eyes, I come to the startling realization that I do.

He lied to me about his name, but I understand why they don’t go by Wyldhart at school. The Wyldharts are celebrities around here. They’re notoriously private, so there aren’t recent pictures of the Wyldhart sons floating around. Going by a different name at school, they can be normal for a change. If anyone gets the allure of a normal life, it’s me.

“Yeah,” I respond after a pause.

“Do you trust Patrick?”

I snort. “Hell no.”

“Either Patrick is lying, or we are. Think about who you trust to give you accurate information, Briar.” Malachi’s words make me consider for the first time that Patrick might have lied.

“But why would Patrick lie about your dad?” That’s the part of this I don’t get. Why scare me away from Valentine Wyldhart?

“I don’t know, Briar. I can talk to our dad and see,” Malachi offers.

“No!” I immediately respond, my voice rising in panic. I don’t want Valentine Wyldhart hearing anything about my sister, even if he isn’t as bad as Patrick says he is.

“Okay. I won’t talk to him.” For once, Malachi doesn’t push me to do as he suggested.

“You okay, sweet girl?” Bastian asks quietly after I’ve been silent for a few minutes.

At his question, the hysterical laugh finally makes its way out of my mouth. “No.”

“Yeah, dumb question. Sorry.” Bastian’s tone is apologetic as he rubs a hand on the back of his head sheepishly.

I force a small smile to reassure him. It quickly drops when we pull through the tall, wrought iron gates of the Wyldhart Mansion. Their house is an enormous red brick structure with creeping ivy, white columns, and tall chimneys dotting the slate roof. It’s almost identical to the Wynters’ house, which makes sense since Ronan and Rory are the Wyldharts’ cousins.

Jesus wept. I really am clueless.

I should have figured out they were the Wyldharts sooner than I did. I really only have my oblivious self to blame being blindsided by their revelation. Shaking my head at myself, I ask, “Is your father home?”

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