Page 32 of Cursed Wolfsbane

Everything. The answer’s everything.

With a quiet groan, I let my legs drop from around Malachi’s waist. He holds me to him for a moment before gently lowering me to the floor. Turning around, I head back to Nan, who has a soft smile on her face from watching my interaction with Malachi and Bastian.

When I stop next to her, she hands me the neon purple potion. I inspect it skeptically. “Are you sure I should take this when I’m definitely a wolf shifter and not a mage?”

“I’m positive, dear.”

Blowing out a breath and hoping it won’t kill me, I throw back the potion. I’m prepared for it to be gross, but it tastes weirdly like a grape slushie. I kind of want more of it. I stare down at the empty vial in confusion when nothing happens. “It’s not working.”

“It takes a couple days to kick in.”

“If you say so,” I respond skeptically.

Nan just smiles at me. “I do. It’s time for you to be on your way, dear. I have work to finish, and your aunt and uncle are expecting you.”

I give her a nod, suddenly choked up at the thought of leaving her again. Nan opens her arms, and I step into them. She hugs me tightly, and I try not to cry on her sundress. “I love you, Nan.”

“I love you, too, Briar Rose.”

Reluctantly pulling back, I step away from Nan and head over to Emmy. “Where are Aunt Molly and Uncle James wanting to meet?”

“At our house. I’ll lead the way. So, have you read any good books lately?” Emmy asks as she makes her way out of Nan’s workshop. I grin at the prospect of having someone to talk to about books again. I launch into explaining one of my favorite series.

CHAPTER 15

SAINT

“So, you’re her other mates.” I’m at a loss for what to say to the wolves. I’m not exactly a people person, at least not after my parents died. I enjoy my own company and try to avoid spending much time with others. I’m good with Nan, Emmy and the Wards, and, of course, Briar. But other than that, I want to be on my own. I work alone, live alone, and relax alone.

“Yep, we are. You gonna try to tell us to stay away from her, mage?” the blond wolf with a fading shiner asks—Bastian, if I remember correctly.

I snort. “No. I knew my little shadow would have more than one mate.” Briar followed me around everywhere when she was a kid. She was like my little shadow. It’s felt like I’ve been in perpetual darkness since she left, unable to reach the light that would let me see my little shadow again. “I also don’t have a problem with wolves. Not all mages hate other races.”

Mages tend to be pretty elitest. Most mages think they’re the pinnacle of magic users. Every supernatural species uses magic in some way. Mages use it to power spells, shifters use it to change form, fae use it to cast illusions and make bargains, and so on.

Since mages can shape the raw magical energy more than other species, a lot of mages think other races are beneath them. Because of the shitty attitude of most mages, other supernaturals aren’t a big fan of us, understandably so.

However, I was raised to respect others. Ma would probably smack me upside the head if I spewed any of that “mages are superior” crap if she were still here. We were each given different abilities to contribute uniquely to the world. Mages aren’t any better than anyone else. We’re just different.

“Good. We won’t have any problems as long as you don’t hurt Briar. If you do, death will look like a sweet escape compared to what I’ll do to you. Am I understood, mage?” the largest of Briar’s wolves, Malachi, growls at me.

My eyebrows rise up in surprise. If the wolf thinks death scares me, he’s going to be disappointed. After my parents were killed and Briar left, I went off the rails a little—or a lot. I got myself into some pretty dark stuff that took me a long time to climb back out of. The only good to come out of it is that I now have the skills to help others. “Understood, wolf. I would rather die than hurt her, so we won’t have any problems. What pack are you from?”

“The Wyldhart Pack,” the quiet blond one, Xander I think, tells me. I’m surprised he’s speaking. He hasn’t said a word since they arrived in Hawthorne Grove a couple hours ago. I don’t know what’s going on with him and Briar, but there’s obviously something. They’re both really tense around each other.

I rack my brain, trying to remember which wolfpack that is. “Shit. That’s a pretty big pack, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. The largest in North America. We’re a few thousand wolves strong.” Bastian lifts his chin with pride.

“Damn. That’s a lot of wolves. Have you guys even met your alpha?” The biggest pack around here is the Nightshade Pack. They have roughly nine hundred or so wolves. Havingthousands of wolves in a pack sounds like absolute chaos, but the Wyldharts manage to keep it pretty orderly.

Bastian laughs, and Xander’s lips twitch up slightly. Malachi grins before responding. “You could say that.”

I rub my hand over the back of my neck as I take in their reactions. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

Bastian tries to shut down his smile but can’t. “Yeah. Our dad’s the alpha, and Kai’s next in line.”

I stop in my tracks. “Jesus Christ. Really?” When I get a nod from Bastian, I let out a low whistle. That’s a massive fucking deal. The Wyldhart alpha and his sons are the most powerful wolves in this hemisphere. Even the Nightshades, who are psychotic, don’t match them in pure strength. To the best of my knowledge, only the Russians, who are also absolutely unhinged, can match the Wyldharts.

---