Page 48 of Cursed Wolfsbane

A lump forms in my throat thinking about Mama’s letter. “We need to go to Paris,” I croak, unable to force more words out. Looking away from Malachi’s too knowing gaze, I grab the letter and hand it to him.

Pushing up from the chair, I busy myself with putting the books away as they each look over the letter. I’m kneeling on the ground picking up the last of the books when Malachi crouches down next to me. “How are you doing?” he whispers.

“Fine,” I rasp, while studiously avoiding looking at him.

“You should know better than to lie to me by now, baby girl.” Malachi’s tone holds a note of warning that sends a shiver up my spine.

I clench my jaw and stare blankly at the book in my hands. “We don’t have time for me to be anything other than fine.”

“Says who?” he presses.

“Says everyone!” I hiss in frustration. “You read the letter. You know that I have to somehow pull the solution to athousand-year-old problem out of my ass. The future of an entire fucking species rests on my shoulders. There’s no time to be overwhelmed or uncertain or wondering how the hell I’m going to do this. I just have to get over it and fix the problem.”

Malachi growls softly before capturing my chin with his hand. He turns my head so I’m looking at him. “I don’t give a fuck about the species, Briar. All I care about is you. And it is okay to be overwhelmed and uncertain. That’s a huge task to undertake. Anyone would be struggling in your position. Female wolves haven’t been able to shift for a thousand years. The wolf shifter species will be fine for however long it takes you to find the answers. If you never do or decide you don’t want to, that’s okay too.”

I’m already shaking my head before he finishes. “I can’t just ignore the issue because it’s inconvenient for me.”

“I know. You’re not the type of person who can ignore other people’s suffering. But you aren’t going to find the answers by pushing yourself until you break. Right now, all we even know is that we have to go to Paris. So, let’s just focus on that one task for now. Sound good?” Malachi waits for my small nod before swooping in for a hard and fast kiss that leaves me dazed.

When he pulls back, I just blink at him in confusion. His mouth kicks up in a smirk, and he takes the book from my hand. “Go practice your magic with the mage. I’ll handle cleaning the rest of this up.”

CHAPTER 22

BRIAR

“This is fucking pointless, Saint!” I shout in frustration. It’s been two days of practicing my magic, and I can’t make anything happen. No matter how hard I try, the little flame in my chest doesn’t do anything. No amount of coaxing, pleading, threatening, yelling, or anything makes my magic come out again. I’d think I didn’t have magic if it weren’t for the snow in my dad’s office on Sunday.

“Briar—” he starts from where he’s leaning against the towering elm tree in my backyard. The winter grass crunches as I shift from foot to foot. All the trees in the forest out back are bare, making the backyard feel dreary.

Or that could be my depressing lack of progress making everything feel gloomy, but who really knows. Even the upbeat song, “Stargazing” by Myles Smith, that’s currently playing doesn’t lift my mood when I can’t even do basic spells after days of trying.

Saint looks too good for a random Tuesday afternoon in his charcoal henley and dark jeans. With his sleeves pushed up, I get a glimpse of some of his tattoos. I still haven’t had a chanceto ask about the animals on one of his sleeves, but I do stare at them in fascination any chance I get.

Bastian’s sitting on the stairs of the wraparound porch watching us practice. Malachi and Xander are finishing up the last preparations for our trip to Paris.

We’ve been staying at Saint’s place but coming back here to search for any other clues. All we’ve found is an address to what I hope is the library, but for all I know, it could be to a hole-in-the-wall creperie or a secret entrance to the catacombs. Guess we’ll figure it out when we get there.

“Don’t ‘Briar’ me!” I face Saint with my hands on my hips. “Nothing’s happening. Maybe the magic snowstorm was just a fluke.”

“Am I allowed to finish what I was saying?” Saint asks with an arched brow.

Sighing, I nod.

“It’s been two days, little shadow. No one, other than you, expected you to have anything mastered in the span of a few days. Learning how to use magic takes time.”

“I’m not looking to have anything mastered. I just want it to do something, anything. How am I supposed to fulfill the stupid prophecy without magic?” I throw my hands up in frustration before scrubbing them over my face. I’m drained from trying to get my magic to work, but I can’t quit now.

“You will get it.” Saint walks over to me and places his hands on my waist. I resist the urge to lean into him because I have work to do. “As I said, it just takes time. Pushing yourself to learn everything in a few days doesn’t do anything other than stress you out. I think we should call it for the day.”

“No. Absolutely not. We’re leaving this afternoon. I need to know how to do the basics by then.” Luckily, the Wyldharts and I have the same schedule. We’re free to take a random trip to Paris because it’s still winter break.

Saint does some sort of freelance work, so he’s available too. He’s been pretty evasive about what it is that he does, which only makes me more curious. I have a ton of questions for Saint, but I haven’t had the opportunity to ask any of them. I feel like I’ve been running around constantly for the past few days.

“Pretty girl, you’ve been out here for six hours already. Why don’t we at least take a break?” Bastian calls from his spot on the porch. He pushes to his feet and ambles toward me when I look over at him. I don’t know how he isn’t freezing in his leather jacket, navy tee, and dark jeans. I’m in my peacoat, olive green sweater, jeans, and boots and still a little chilly.

It doesn’t matter how long I’ve been out here when I haven’t been able to do anything. “I’ll take a break when I accomplish something.”

“Briar, you’re done.” Saint’s sharp tone brooks no argument.

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