Page 63 of Cursed Wolfsbane

When he finishes, he meets my slightly confused gaze. “Um, thanks.” I’ve never had anyone take care of me after sex. It was usually just a quick transactional experience, one that I was eager to leave afterward.

One side of his mouth hitches up in a smile. “Always, baby girl. I’ll always take care of you.” After pushing up from the bed, Malachi heads over to my backpack and grabs a cozy forest green sweatshirt, my comfiest leggings, warm socks, and underwear for me. He lays them all on the bed before rifling through his own duffle.

A lump forms in my throat at his thoughtfulness. He chose all my most comforting clothes. After everything today, I need all the comfort I can get. I quickly pull everything on before combing my fingers through my hair. There’s not much I can do about its ratty state after our rushed shower, so I just pull it back into a simple braid.

Once Malachi’s dressed in jeans and a black tee, he holds out his hand for me. I walk over to him and place my warm palm in his. He stares at me intently for a long moment before scrubbing his other hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Briar.”

My stomach bottoms out, wondering if he regrets fucking me. “For what?” I’m proud that my voice, while quiet, doesn’t sound as shaky as I feel.

His forehead wrinkles in confusion as he notes the way my body curls in on itself protectively. “For yelling at you,” Malachi tells me carefully.

“Oh.” I look down as my cheeks flush. I don’t want him to see the insecurity I’m sure is written all over my face.

“What did you think I was apologizing for?”

“Nothing,” I reply quickly, probably a little too quickly.

He cocks an eyebrow. “Wanna try that again, baby girl? I don’t give a fuck that your mage is right outside. I’ll turn your ass red in a heartbeat if you keep lying to me.”

I choke on my spit in surprise at his threat. The fucked-up part of me perks up at that prospect, but I squash it down. Now is so not the time to be getting turned on by the idea of him spanking me. “I thought that was for when I needed pain?”

“It can be.” Malachi pulls me into his front, his hands settling on the small of my back. This position forces me to tilt my head back to look up at him. “But it can also be a punishment when you’re a brat and don’t listen, lie to me, or put yourself in danger.”

“I’m not a brat,” I grumble.

He snorts. “You definitely are, but I like it. I like that you talk back to me. I like that you aren’t afraid to tell me when you think I’m wrong. I like that you give as good as you get.”

My lips part in shock. “I thought you hated that I don’t listen.” I figured my stubbornness was more of a thorn in his side than anything.

“Only when it puts you in danger, but you’ll be hard pressed to find something I don’t like about you, Briar.”

I scoff. “I’m sure there are plenty of things you dislike about me. I’m awkward. I often say the wrong thing. I’m closed off. I have a hard time trusting. I don’t always think through my actions?—”

“Baby girl, stop,” Malachi interrupts, cutting me off midsentence. “Your awkwardness is endearing. Yes, you’re closed off, but it only makes it that much more rewarding when you share a part of yourself with me. Ditto for trusting me. And none of us always think through our actions. That’s part of being human. We all fuck up sometimes. All we can do is learn from it. If you really want to keep listing things, I can keep telling you why you’re wrong all night, if that’s what it takes.”

A startled laugh bursts out of me. Even when he’s being sweet, he can’t seem to help being bossy. “We don’t need to do this all night. It’s just hard to believe, I guess. I’m used to only being told how I fuck up everything, at least since my mom died.” I press my lips together, trying to stuff back down all the emotion that wants to bubble up. The grief at my parents’ deaths, the rage at the senselessness of it all, and the disbelief that Patrick’s actually gone.

Malachi grinds his teeth together, anger flashing quickly over his features before he shakes his head slightly. When he focuses back on me, he vows, “I’ll spend the rest of my life telling you just how amazing you are, if that’s what you need to start believing it. Because it’s the truth. Now, will you tell me what you thought I was apologizing for?”

I glance at down at his chest before mumbling, “I thought you were saying sleeping with me was a mistake.”

“What? No! Fucking you was sure as hell not a mistake.” When I don’t look up at him, he tilts my chin up with his thumb. He waits until my gaze is locked with his sincere one before continuing. “I’ve never come harder in my entire life, and I’ve never felt closer to someone else before. I’m currently restraining myself from taking you again because I have the feeling Saint needs to talk to you.”

My mouth pops open in surprise, and my thighs clench in anticipation.No, bad Briar.I do not need any more sex tonight.I’m already going to be sore tomorrow, and we have so much to do as it is. Malachi’s also right. I do need to talk with Saint. Before we head out there, I ask, “Why didn’t you mark me?”

“You didn’t explicitly tell me you wanted it.” He shrugs like that should be obvious to me. “I refuse to take away your choice like that. While I’m not the type of man that will ever let you go, I am the type to respect you and wait until you’re one hundred percent on board. When we do complete the mating bond, you’ll be begging for my bite, I can promise you that.”

“Oh,” I squeak, not really sure what to say to that.

Malachi’s mouth curves up into a satisfied smile before he snags my hand once more. He leads me out of the room and into the living area. Saint’s standing in front of the wall of windows, staring out at the city lights.

“Go talk to him,” Malachi whispers as we come to a stop near one of the sofas. I hesitate, unsure what to do. I don’t know if Saint’s angry or even wants to talk to me. I look up at Malachi for reassurance. He gives me a soft smile and presses a kiss to my forehead. “It’ll be fine. Just talk to him.”

Giving Malachi a small nod, I pad across the living room to stand next to Saint. He changed out of his dirty clothes into a white thermal and gray sweatpants. He doesn’t look at me when I step up next to him. I sigh. “I’m sorry, Saint.”

Saint startles at my words, glancing over at me like he has no clue that I was right next to him. His brows dip down in confusion. “For what?”

“Everything,” I whisper, unable to force my voice to sound normal. I hate that I made Saint upset, both in the alley and when he walked in earlier. I have no idea how to navigate my relationship with the four of them. It feels impossible to keep everything even all the time, and I don’t want to make anyone feel left out.

---