Page 43 of Freed Wolfsbane

“So, should we go to Hawthorne Grove to see if Nan knows what the potion is?” Excitement bubbles up at the prospect of leaving the Wyldhart house. While I’m so thankful to be back, I’m ready to get out and start helping with mission Find Ryker and Kick His Ass.

Shrugging, Saint shoves his hands in his pockets and slouches against the table. “Sure. I don’t have anything else to do.”

Looking at Malachi expectantly, I wait for him to protest. He doesn’t. Instead, he just sighs. “I can’t go with you because I need to work on this entry. I know you can protect yourself, but please, don’t take any unnecessary risks.”

I’m pretty sure my eyebrows hit my hairline with how surprised I am. “Who are you and what have you done with Malachi?”

He huffs a laugh. “I can’t expect you to listen to me when I tell you to stop putting yourself in danger constantly if I’m unwilling to listen to what you tell me. If you say you feel well enough to go, I’m going to take you at your word. If you’re lying to me, well, that’s another story.”

His eyes darken at his threat or promise, and I swallow hard as a flash of fear and excitement runs through me. While part of me wants to push him and see what punishment I would get this time, a larger part of me wants to see what the potion could be.

I’m sure it won’t be long before I do something that pisses him off enough to punish me, so it’s not like I won’t get another chance to see what he’ll do.

Blowing out a breath, I nod. “I promise we’ll be safe. We’ll be so fast you won’t even have time to worry about or miss me.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I always miss you whenever you’re not with me, baby girl. Go with your mage before my wolf convinces me to change my mind.”

Unsure whether he’s joking or being dead serious, I turn to Saint expectantly. He has a small smile playing across his lips at my interaction with Malachi. Muttering “Aperire,” Saint opens a portal ringed in his telltale red magic.

Grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair, Saint tucks the parchment and his notes carefully in an internal pocket. I didn’t think to bring anything with me, so my chunky knit light blue sweater will have to do. Luckily, we can portal pretty much right to Nan’s house, so I shouldn’t get too cold.

He steps through. I move to follow him but hesitate. Glancing back over my shoulder, I lock eyes with Malachi who’s watching intently. “I love you.”

His mouth curves up in a genuine smile that softens his harsh features and makes him look almost boyish. “Love you too, baby girl.”

With a last look at him, I step through. My feet crunch on brown grass, and a bitter winter wind whips through my hair when I exit the portal. Glancing around, I realize we’re in front of Nan’s house.

The white gothic-inspired structure with its gingerbread trim is familiar this time around, unlike when we came to get my memories back. That feels like a lifetime ago, despite only being a month or so ago. Now that I think about it, I have zero clue what day it is.

“Hey, Saint?” I ask as I stare up at the twin brick chimneys and the symmetrical dormers on the gray roof.

“Yeah?”

“What’s today’s date?”

Saint doesn’t say anything for a long moment. I look over at him to see him staring at me with a mixture of grief, regret, and anger. “It’s January ninth.”

My lips part in surprise. “I missed Christmas and New Year’s.”

It was so hard to keep track of the days in the Knights facility. Everything just blurred together, but I didn’t think I was in there for anywhere near the two weeks my quick mental math says it must’ve been.

Even though we visited the church right before Christmas, I hadn’t given much thought to the fact that I had to spend one of Ava’s favorite holidays away from her.

When we lived with Patrick, we didn’t have money to give each other gifts, buy a fancy tree, or hang up many decorations. But we did spend the whole day together. We watched cheesy Christmas movies, made my mom’s world-class cinnamon roll recipe, and ate enough to make ourselves sick. Patrick was always gone over Christmas, so it was one of the few guaranteed times I didn’t have to worry about him.

A lump forms in my throat at spending the first Christmas away from Ava since she was born. I was also looking forward to starting new traditions with my mates. I didn’t get to do any of that because of the Knights and their fucking vendetta against me.

“Yeah,” he whispers, his eyes pinched with sorrow at the corners.

“I’m sorry,” I choke out, feeling responsible for bringing him down. And, if I’m being honest, I know I’m partially responsible for what happened. I didn’t ask to get kidnapped, but I did make the choice to try to solve the problem by myself.

He blows out a breath and slings an arm around my shoulders. “It’s not your fault.” When I open my mouth to argue, he raises a brow at me. I snap it shut to let him finish. “There’s no one to blame but the Knights. They’re the ones that have been hunting you since you were born. Not you.”

I look down at the ground to avoid his gaze. “I still made the decision to go with them, Saint.”

“Yeah, you did.” Saint’s voice isn’t angry or disappointed or chastising. His calm tone causes my gaze to snap to his in shock. All I see on his face is understanding mixed with sadness. “And I can’t say that was the right choice, but you did what you thought was best in the moment. All you can do is take what you learned and try to do better going forward. That doesn’t make getting kidnapped your fault.”

“Yeah,” I breathe. While I’m not sure I believe him that I’m not at fault, I do know that dwelling on the past doesn’t change anything. The only thing I can do is learn from my mistakes and make different choices going forward.

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