Page 47 of Freed Wolfsbane

I follow him into the kitchen, my steps almost silent against the white oak floors. “How did you start working at Elemental, anyway? And is that what you do for a job?”

“It’s… a long story,” he answers evasively while avoiding eye contact as he stalks over to the windows and peers outside. I assume he doesn’t find anything, because he returns to inspecting the living and dining rooms.

I lean my hip against the marble countertop. “We have time, but you never have to tell me anything you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you.” Saint looks away as he fidgets with the sleeve of his white long-sleeve tee. “I’m just embarrassed, I guess. I did shit I regret in the many years you were gone, and I don’t want you to view me differently because of it.”

“Oh, Saint.” I stride over to where he is. When I reach him, I wrap my arms around him from behind and rest my head on his back. “There’s nothing you could tell me that would make me see you or love you any differently, okay?”

“Love, huh?” He spins around so he can face me and cups his hands around my hips. His mouth quirks up in a smug grin.

I can’t help my smile at how pleased he seems. It makes him look so much like the boy who was always so proud to do a cool basketball trick, one-up his friends on his skateboard, or even just make me laugh. “Yep. I meant it when I said I love you.”

His gray eyes, which usually look like storm clouds, soften as he leans down to rest his forehead against mine. “And I love you, little shadow. More than I’ll ever be able to tell you.” He then presses his lips against mine in a kiss so sweet it makes me ache. It doesn’t last more than a few moments, but I’m dazed when he pulls away. “Wanna walk with me through the house?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

Saint is quiet as our sock-covered feet pad across his living room. He leads the way up the light oak staircase and down the hall of bedrooms. Pushing open the door to one of the guest bedrooms, he steps inside while I hang out in the threshold. After quickly looking in the closet and attached bathroom, Saint heads back out to the hall and repeats the process for the other four guest bedrooms. He then grabs my hand and leads me into his bedroom.

When we step inside, I smile at his comforter with chunky black-and-red-color blocking, his deep red walls, and the black rug underneath his bed. His bedroom looks like a grown-up version of the one he had when he was a kid.

I get lost in the memories as I look around at the black-and-white photographs he has on every wall. They’re snaps of Saint with his parents, the two of us, and our families together. Each picture is filled with a laughter that’s contagious enough to make me smile, even if some of the memories hurt to look back on.

After inspecting the bathroom, closet, and even under the bed, Saint takes his time making sure the room is all good. He then gently pushes me toward the large bed that dominates the room. I hesitantly sit down on the edge, unsure if he wants my street clothes all over his clean comforter.

It’s apparently not a problem because he runs and leaps at the mattress, flopping on his back in the middle. I crawl up the bed and settle on my side pressed up against him. When his arm wraps around me and crushes me to him, I lay my head on his chest. I’m almost lulled to sleep by the steady beat of his heart under my ear.

“After Ma and Da died and you left, I was angry all the time, and I no longer had any interest in the stuff I used to do.” Saint’s voice startles me from my doze, but I listen with rapt attention as he continues. “I picked fights at school and at the street races where I’d spend most weekends. One night, I started a fight with the wrong guy. He absolutely handed my ass to me, but not before I got in some hits. That impressed him, I guess.

“That guy, who went by Z, was the leader of the biggest car-theft ring in the entire state. There wasn’t a car that got boosted around here without him knowing about it. Instead of killing my punk-ass like I probably deserved, he invited me to join his crew.

“Z assured me that they only stole fancy cars from terrible people. When I knew I wouldn’t be hurting anyone, I was all too happy to join because I felt like I finally had a purpose and people who understood me again. Things were fine for years, and I learned all about how to scope out targets, break into cars, evade detection, and fight.

“But a couple years ago, Z wanted to expand his business. He started trafficking drugs, weapons, and eventually people. I wanted no part of his other ventures, but this wasn’t the type of thing I could just walk away from. I tried to tell him I was done, but it didn’t go well.”

My eyes are wide as I push up on my arm so I can look at him, anxious for him to finish his story. “What happened?”

CHAPTER23

BRIAR

Saint lets out a bitter laugh. “Z and his inner circle took turns beating on me until I was a broken, bloody mess. They left me for dead in a grimy warehouse in a random city. The only reason I survived was my magic. Thankfully, I got mixed up with normal humans, not mages. I probably wouldn’t be here today if I had.”

The thought of Saint not being here absolutely shreds my heart. I throw my leg over his and climb on top of him so that I can hug him with my whole body. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? I’m the one who made those choices, and I had to live with the consequences.” Saint’s voice is filled with so much self-loathing that it makes me feel like I’m going to cry. Instead, I just cling to him tighter as I try to make him feel better. “There aren’t a ton of places hiring for my specific set of skills, so it was a no-brainer to say yes when Rhys approached me about working for him.”

I press a kiss to his neck, and he shudders underneath me. “Working for Elemental, do you have a nine-to-five schedule, or do you work at random hours?”

Saint shakes his head, the movement brushing his hair over my forehead. “I only work for them in a freelancer capacity. I also work for a couple other mage intelligence places as well. But I do have an odd schedule when I’m doing jobs. It’s definitely not the nine-to-five type of job.”

“Do you enjoy it?”

He’s silent as he plays with my hair for a moment. “Yeah, I think so. I like getting to help people, but it can be hard when ops aren’t successful. It’s pretty devastating not to be able to find someone. Or, worse, find them but not in time. That’s what I was so fucking scared was going to happen with you.”

“I’m sorry,” I whisper for what feels like the millionth time in the past week. I hate how much I hurt my mates when all I was trying to do was help them.

“I can’t even be mad at you because I would’ve done the same thing if the roles were reversed.” I huff a laugh, but don’t say anything as I enjoy the feel of his hard body underneath mine. Moving my hips around to try to find a comfortable place, I startle when his hands snake out to still my hips. “Stop moving, little shadow.”

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