Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

brIAR

" S top," I gasp when the pain finally gets too much. My head feels clearer than it's been in days, and I feel like I can finally breathe.

Although my voice was barely a whisper, Malachi instantly stops. His hand rubs tenderly over my abused ass. Even the light touch burns. "Had enough?" he asks gently, his harsh tone from earlier absent entirely.

His soft voice is enough to almost undo me. I was so sure he'd hate me for what happened to Xander, but he's treating me like I'm precious to him. Even though I know it'll break something in me if I'm wrong, I start to hope he doesn't hate my guts. Tears prick my eyes as I whisper, "Yeah."

Malachi tugs my shorts and undies back into place, smoothing his hand over my throbbing butt cheeks. "Stand up," he orders softly.

I do as he says, too spent to do anything other than comply. He gathers me into his arms. With his hands right under my ass, he lifts me up. I hiss at the sting but don't resist. Instead, I wrap my legs around his tapered waist and wind my arms around his neck.

When he's sure I'm secure, he strides over to the sofa in his room and sits down with me still wrapped around him, so I'm straddling his lap. Malachi unhooks my legs from his waist, positioning me so I'm resting on his lap, right over his hard dick.

My eyes widen at his hard-on. He doesn't say anything, so I decide just to ignore it for now. I lay my head on one of his broad shoulders, pressing my lips against his neck. Malachi rubs my back softly for a few minutes, content to sit in silence with me.

Finally, he's the one to break our peaceful quiet. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I whisper. A lump forms in my throat as I wonder if I should ask him if he's angry at me over Xander. Deciding just to woman up and get it over with already, I rush out, "Do you hate me?"

"What? Of course not! Why would you think that?" Malachi leans back like he's trying to get a look at my face.

I just shrug and keep my face buried in his shoulder. My lips are clamped tight, and I don't really know the right words to answer his question. Hiding like an ostrich with my head in the sand instead of responding sounds like a stellar idea to me.

"Look at me, baby girl," Malachi softly demands. When I don't comply, he spears his hand through my hair. With his grip on the strands, he gently pulls my head back until I'm forced to look at him. "I've never hated you, Briar, not for a single moment. Is that what this has been about? Why you needed pain?"

With how he's holding my head in place, there's no avoiding his gaze now. I sigh. "Yes and no?" I respond helpfully before closing my eyes to gather myself. "It's my fault Xander got shot. I just assumed you and Bastian blame me and never want to see me again."

I peek my eyes open when Malachi doesn't immediately answer me.

He was clearly waiting for me to look at him. As soon as our gazes connect, he rumbles, "Listen to me closely, Briar. None of this was your fault. Not a single goddamn thing. This isn't our first run-in with the Knights, and it won't be the last. One of us was bound to get hurt facing off with those bastards."

"But Xander was only there today because of me. Plus, you heard what they said. They were looking for me. Without me, Xander wouldn't have gotten hurt," I point out. While what he said makes sense to some extent, it doesn't alleviate the crushing guilt I feel.

Malachi sighs and leans his forehead on mine. "I know what they said. Yes, they were looking for you. No, it's not your fault. You aren't responsible for others' actions. Even without you, there's every chance Xander would've been hurt. The Knights have it out for our pack already."

He cups my face with his other hand and strokes his thumb over my cheekbone as he talks. I lean into his touch, momentarily sinking into the utter safety I feel whenever he holds me. His words tumble around in my mind. I don't know if I believe them, but I feel a little less on edge knowing he doesn't despise me.

Eventually, I pull back from his hold to look at him. "Why do the Knights have it out for your pack? And what's a pack?"

"Our pack is the largest wolf pack in North America. If they take us out, they eliminate a decent chunk of wolves. The Nightshades are the only pack that comes close to our size, but they're on the East Coast. We're friendly enough with them but don't see them often. A pack is a group of wolves, or other shifters, that's kind of like a family. My dad is the Wyldhart Alpha, so he's the authority over everyone else in the pack. Betas are the second-in-command, and there's usually at least two of them. Dad's brothers should've been his betas, but they died before I was born. His sister wasn't interested, so Sam and Jesse, his best friends, are the betas now." Malachi drops his hand from my face and releases my hair before settling his hands on my waist and tracing small patterns. I shiver at the sensation.

My forehead crinkles in confusion as I listen to him. There's so much about this world I don't know or understand. I feel so out of my depth. For now, I need to focus on only a few questions. Otherwise, I'll drown in it all. "Why do they want to take you out? And who's the next alpha?"

"The Knights want to eliminate all magic users and keep the magic for themselves. All supernaturals are magic users. Shifters use magic to change forms, mages use magic to cast spells, and fae use magic to create illusions, and so on. To answer your second question, I'm the next alpha. Xander and Bastian will be my betas."

My eyes widen in surprise. Jesus. I guess I'm not the only one the Knights have a problem with. At the mention of Bastian and Xander, I remember what Xander told me about their family business. "Your family doesn't have a business, do they? You work at WHU to buy Bastian time before he has to be your beta."

Malachi's brows rise in surprise. "Yeah. Who told you that?"

"Xander."

"I'm surprised he told you anything about Bastian," Malachi mutters to himself before focusing back on me. "But, yes, we work at the university so Bastian has a few years before we start training under Dad and his betas."

"How long do you train for?"

"Thirty years, give or take."

I tilt my head as I mentally calculate what age he'd be in thirty years, but I realize I don't know quite how old he is. I'd say he's around thirty. "That's a long time. You'll be old enough to retire by then."

He flicks his midnight eyes between mine for a moment as he debates what to say. After briefly closing his eyes, Malachi blows out a breath before answering me. "We don't age the same way humans do. Wolves live twice as long, so about two hundred years."

"What?" I squeak. So, not only am I not human, but I'm also apparently going to live for multiple centuries. It'd be cool if I weren't overwhelmed with everything that I've learned lately.

"You're going to live a lot longer than a human, baby girl. We think it has to do with humans losing their magic, but we're not sure. So, shifters and mages tend to live around two hundred years. Vampires live pretty much forever until they're killed. Fae live thousands of years, typically. Each species has its own lifespan, but we all live longer than regular humans."

"Unless the Knights or Patrick kill me first," I point out.

A deep growl rattles in Malachi's chest. His eyes flash amber, and he squeezes me tightly where he's holding on to my waist. "That's not fucking happening. Get that thought out of your head."

I swallow uneasily at the anger I see burning in his gaze, but I refuse to lie to placate him. "I don't want it to happen, Malachi, but I'm not na?ve enough to think it can't ever happen. Patrick's gotten pretty close a ton of times."

He clenches his jaw so hard I can hear his teeth grinding. Whereas his eyes were flickering between deep blue and amber, they're now solidly the same yellow-gold as his wolf. "I know you love to disagree with me just for the hell of it." I open my mouth to argue, but I shut it when Malachi raises an eyebrow at me. I'm kind of proving his point. "But we need to talk about something other than you being in danger. My wolf is too close to the surface, and I'm barely holding him back right now."

"What happens if he gets free?"

"You'll be claimed in a heartbeat." Malachi's eyes now simmer with a mixture of heat and anger.

"What does claiming mean?"

"It means I'd fuck you and leave my mark on your shoulder," he growls.

"Oh," is all I can say. My cheeks flush bright red as I'm bombarded with thoughts of sleeping with him. He'd probably be just as bossy while we fuck as he is normally. That thought excites me more than it should. I've always preferred to be in control when fooling around with guys in the past, but there's something about Malachi that makes me want to let him take the lead.

Malachi's lips tilt up in a half smile. "Yeah, oh."

I duck my head and lie on his shoulder to avoid his knowing gaze and cool the red-hot lust that's flooding my system. Shifting my hips, I try to get more comfortable on his lap, but all that does is grind my center over his erection. I muffle my moan in his neck and still. Moving around's only making things worse.

"Fuck, baby girl," he groans into my hair as his hands flex on my hips. My lips curl in a small smile. At least I'm not the only one affected.

Shoving the horny thoughts out of my mind because I'm not sure I'm ready to be claimed, I try to think about something else to talk about. "Where'd you learn to do, um, what we did earlier?" My cheeks burn at the thought of Malachi's hand on my bare ass.

"Bastian." I choke on my spit at his answer. Whipping my head up, I look at Malachi with wide eyes. He rolls his at me. "Not like that. I don't spank my brother. That'd be fucking weird."

I snort at his exasperation, which turns into giggles at the mental image of him spanking Bastian. Eventually, I get my laughter under control enough to ask, "What do you mean?"

"I discovered giving pain in a controlled environment is a good alternative for pain that actually does damage. Bastian had a lot of torment and rage from what happened to him. He almost got himself killed more than once trying to drown out his feelings in the ring." Malachi breaks off abruptly at the mention of his brother almost dying. His navy eyes swim with pain before he looks up at the ceiling to collect himself.

My heart breaks for all three brothers. Bastian isn't the only one who suffered because of his abuser. They all hurt from it, just in different ways. "I'm sorry," I whisper.

After exhaling raggedly, Malachi looks back at me. "You have nothing to be sorry for. I spar with Bastian now whenever he needs pain. He knows he can come to me any time, day or night, and I'll spar with him. The same goes for you. It doesn't matter what I'm doing. I'll drop it in a heartbeat if you need me."

My cheeks flush at his words, and my heart does an excited flip in my chest at him being willing to help me if I need it. I'm not alone anymore. I've got Vale and Abbie. But, for some reason, it's the Wyldhart brothers I want to be there when I need it—even Xander, who'd be as likely to push me down as help me up.

Shaking my head to clear it of thoughts of Xander and the guilt for him getting shot, I try to change the topic. "Where'd you learn spanking then?"

Malachi closes his eyes in resignation for a moment before opening them and telling me, "From fucking." A growl works its way out of my throat as jealousy burns hot and caustic through me. "There was never an emotional component to it, baby girl. Never anything like what we just did." His navy eyes are locked with mine, and I see sincerity shining in their depths.

"Then what was it for?"

He sighs deeply before answering. "It was for pleasure. Hers and mine. But I haven't fucked anyone since I met you, Briar."

I clench my fists where they rest on Malachi's shoulders as I try to wrangle the jealousy taking a joy ride through me. While his words help some, I still hate the idea of him touching another woman like he touched me. It's even worse when I think about how this woman was likely someone who meant something to him.

I'm turning into a psycho, apparently. I know he had a life before me, but a part of me wants to murder anyone he's ever been with. "Was this with a girlfriend?" I grind out.

Malachi barks out a laugh. "No. I've never had a girlfriend or even repeat partners. It was all one-time things like you had. I've just had more. I am almost nine years older than you."

My mouth pops open in surprise. He grins slightly at my shock. "How old are you?" I ask, not having given much thought to our age difference.

"I'm twenty-nine. Xander and Bastian are twenty-five."

"Oh," I say as eloquently as I always am around the Wyldharts. Maybe it's a mate thing that being around the three of them fries my brain. Who knows.

"Does that bother you?" Malachi tilts his head as he assesses me, trying to figure out what I'm feeling.

"No," I answer automatically. "Should it?"

Malachi's shaking his head before I even finish. "No. There's no ‘should' in our relationship. We do what's right for us, not what anyone else thinks we should do. All that matters is how you feel about it."

"Is that what we are? In a relationship?" I ask hesitantly. I'm not sure what exactly being mates means. A larger part of me than I want to admit wants his answer to be yes.

"If by relationship you mean you're irrevocably mine for the rest of time, then yes." Malachi stares at me, all humor from earlier wiped off his handsome face.

My eyes bounce between his dark ocean ones. "Are you mine?"

"We all are, Briar. You're it for the three of us, even if you decided you didn't want us. I'd like to say I'm the type of man that'll let you go if that makes you happy, but I'm not. So I'll just have to do whatever it takes to keep you happy with us."

I should probably be alarmed by him saying he won't let me leave, but all I feel is warmth bubbling in my chest at his declaration.

At the thought of being with the Wyldharts long term, my brain screams at me not to get too comfortable. People leave. Always. Yet, my heart is shouting just as loudly that I belong with the Wyldharts. Nowhere has ever felt as right as when I'm in any of their arms.

Not that I'm going to tell Malachi any of that. Searching for something to say, I open and close my mouth a few times. Before I can settle on something, his bedroom door crashes open.