Chapter 35: Briar

brIAR

"Okay?" I question as I swallow convulsively. Malachi looks ready to murder someone. Hopefully, it's not me. I earned at least a weeklong break from anyone trying to kill me.

While I'm nervous about what he wants to talk about, I still appreciate how good Malachi looks in his navy tee and jeans. His defined biceps strain against the sleeves of his shirt, and his broad shoulders look even bigger without a suit coat.

Malachi's long legs eat up the distance from the wall to the hospital bed. He folds his massive frame in half so that his face is level with mine. Moving in until his nose bumps mine, Malachi growls, "Don't ever fucking do that again."

He spears one hand through my hair before slamming his lips onto mine. His other wraps around my throat. Using his hand in my hair, Malachi tilts my head exactly where he wants it. His warm lips slide against mine as his tongue demands entrance. I part my lips for him. His tongue invades my mouth, taking, claiming, punishing. Malachi steals my breath and makes it impossible to tell where he ends and I begin.

He kisses like he's trying to permanently brand himself into my soul. So lost to the kiss, I'm all too happy to let him.

He abruptly pulls back from the harsh kiss, standing up fully. I gasp for air. He smirks at me, enjoying how much it affected me. Throwing a shaky arm over my eyes, I take a moment to collect myself. When I surface from my kiss-induced fog, I ask, "Do what?"

He sighs and rubs his palm over his face. "Almost get yourself killed. I thought you were dead when we found you," he grits out, teeth grinding in frustration at me.

I roll my eyes. "I wasn't trying to get kidnapped by Patrick. Why do you care so much?" They're my professors, and I'm their student. Nothing about how they act around me makes sense.

Malachi doesn't say anything for a long moment. His midnight eyes bounce between mine as he debates what to say. "We care because you're our fated mate."

"What?" I croak, figuring I must have heard him wrong.

He clenches his jaw at my confusion. "You're. Our. Fate. Chosen. Mate," Malachi says slowly, enunciating every syllable.

I open and close my mouth, probably looking like a fish, as I try to figure out what to say. "To all three of you?"

Malachi's lips quirk up in a slight grin. "Yes, Briar, to all three of us. There have always been fewer females than males among shifters, mages, and other supernatural races. Women typically have more than one mate."

I'm not even sure what to do with that information. I never thought I'd live long enough to have one relationship, much less three. "Are you sure I'm your mate? How can you tell?"

"I'm one hundred percent fucking sure." Malachi pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. He closes his eyes as he searches for the patience that's in short supply when it comes to me. Opening his eyes again, he continues, "We all knew as soon as we caught your scent. You feel the connection too, so don't try to argue with me about it."

"I don't feel the connection," I automatically protest, but that's not exactly true. I've felt safe with the Wyldharts from day one, even with every brain cell I possess screaming at me that they're trouble.

Their scents all smell like home. I trust them more than I've trusted anyone in a long time. For some reason, I've opened up to them about things I've never told anyone.

Shit. I think he's telling the truth about the mate connection, but a pit forms in my stomach as something else occurs to me. "So, you only like me because fate told you to?" I ask in a small voice.

Why does it feel like my heart's being ripped apart at that thought?

I'm not sure I believe in fate or mates or whatever. It shouldn't matter if three men I absolutely shouldn't have feelings for only care about me because fate said so. But it does. It matters a lot to my pathetic heart.

"No, Briar, that's not how it works."

"Then explain to me how it does work, Malachi," I snap, unreasonably hurt and angry. Fuck. This is why I avoid feeling anything. It turns me into a crazy person. Emotions feel like sharp talons are shredding my soul, which is far more painful than any beating Patrick could ever give me.

"Without the mate bond, we'd still be into you. I'd still admire your fire, your intelligence, your humor, and I'd still be having very inappropriate thoughts about you. I'd never act on them because you'd be just another student," Malachi explains, way calmer than I am.

I want to be angry that he gets to be so calm about completely turning my world upside down. It wasn't enough to find out that there are apparently wolf shifters and that I'm one of them. The universe also needed to throw three mates at me.

But I can't focus on anything other than one part of what he said. "What inappropriate thoughts do you have about me?" While I try to play it cool, my cheeks flame as I imagine what dirty thoughts he's had about me.

"You don't want to play this game with me, baby girl," Malachi warns in a deceptively quiet voice edged with a threat.

"Pretty sure I do." Unlike what Ava thinks, I'm not a virgin. While I'm not the most experienced, I doubt there's anything he could say to shock me. My confidence falters at the dangerous look in his eyes.

Malachi growls as he leans over into my space again. With his warm breath fanning over my ear, he rasps, "Every time I've had you alone in my office, I've wanted to bend you over my desk, bind your wrists with my belt, and fuck you until you beg me to stop."

He nips my ear before standing up, causing me to suck in a sharp breath. My mouth parts in shock as I process what he told me.

I don't know what I expected him to say, but it sure as hell wasn't that.

Jesus fucking Christ. That man has a mouth on him.

With the image he described playing on repeat in my mind, arousal licks up my spine and pools low in my belly.

"Close your mouth, Briar," Malachi orders, placing his index finger underneath my chin to press my mouth shut, "before my control snaps and I decide to fulfill a different fantasy of your pretty pink lips wrapped around my cock."

I choke on my own spit.

Is he trying to kill me?

Death by dirty talk. What a way to go.

What the hell do I even say to him?

Yes, please? Or, does bending me over a hospital bed work instead of a desk?

Yeah, there's no way I'm saying either of those. Things are already complicated between us without adding sex to the mix. I don't know if I can keep my heart safe if I fuck any of the Wyldharts. I snort internally. I absolutely do know. The answer's no. There's zero chance of squashing my feelings for the brothers if I sleep with them.

Bastian yanks me from my thoughts. "If we're sharing fantasies, I have a few you might like, pretty girl. They involve you, me, and lots of rope."

"I'm good," I squeak, already feeling on the verge of combusting from Malachi.

Bastian's eyes twinkle with mirth as he pushes past Malachi. He leans down in my space slowly, giving me a chance to move away.

I don't.

He cups my face with a warm hand on either side. Bastian leans in and tenderly presses his soft lips to mine. My eyes slide closed at the sweet kiss. His tongue gently swipes along the seam of my mouth. When I open for him, his tongue flits in, twining playfully around mine.

While Bastian's kiss is soft and slow, it's no less all-consuming than Malachi's. I lose myself to his mouth, every worry pushed aside by his careful attention.

Bastian pulls back gradually, giving me a few small kisses before his lips leave mine. He leans his forehead against mine. "Please don't do that ever again, sweet girl. I can't lose you," Bastian pleads, voice breaking. "I need you. We need you. So don't go getting yourself kidnapped by a nutjob again, okay?"

"I'll try," I tell him with a sad smile. He knows as well as I do that I can't make any promises while Patrick's still out there.

"That's all I ask." Bastian gives me one last lingering kiss before stepping back. He looks pointedly at Xander, who's shoving his hands roughly through his golden hair.

When his moss green eyes lock on mine, he mutters to himself, "I'm not strong enough for this."

Xander yanks his hand out of his hair and strides determinedly toward me. When he reaches me, he plants one palm next to my face. He cradles the back of my head with his other. Out of nowhere, Xander slams his lips onto mine. His kiss is angry and almost punishing. I won't be surprised if my lips are bruised from the force of his kiss. He bites down on my bottom lip. Hard. I gasp in surprise and pain. Xander's tongue spears into my parted mouth, dueling with mine.

After what feels simultaneously like an eternity and the blink of an eye, he pulls back from our clashing lips, sucking on my lower lip, cleaning up the blood from his bite. He uses his warm thumb to pull my lip down before releasing it. With his startling jade eyes fixed on mine, he growls, "You don't get to fucking die on me."

He wrenches himself away from me before storming to the door. Throwing it open, he slams the door into the wall with a loud bang. Xander leaves without a single glance back.

Tears prick my eyes at his sudden departure. I curse both him and myself for my reaction. "Did I do something wrong?" I ask, trying and failing to sound unbothered. My voice comes out sad and unsure.

"No, baby girl, you didn't do anything wrong." Malachi grabs my hand and squeezes it in reassurance.

"Xander has his issues, pretty girl. Some days, I think he's more fucked-up than I am." Bastian walks to the opposite side of the bed from Malachi as he talks. "Scoot over."

I do as he asks, moving until I'm pressed against the other rail.

Bastian hops into the narrow hospital bed with me. He stretches out his long, denim-clad legs and wraps one muscular arm around me. Dragging me until my head rests on his chest, he nestles me securely against his side. "It doesn't excuse Xander being an absolute dick, though."

"No, it doesn't." Malachi's eyes burn with indignation on my behalf. Behind the anger is also worry for his brother. "I'm going to go after him."

"He won't talk to you," Bastian murmurs into my hair. I soak up his warmth and the comfort of his steady heartbeat under my cheek. My eyes get heavier the longer I lie on him.

Even though his voice is muffled, Malachi has no trouble hearing Bastian. "He won't fucking talk to anyone," Malachi gripes as he scrubs a hand over his face in exasperation, "but I have to try because he doesn't get to hurt her like this."

"Fair enough, bro," Bastian whispers, doing his best not to disturb me as I fight off the sleep that's trying to drag me under.

"Sleep, baby girl," Malachi orders softly as he brushes the hair off my forehead. With one last lingering look at me, he strides out of the room.