Page 34 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

In retrospect, there were several better options I could have resorted to. For example, I could have swooned, cried, or even thrown the soccer ball at their heads. Another, of course, would be to announce the presence of a ghost—Miles, at least, would have been on top of things then.

However, logic was not my strongest instinct in the moment. Witnessing them going after each other in this way…

It was impossible to think clearly.

Guilt flooded me, and my vision tunneled. I had to stop them from hurting each other.

And this sort of thing always worked in the movies.

“Stop!” I slipped into the small space between them as they readied themselves for another attack and held out my arms. “Don’t fight anymore!”

Miles’s lip was bleeding already, and his arms were protecting his torso. However, the instant my fingers brushed his forearm, the witch froze. His posture relaxed as the feral anger in his eyes disappeared.

Damen, on the other hand…

He didn’t notice me at all.

I began to raise my hands to cover my head, but I wasn’t fast enough, and I’d barely squeezed my eyes shut before the blunt force of his fist slammed into my jaw.

The impact threw me off my feet. For a split second, I felt nothing. Then, pain bloomed—hot, sharp, and all-consuming. I crashed into Miles before falling onto the hard gymnasium floor.

I couldn’t breathe as I lay on the ground with my hands pressed against my mouth.

Gosh, he hit hard.

“Bianca!” Miles touched my shoulder, but I flinched. The weight vanished instantly.

It felt like cotton balls had been stuffed into my ears, and the already heavy atmosphere grew even thicker.

“Fucking move.” Damen’s curse sounded loud against the others, and I was pulled into someone’s lap. I whimpered and curled tighter as I fought to keep my stomach from turning.

“Put her down,” Bryce ordered somewhere in the background, tone livid.

Damen’s chest rumbled against my ear. “Don’t even try it right now.”

I stiffened, my dread becoming tangible.

“Bianca?” Damen’s rough, shaking hand pressed against the back of my head.

I was nauseated with fear, but then I felt terrible about feeling this way.

It was an accident.

“Baby, are you okay?” he asked.

An accident, an accident.

He’d just been angry and didn’t see me.

He’d been so angry that he couldn’t even take in his surroundings.

Did that happen often?

It was my fault, though. I shouldn’t have gotten involved.

“Let me see.” He cradled me against him, holding me with one arm as he pulled at my hands. “Come on.” His giant fingers wrapped around my knuckles, dragging my hand away from my face.

But what if he lost control again?

“Let me…” Damen began. But as his gaze met mine, his words trailed off.

It was too soon. I hadn’t had time to recompose myself. It was difficult to think past my throbbing lip and the events that had led up to it.

However, watching Damen’s confident yet slightly panicked expression shift into something else entirely was enough to distract me.

“Hey…” I meant to sound reassuring, but my voice came out broken and pained—it hurt to open my mouth, and I winced as I spoke.

I could see him shutting down and a sweat began to break out on the back of my neck.

His eyes darkened, attention lingering on my mouth, before he stood, holding me with a gentleness that didn’t quite match his suddenly cold mood.

“Here,” he said, pushing me onto Miles. The witch took me without argument, and I fell against him, hands reflexively coming up to cradle my face. “She can’t be with me.”

“D-Damen!” The panic choked me as the pain retreated—no doubt thanks to Miles. But it was enough to help me think clearly.

He couldn’t run away. He couldn’t.

But as he touched the bridge of his nose, my focus remained fixated on his hand.

It was an accident.

Nothing would be the same if we left things as they were now.

Damen ignored my protest and stalked from the gymnasium, slamming the door behind him.

Miles refocused on me. He set me on a bench before he fell to his knees.

“Show me your face,” he said, pulling my hands away.

I let him even as my attention remained at the abandoned doorway.

“You’re bleeding,” Miles pointed out and grabbed a clean towel from a nearby pile. Then he addressed Bryce, calling over his shoulder, “Hand me that water.”

I’d forgotten about him.

Bryce stood still as a statue some feet away, watching me, and not so much perturbed by Damen’s departure or Miles’s hovering.

However, a short moment after Miles’s order, his stoic expression fell, and he sighed as he stalked to the folding table and snatched up a water bottle. He tossed it in the witch’s direction.

“I told you not to do anything stupid,” he lectured.

“I-I’m sorry.”

Bryce narrowed his eyes as Miles touched the cloth against my face, watching for my reaction. My muscles were tense, but with worry, not pain.

“D-do you think h-he’s mad at m-me?” I asked.

Damen had been super angry when I didn’t listen to him when he fought the hyenas. And he wasn’t thrilled when I jumped between him and the Snallygaster. He told me never to get involved.

But this was the first time I’d ever really gotten hurt, and from his own hand.

He was probably beyond livid with me.

“Damen?” Miles asked, pressing the towel to my lip. “Nah. He’s upset with himself.”

“But…” My attention wandered back to where he’d disappeared.

“He’s a lonely person,” I whispered, voicing my long-held theory for the first time. Miles’s movements paused at my statement, and he raised his eyebrow, giving me a doubtful look.

Was I the only one who could see it?

“He acts the way he does because he wants attention. He needs to be loved and admired. He lashes out when he feels like he’s losing control because he doesn’t know what else to do,” I told him; my breath was tight at the thought.

“He crossed a line and probably has no idea how to make it better. He won’t stop running away, especially if he’s ashamed. ”

He was a lot like me in that regard.

“He needs someone to talk to him.” I should go after him, but what if he was still mad?

Bryce groaned, rolling his eyes as his posture relaxed. “Fine.”

I glanced at him. ‘Fine,’ what?

“I’ll go be his friend again,” he answered, sounding put out.

“Wait…” That wasn’t what I wanted. Not exactly. I wanted Damen to stop running, but not—

I pushed on Miles’s shoulder, holding out my hand to Bryce. But he was already stalking away.

Friends, again?

Why did my chest hurt at the thought?

I didn’t want Damen to feel lonely, but that wasn’t what I asked for. If Damen was friends with Bryce, then where did that leave me?