Page 8 of Whispers of Wisteria (The Garden of Eternal Flowers #5)

Couldn’t he see the vision? “It makes his words sound wiser.”

“He just told you that you needed a chaperone.”

“Exactly!” I replied. “So now I can prove I don’t.”

Brayden watched me, then rubbed the back of his neck. “Fine, I won’t tell you who he is. But…” He seemed hesitant, then swallowed. “About the chaperones. Why not?”

His traitorous words caused a coldness to settle in my heart. I stepped back. “What?”

“I’m just saying, theoretically,” Brayden said, waving his hands. “Would having a chaperone really be that bad?”

I might never recover. “You—you’d make me have one?” I asked, touching my lips.

“That isn’t my decision to make,” Brayden cajoled. “But also… maybe you’d feel safer. They’re not there to run your life.”

“No.”

Brayden’s shoulders dropped, and my stomach sank.

“I used to be against it because I thought they’d boss me around,” I admitted. “But I know what chaperones do now.”

This was, in part, thanks to my sage. His bluntness had sparked my interest in learning more about this topic.

The sections on blood oaths, ritual sacrifice, chivalry, and the eternal bonds of friendship had been particularly fascinating.

“I don’t necessarily disagree with the concept,” I explained. I twisted my hands together. “Plus, I’m pretty sure everyone watches me anyway. So that part… I can live with, even though I don’t like it.”

I was rambling, but I needed him to understand.

“I just…” My voice wavered. “I don’t want anyone else getting dragged into this.”

“You don’t get to make yourself disposable.” Brayden’s voice was different now—deeper—and when I looked up, my heart skipped.

“I already told you—” His face was like stone, and his smile was gone. “I won’t let you do this to yourself. You have people who want to protect you. Let them do their job.”

“But…” I wrapped my arms around myself. “If anyone gets hurt for me, I’ll never be able to make it right.”

“It’s not like that.” He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Besides, someone will probably make the decision for you anyway,” he said, resigned. “So… please, just try to get used to the idea that you’re worth protecting.”

I didn’t respond—I’d said what I needed already. The silence stretched further.

I hated this. Brayden was the good brother. I didn’t want to fight.

Brayden was the first to cave.

“I, uh…” he started nervously, then gestured towards the table. “Saved your spot.”

He pulled out my chair, looking at me in that serious way that made something strange settle in my stomach. “I’m still your brother, even if you’re mad at me. And I’ll always protect you, even if you hate me for it.”

“Thanks,” I said. I tried to ignore the heat on the back of my neck as I sat down.

“I…” I stared at the pages in the open book. The words blurred together. “I don’t hate you.” My words came out softer than I wanted.

“That’s good.” Brayden petted my hand. “I like you too. So let’s make sure you stay safe, okay?”

“O-okay…” I replied, pulling at a piece of my hair. I stared until the ink blot on the corner of the page began to blur.

Miles POV

I found Damen sitting, defeated, in a corner of the headmaster’s office under an arched window overlooking the campus.

Dean Abernathy, Damen’s father, was at his desk on the other side of the elaborate, white-walled room. He looked up from his paperwork as I stood in the doorway.

“Miles,” he greeted with a nod. He gestured at a seat across his desk. “Don’t lurk like you’re unwelcome. Come in.”

“Hey.” I closed the door behind me. My attention returned to Damen. “Everything okay?”

Damen’s expression was masked. “You heard.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” I sat.

There was no way not to. It was all everyone in my public policy class talked about—Damen Abernathy being seen taking energy from Bryce Dubois’s mysterious, dreamy wife.

They were both too popular for this to stay hidden. Plus, Bianca was acquiring her own fans too, even if she didn’t notice.

“Kind of hard to miss,” I replied, noting how his shoulders slumped further.

“Can their attention be misdirected?” Dean asked.

“Only if they find something more entertaining to talk about,” I replied. Hard to think of anything that’d do the trick outside of exposing who Bianca really was. But I did what I could.

“I’ve got them doubting what they saw,” I said. The expression on their faces when I reminded them that Damen was strong enough to kill them without trying, even without taking energy, had been enough to make them pause. “But it won’t last forever.”

Dean hummed under his breath.

“Maybe she should stay home for now?” I mused. “Just until the rumors die down.”

“No.” Damen looked up. “She’s here because she’s trying to figure things out. I’m not going to isolate her.”

“Then deal with it.” I shrugged.

It wasn’t the worst thing they could say. At least no one suspected the truth.

Damen dragged his hand down his face. “I should have stopped her.”

“It’s understandable that you didn’t.” Dean sat back. “You never realize how much you need your fae until they’re gone. You’ll get used to having her around.”

He’d know. Sung Jin, the fae in his quintet—the Paragon Jiangjuns—had been missing for thirteen years.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Don’t worry. We’re all going to screw up sometimes.”

Damen frowned. “We can’t afford to ‘screw up’ with her.”

“You’re right,” Dean agreed. “You can’t.” He paused, then added, “Because Declan would try to kill you. Then I’d have to intervene, and things would just get messy.”

“That’s not why.” Damen looked to the ceiling, exasperated already. “I don’t need you to fight my battles.”

“You might not need it.” Dean crossed his arms and nodded knowingly. His blonde hair bounced in the movement. “But you’ll accept it anyway, because I made a promise to myself.”

Damen groaned and covered his face.

“It was the day your mother and I brought you home. The Sun sat in the house of the Bull, strong as the Scorpion rose against it. You were new to this earth, already unyielding as your stars, commanding the household with every cry. I swore then I’d never let my precious son come to harm.”

“You watched Jameson sucker punch me a few months ago while we were at training camp,” Damen pointed out.

I remembered that.

It was both hilarious and sad.

Dean ignored him. “And that is why you’ll figure this out. Because you’ve been doing this since the day you were born.”

Damen glanced at him.

“And because you know that if you don’t, I will,” Dean finished.

Damen scowled. “No. I don’t want you to get involved yet.”

“Why not?” Dean asked. “It is unsettling that the woman who will one day steal you from me has been educated within my establishments and we haven’t been introduced.”

“I can’t imagine why,” Damen said dryly.

“And your baby brother—hiding her!” Dean pressed a hand to his head as though wounded. “To learn that your mother knew, while I was left in the dark. It breaks my heart.”

“You’re just jealous,” Damen replied.

Dean frowned. “I should be included.”

Damen stood. “You’ll meet her when I say so. Until then, stay out of it. I’ll take care of this mess. I just need time to think.”

“Very well.” Dean lifted his brow, eyes tracking Damen as he adjusted his sleeves. “But when the day comes, I’ll have my introduction whether you like it or not.”

“Eventually,” Damen replied. “But first she needs time to find a purpose—and to understand how everything works.”

“She’s picking it up,” I said.

“I never said she wasn’t.” Damen began to pace. “She’s good at remembering things. But we’re not ready for the Council. If everyone starts hanging around, there’s more of a chance that the public figures it out.”

“Besides,” I cut in, leaning forward. “Ryan is in your quintet.”

Dean’s shoulders tensed. “Is he a suspect?”

“Not exactly.” Damen stroked his jaw. “His connection to Eric Richards has been known since Abigail’s first investigation—but the history is clear. But… Bianca’s vulnerable, and wolves are a trigger for her. Let’s distance them as much as possible for now.”

“Ryan would kill for her,” Dean said slowly. “But he can only help if you let him know.”

“We will. Let’s just clear everything first,” Damen conceded. “But know that Bianca might not ever be ready to meet him.”

“It would take a lot for her to be ready,” I pointed out.

“Yes,” Damen agreed. “Until then, we need to address these rumors—somehow. Let’s give it a day and see how the atmosphere changes. Then we adjust.”

I nodded. It wasn’t the most proactive plan, but until we understood how much damage had been done, anything else might make things worse.