Page 27

Ten

OLEANDER BRIGHTMORE

Keeping track of a chaotically honest Wilder proved to be much more difficult than Oleander had originally believed.

His stomach clenched tighter with each passing moment as she struggled in vain to dam the relentless tide of truths pouring from her. Her carefully protected world was unravelling, and there was nothing he could do but witness it all from afar. He reached into his pocket and gripped the vial he’d brought her. A sickening guilt ravaged his thoughts—he could have prevented this had he been only honest with her before.

He’d watched as she’d finally escaped into a bathroom with her sister, only to watch Sia leave alone shortly after. Maybe he should go check on her. She was alone now, meaning he could sneak over, offer her the vial and… what? Apologise?

Not for one second did he think she would ever believe an apology from him.

Still, the least he could was offer her the antidote. So he crept toward the nearest passageway entrance to go find her. The moment his fingers closed around the handle, the door swung open and Wilder herself was crashing into him.

Before they toppled over completely, he grabbed both the nearby wall and her shoulder. The furious beating of his heart filled his ears as he took her in. She was alone… and her face was streaked with tears still falling.

Without a second thought, he yanked her inside before she could slip away and cause even more havoc. She was about to let out a sob-filled protest when he whispered sharply, “I’m here to help you! Close the damn door and at least hear me out.”

Wilder's tear-streaked glare could have burnt through granite. After a brief hesitation, she nudged the door closed with a quiet snick. Then she tore her shoulder from his grip and folded her arms tightly across her chest.

In the dim cerulean light, Oleander could see the exhaustion and wariness in her eyes. His mind spun, trying to find the right words to convince her. Normally, he was always three steps ahead, calculating every move, but now, staring into her mistrustful lavender eyes, all his plans seemed to crumble away.

“I,” He cleared his throat, struggling to find his footing. “I want to help you.”

“I’m sorry?” She raised a brow. “How are you supposed to help me?”

He winced but pressed on. “It wasn’t your fault you were exposed to the purification smoke in my room. And you’re not used to its effects. Honestly, it would be very unwise to be around your family after you’ve inhaled that much of it.”

Her sceptical expression didn’t soften. “Keep talking.”

Oleander, looked away briefly, tried to steady his nerves and speak with more confidence than he felt. “You can’t fight its effects on your own. This is forceful magic. You’re stuck with it unless you take the antidote.”

He met her gaze and pulled out the vial. She spared the vial a glance, then gave him a spectacular eye roll alongside a scoff dripping with contempt.

Apparently, she wouldn’t believe he wanted to help her for altruistic reasons. She assumed, rightly so in his case, that there was a catch. Normally, with him there would be.

This was the problem with suddenly deciding to do the Right Thing—nobody believed him capable of it.

Wilder cocked her head slightly, her gaze narrowing. “Don’t I already owe you a favour for these shoes?”

“No,” he said, narrowing his eyes back at her. “Those were a gift.”

“Right, and you’re just going to give me two gifts in the span of one day?” She crossed her arms tighter.

“No, this time we’d be making a bargain.”

“I know how you bargain, and it’s rarely beneficial for both parties.”

He gripped the vial tighter, his tone hardening. “Are you insane? The effects of the purification smoke are inescapable. What’s your plan when your family comes home tonight?” He leaned closer, a haughty edge to his voice. “I’m offering you the ability to lie again, which is the only way you’ll survive this night.”

Wilder bit her thumbnail as she considered him, a flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. Why wouldn’t she just make a fucking bargain and let him be done with this?

He exhaled sharply and stepped back, dragging a weary hand down his face as he searched for another way to reach her.

After some deliberation he said, “A demon bargain during the week of Winter Solstice is the absolute safest thing in Hell you could do. There are a million safeguards in place—you could probably recite them by heart.”

Her jaw unclenched and her shoulders relaxing just slightly. Victory ballooned inside his chest, he’d convinced her at last.

“Alright. Fine,” she said. “What’s your bargain?”