Untamed - A. G. Howard Page 0,56

his little sister is enough to make me forget we ever left.

“It’s okay, Jen. It’s not a dream,” I reassure her. “We’re here.”

Jeb strokes her head, purposely skimming my cheek with a fingertip in the process. He doesn’t want to hurt his sister—he’s spent so many years protecting her. But he knows this is best for all of us, in the long run.

Still, it’s obvious he’s struggling and lost, like that little boy he once was.

I clasp his hand and drag him down so his body falls against me on my right side. He snuggles close enough that his soft breaths graze my ear, putting his arm across me and Jen so I’m sandwiched between my two favorite people. Together, the three of us cry and then laugh until we’re hiccuping.

For the first time in weeks, we’re together again. A family.

This feeling. Maybe this is how we find our way back to normalcy.

Once Jenara calms enough, she sits up, trying to slow her ragged breath. “Where have you been? We looked everywhere for you!” The accusation is directed at Jeb. “We thought you were—”

“I’m sorry,” Jeb rises to his knees, interrupting her before she can admit that they were thinking the worst.

I stay put, spine anchored to the mattress. Afraid to move.

“Al, maybe we should just tell her everything all at once,” Jeb says, his voice wavering.

“Including how I sent you there?” I grasp for the right words and fumble terribly.

Jenara’s watery green gaze falls on me. “Huh?” Understanding crosses her face. “Wait.” She scoots off the bed and stands, wobbly but determined. “The police were right? You knew where he was all along? But why would you . . . ?” She sobs again. “What about your mom? Where is she? And your dad? What’s going on?”

I study her tear-streaked face, her pink hair dripping onto her ruffled pajama top, the three tiny freckles on the bridge of her nose. She looks so vulnerable. Do we really want to bring her into this? There’s no turning back once we do.

Jeb forces me to sit up. “You’re the only one who can show her. Make her understand.”

I gulp. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“Somewhere right around here.” He trails a finger down the slits in my dress that reveal my bare shoulder blades. My wing buds tingle at his touch.

Heat scorches my face. “But, I can’t just . . . we need to prepare her.”

Jenara inches backward toward the door. “Prepare me? You guys are freaking me out. I’m calling Mom.” The doorbell rings and she stalls, her face brightening. “Corbin,” she mumbles, and turns toward the hall to let him in.

“No, J.” Jeb tries to stop her but she shrugs him off.

“Wait, Jen!” I jump off the bed. “Corb can’t be here for this.”

“Why not?” She spins, hands on her hips. “He’s been here while Jeb’s been missing. And while you were committed. He loves me, Al. He’s been taking care of me and Mom. Anything you can tell me, you can tell him.” She turns and marches through the bedroom door.

“We-we’ve been to Wonderland!” I blurt, stopping her in her tracks. She does an about-face midway into the hall, her mouth agape.

“Show her your wings,” Jeb adds, narrowing his eyes. His long lashes cast shadows across his cheeks and the luminary lights sparkle across his skin, making him look as much like a netherling as me.

“Wings?” Jenara snaps, stomping back into the room. “Seriously, bro? You want her locked in the asylum again? You have no idea what she went through while they were trying to knock the Wonderland out of her. Don’t enable her delirium!”

“Al . . .” Jeb guides me toward her. “You’re gonna have to own it. There’s no gentle way to make someone believe. It took me a crash course via the rabbit hole.”

Upon hearing the word rabbit, Rabid bursts from the closet, his skeletal form tangled in scarves and belts. He stumbles into Jeb and knocks them both to the floor. Rabid inches along toward me on his belly, looking like a demented caterpillar with only his antlers and pink eyes showing.

“Rabid of White, I be!” He announces in his hissing voice as he rolls around, trying to get liberated.

Jeb curses and Jenara screams so loud all sound deafens to a dull roar, as if my eardrums are stuffed inside a seashell.

The front door slams open and footsteps pound down the hall. Jeb scrambles up to shut Jen’s bedroom, but too late.