Page 13 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)

13

POLARIS

S tumbling through the woods, I tighten my arms around my waist, trying to hold back the swarm of emotions that threaten to rise to the surface.

He left.

He fucked me… and left. Without a word. Not a single one.

I can’t decide if that’s better or worse than the rage that came last time his dick was inside of me, but either way, it’s not proving well anytime he gets close.

My mind is scrambled, the fog impenetrable. The whiplash from Lincoln has reached its limit, and just as I predicted, I’m left hurting from the repercussions of his actions. It’s not physical. Well, the marks on my body are undeniably delicious, but the state of my mental health is another story altogether.

Left alone in the dark, the thought of rejoining the party is the worst idea I can come up with, but going back to the witches’ dorm feels even worse. So here I am, walking through the woods completely unprotected like a fool.

I don't want to think about it. I don't know what to make of him and our encounter.

As I try to straighten my thoughts before I head out into the open, I stumble over a few branches and protruding roots I notice the music getting louder. A flash of students dancing to my right has me veering to the left. At least I know I’m still in the bubble of the wolf party, but I’m thankful there aren’t any onlookers to witness my walk of shame.

Tucking my chin back against my chest, I continue to wander in a daze. I have no idea where I’m going or what I’m trying to achieve, but a familiar sight pauses me in my tracks a little while later.

I run my hands over my upper arms, trying to remove the slight chill from my bones as I find myself right back at the starting perimeter. Not quite in the direct line of the party, though, but a little off to the side where the maze is nestled among the shrubs.

A pang of relief washes over me at the sight. It's my hiding spot, especially in broad daylight, but even now, cast under the shadows of night, it’s a beacon to my crumbling mentality. One that has my feet moving before I even realize it, heading deeper into the perfectly trimmed maze, I halt two steps over the center as eyes meet mine in the dark.

Tatum.

Lost to my delirium, I forgot this was his hiding spot too. It’s not just a beacon of safety for me.

“Polaris,” he breathes, sending a jolt of emotion dancing straight through my chest.

My arms tighten around my middle. “I’m sorry. I should go,” I mumble, turning away, but I don't make it a single step before his words find me again.

“You look sad,” he states, each word curled in concern, and I press my lips together nervously, shaking my head as I glance back at him.

“I’m not sad,” I retort instinctively, the pang in my chest growing tighter as the lie falls from my lips. “Well… maybe, I’m undecided. Definitely confused,” I ramble, acknowledging the fact that tonight really isn’t going at all as I expected.

Tatum nods as if I’m making any sense, but I don’t even understand myself, so I know it’s a lie. Only his is far sweeter than mine. “Maybe what you need is a distraction,” he states, and I scoff, the ache in my chest easing slightly as I let his words take root.

“I’m quite certain that I was in the process of being distracted, but the distraction became the problem,” I admit, unable to hold his gaze when my words fall to a stop.

Sighing, I relax my arms around my middle, staring down at my palms under the moonlight instead. I should have known the moment I saw Terence’s face that nothing good would come from chasing the truth. I should have stayed where I was, dancing with my friends, not looking for trouble. Not when it follows me so freely.

What I hadn’t anticipated is the fact that it would lead back to me, especially not through Lincoln. I still don’t truly know if he is the reason the marks are there or if he simply knows who did it, but my gut knows the truth.

Curiosity and concern led me deeper into the woods, only to find the cause of the damage.

Lincoln.

It was him.

There wasn’t an ounce of regret, a hint of remorse or empathy, just a man riddled with anger that seemed aimed solely at me. Despite my better judgment, I fell under his spell once again. Even though I knew he had something to do with Terence.

I thought I was supposed to be casting the spells here.

I just don’t understand why he would do anything at all.

Maybe Tatum would know, but do I really want to find out after he left me to fend for myself in the middle of the dark woods? Or put him in the middle and ask him to reveal his alpha’s secrets?

At least the feeling of anger toward one another is mutual now.

I might be alone in person, but in my feelings, we’re together.

“Are you going to sit?” Tatum asks, pulling me from my thoughts, and I lift my gaze, eyeing the grass beside him. “We can talk about whatever is bothering you,” he offers, and I shake my head as I take the spot beside him.

Leaning back against the hedge, I bend my knees and wrap my arms around my legs.

The last thing I want to do is talk to him about what’s going on. How would I even word that, anyway?

Oh, I let Lincoln punish me with his dick twice now and both times have led to utter dismay. Once from him finding my coin, a fact he’s clearly still hung up on, and again tonight, when your best friend seemingly beat someone up in my defense and left me alone to wander the grounds in a daze.

Yeah, that won’t work. I don’t want Tatum to hate me too.

I know the sweet boy who makes me feel seen and heard in a world I don't understand doesn’t stare at me like I'm a whore, and yet some part of me feels like I am.

“Want another?” he asks, and I frown for a moment, confused by his offer. “A distraction that is hopefully not an issue,” he clarifies, and I rub my lips together nervously as I peer up at him.

He pauses for a beat as if reconsidering himself, but before he can think better of it, he lifts his pad of paper and pencil in the air. “I’ve been busy.”

Embarrassment laced with a hint of shame washes over me as I realize he’s been holding them this entire time and I’ve been too caught up in my own shit to see past the end of my own nose. The acknowledgment alone clears a little of my brain fog, the vision of the man before me like a beacon to the land of the living.

Focusing on him instead of the mess consuming me, I nod, intrigued and excited by the fact that he’s even offering to show me his work.

“I was out here looking for a distraction of my own,” he breathes, his words soft as he keeps the pad turned away from me.

“A distraction from what?” I ask, aware I’m likely overstepping boundaries, but if he gets to see me vulnerable, then I’m chasing the same from him.

“Parties aren’t really my thing, but my wolf is always desperate to be as close as possible to nature when the full moon is high,” he offers, a snippet of himself that I soak in.

I was worried after he came to my room the other day and we both declared we didn’t trust each other that we wouldn’t share pieces of ourselves again, but here we are, trying, just like we promised.

“It seems like a fitting place to distract yourself,” I answer, a soft smile curling his lips as he nods in agreement.

“Hopefully it can be the same for you too,” he offers, slowly turning the pad in my direction.

I sense the shift in his demeanor as he does, the tension palpable, coming off him in waves, but it doesn’t penetrate my skin. Instead, the sight of his drawing steals my breath, leaving my face heating and pulsing with every thump of my heartbeat.

It’s a girl, standing at the shore, water rippling at her feet as she stares out at the world. Long, floaty hair dances behind her, only a side profile offering a glimpse of her soft facial features.

She looks alone, scared, but curious as the dark night air dances around her, only the moon basking the page in light.

She looks like… me.

I’m standing in the emptiness, lost and alone. He's captured exactly how I feel when I talk to him and try to explain myself, drawing every emotion as if he understands. I've never seen myself more than I do in this moment, not in my whole entire life.

“She’s beautiful,” I breathe, raspier than expected, my throat clouding with emotion.

“You are,” he states, cementing the fact that it’s me on the paper, and I scoff, giving him a pointed look as I turn away from the art.

“I’m a mess.”

He shrugs. “We’re all a mess. That's life.” He says it so casually, like it’s okay for me to be as broken as I feel.

I look up at him, searching for answers I don't know the questions to. Again. His eyes delve deep into my own, searching for my soul.

Two of his friends have fucked me today.

Two.

Deep inside me like no one else has ever been.

He should be judging me. Instead, he's looking at me like I’m… special. He inches closer and I feel myself drawn to him in the same way.

Why should I be ashamed? Why shouldn’t I just feel whatever I want to feel for whoever I want to feel it for? A boost of confidence floods my veins, but before I can truly acknowledge what's going on, his lips are against mine, soft, gentle, just like mine are when they press against his cheek. But this is different. It’s raw, sad, real. It steals my breath, or what’s left of it after the portrait of me worked so well, and tingles spread through my veins.

He retreats before it can get any deeper, but I still feel unstable, air whooshing from my lungs as my body trembles from the connection.

He offers me a soft smile. One that doesn’t waver, even as his next words bleed into the air. “You smell like Lincoln.”

I rear back, disappointment flashing through my mind as I drop my gaze, shaking my head. I’m at a loss for words. “I’m sorry,” I murmur, apologizing, not for the fact that I did what I did with Lincoln, but because I don't want it to affect the gentleness I have with the man beside me.

“Don't be,” he insists, reaching for my hand. His thumb strokes over my knuckles in comfort and a warmth blossoms in my chest. “Let's get you home, Polaris. We don’t want you out here when it’s time for the wolves to run,” he breathes, stuffing his belongings into the backpack I didn't realize was beside him. He rises to his feet a moment later, offering me his hand.

I look up at him as lost as ever. My lips puffy from the kisses I’ve received today. Placing my hand in his, he pulls me to his side and through the maze of hedges as we step back into the real world, leaving our bubble behind.

Darkness seems to swarm us more as we step out of the moon party barrier, taking the pathway toward the dorms, hand in hand, silence offering us comfort as we head toward the looming buildings in the distance.

Bronze, silver, gold, onyx.

They stand stark in the night sky, a beacon among the chaos.

It’s hard to explain, but I feel more self conscious in this moment, simply holding Tatum’s hand, than I did the night I lost my virginity. How is that possible? Maybe something is wrong with me.

As we near the fork in the road that leads to the different dorms, he wordlessly steps onto the sand beside me as we make our way to the witches’ building.

My steps slow as we near the door, and I grow more conscious of how we usually part each other at this stage. Will it be the same tonight, or another repeat of what he offered earlier? But more than anything, what does it make of me to want more?

He comes to a stop at the door and I turn to look up at him, my mind spinning a mile a second. He doesn't tap his cheek this time. Instead, he inches closer, running his thumb over mine.

It’s not me who rises on my tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but him that lowers to press his lips to mine. Just like before, he leans back all too quickly as his eyes lock on mine with a promise.

“One day, Polaris, you're going to smell like me.”