Page 25 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)

25

ASHER

F uck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Raking my fingers through my hair, I glance from my uncle and his men to Polaris and back again. I was so caught up in her, in that God-forsaken dress, that I forgot all about the commitment and promise I made to Finch.

If my uncle is showing up here, it’s clearly a bigger deal than I had anticipated. And now the girl who had me losing my damn mind is naked beside me, and the last thing I want is for her to be caught in the crossfire of whatever this is about to become. It will become something, it always does when The Crow is involved.

“I need to get you out of here,” I breathe, turning my attention back to her, and she frowns, folding her arms over her chest as she steps back from the balcony.

“How am I supposed to go anywhere like this?” she retorts, disbelief leaving her voice weak, and I hate myself for it.

In the moment, I was infatuated, obsessed, and lost in every inch of her. In the moment, I thought I would get the time to appreciate the afterglow with her. She looks just as stunning now as she did when I first laid eyes on her tonight. Only now her hair is tousled, her make-up smeared, and her skin prickled pink. Nevermind the liquor that still lingers on her skin, mingled with the remnants of my cum on her back.

Fuck.

Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I will an idea to come to mind, but it’s impossible. With The Crow here, I can do nothing but face the music, and I can’t do that with her at my side. No way. No fucking way is he even allowed to know she exists.

Reluctantly, I sigh. “We’ll?—”

“Asher.” Lincoln’s voice cuts through the air, and a second later, he’s cutting across the room toward us. “I think you’re being summoned,” he grunts, his eyes raking over Polaris from head to toe. His jaw falls slack, heat pooling in his eyes, but he quickly shutters it as he cuts behind the bar, reappearing a moment later with a tablecloth in his hands.

“Yeah,” is all I manage, watching as he steps toward Polaris slowly, fabric offered out as a sort of modesty shield. She doesn’t shy away when he drapes the material around her shoulders, shielding her, but it does nothing to hide the remnants of sex that cling to her features.

“That means you need to get dressed, asshole,” Lincoln snaps, cocking a brow at me, and I swipe a hand down my face, nodding in agreement as I search for my clothes.

They’re strewn all over the floor and I quickly cut around the room, adding a layer as I go until I’m slipping my shoes on, ready to face my uncle’s wrath. Another deep breath, and I focus on Lincoln again. He stands ramrod straight beside Silver, who doesn’t lean into him for comfort, but I can see the distress on her face.

This is all my fault.

Fuck.

Four strides and I’m standing toe to toe with her. I cup her cheek, tilting her head back so I can stare deep into her eyes, but the worry and confusion I see burns through me. “Stay with Lincoln. He’ll keep you safe. The others too, okay?”

She worries her bottom lip but doesn’t say a word, and it seems I’ve used up all the spare time I had. Pressing my lips to her forehead, I feel her shiver at my touch before I bring my mouth to her ear. “You are perfect, Silver. Such a good fucking girl. I’ll make this little inconvenience up to you soon.” It’s a promise, one for me just as much as it is for her.

I step back, reluctantly turning my attention to Lincoln. “Take care of her. Get her out of here safely,” I grind out, and he nods. It’s not the verbal confirmation I would prefer, but it will do.

With one final look at the witch that has worked her magic on me, just as she has with my brothers, I rush down the steps two at a time. The second I reach the first floor, my demeanor shifts, the urgency in my steps dissolving as I take measured strides in the opposite direction of everyone else.

As panicked bodies rush for the exit, desperate to flee the man in the middle of the room, I make my way toward him. Despite the men surrounding him all dressed in black, he still stands out, just as he intends. It’s the damn mask. I don’t know who told him it was a good idea, but I can’t deny that there’s something eerie about it. It’s a statement in itself, add it to the fact that the man wearing it is ruthless, and it’s a toxic combination.

The Crow.

The name, however, is questionable. The man is a fucking wolf, just like me, my mother, my father, and every man that surrounds him. It must mean something. Either that or he chose the mask first and the name second.

The black beak of the mask shields the bottom half of his face that remains uncovered. Any inch of skin you may see is scarred, adding to the horror that is The Crow. I didn’t know who The Crow was until my mother placed me in his care, but it didn’t take long to understand.

He is a bad man.

One that doesn’t chase money.

No.

His debts came with an entirely different cost.

Favors.

And never the good kind. Well, if you are on the other end of one of his favors, it is never to your advantage. Even if you are getting something out of it, it never trumps his gain.

His men eye my approach, refusing to part until I’m a few yards away, only then is my uncle fully revealed to me. I stop before him, lifting my arms at my sides subconsciously, and his men move in, patting me down like I would be foolish enough to try anything against this man.

I’ve received a pat down since the first day I met him. I’ll receive one every time until the day I die. The quicker they get it over with, the quicker I can get him out of here.

As the pat down finishes, I glance at Finch standing beside my uncle, hating the smug look on his face. He either didn’t tell my uncle of the agreement we made earlier, or despite it, encouraged him to take this drastic action.

Fucker.

“You kept me waiting, boy,” my uncle sneers, the mask remaining firmly in place since there are still innocent people around us.

I blink at him with a shrug. “How good of you to take matters into your own hands,” I reply, and I see the slightest twitch at his jaw.

He despises my attitude. He says it reminds him of my father, who always manages to bring a sneer to his lips when mentioned. I may not have many memories of my father, but knowing I have traits of his feels more like a blessing than a curse because my alternative is admitting I have traits from my mother, and subsequently, the man before me.

“Don’t try me,” he growls, his eyes swirling through the small holes cut into the mask, and I try not to roll my eyes at him.

Tucking my hands into my pockets, I force a tight smile to my lips. “What do you want, Uncle?”

A blur of black darts in front of my vision has me regretting trying to go for the whole nonchalant vibe because I leave myself defenseless as a fist pummels into the side of my face.

Fuck.

Finch.

A gasp echoes from behind us, drawing attention from a few of The Crow’s men, but I keep my eyes locked on the asshole throwing his weight around. If I turn around, I know it’s Polaris I’m going to find. I know that gasp was her, but I don’t need these fuckers to even think that she registers on my radar.

Rubbing at my jaw, I glare at Finch, trying to keep my heart rate steady.

“It’s The Crow to you,” my uncle’s right-hand man snarls, spitting at my feet, the challenge clear in his eyes, and I sneer at him.

“Fuck off, Finch.”

He steps toward me, ready to throw another hit my way, but I’m prepared this time. To my surprise, though, my uncle’s voice cuts through the air instead.

“Outside, Asher. Now.”

He doesn’t wait to see if I follow, he just takes off toward the doors behind him, and like the well-trained dog that I am, I follow his lead.

The bite of the night air does little to cool my skin. I take a moment to watch the students of Trinity Falls Academy hurry back toward campus and I can only hope that Polaris, Lincoln, and the others are among the crowd.

My uncle heads toward the left of the building, where the security lights are a little dimmer, and surrounded by his men, certain no one can see him, he removes the infamous mask. The scarred skin that marks his chin creeps over his cheek, turning jagged at his temples. It’s a mixture of burn scarring and knife wounds. Battle scars nonetheless, ones that he relishes in.

His gaze threatens to send a shudder down my spine as he assesses me. Even after all this time, it still leaves me feeling like that same nervous little boy.

“Leave us,” he orders, and in sync, his men turn around, offering us a hint of privacy while still protecting my uncle. It doesn’t really make any sense to me why they bother, they can still hear us, but I guess it allows The Crow to feel royal and powerful as his precious followers turn and bow their heads at his command.

He crooks his finger, drawing me closer, and when I step within his reach, his men adjust to cage me in his inner circle. My least favorite place to be in the world.

“I require an artifact,” he states, and my eyebrows crinkle.

“Okay?”

He sighs, disappointment coating the sound as if explaining himself to me is beneath him. “I require you to get it for me.”

There it is.

I don’t instantly argue, though. That’s not how this works. “And how am I supposed to do that?”

His lips curl and he bares his teeth, but it’s not a smile. Far from it. “Figure it out, all the details are in here,” he states, digging his hand inside his long leather jacket to reveal an envelope.

I take the brown packet from his grasp, but let it hang at my side instead of opening it. “What do I get in return?”

His eyes gleam. That’s how this works. He brings a job, and I wager whether what he has to offer in return is worthy of my time. Truth be told, it always is, because this man is nothing if not meticulous in his dealings.

He rocks back on his heels, the only hint that he’s slightly excited by what he has to offer, and my emotions flip flop between curiosity and panic. Two warring emotions that always come with a visit from this man.

“I believe there’s something hidden alongside the artifact I want that may be of interest to you,” he states, making my lips purse as I give myself a moment to absorb his words without revealing too much of my intrigue.

“And what’s that?” I ask, tilting my head as I stare him down, and the grin that spreads across his face tells me he’s got me exactly where he wants me before he even speaks.

“The chalice used to create the blood kin curse.”