Page 26 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)

26

POLARIS

S leep clings to me like a second skin, a feeling I’m not all that familiar with, and as I pry my eyes open, the sweet remnants of it dissolve. Light bathes over me from the window since the curtains aren’t drawn and it takes me a moment to consider why I wouldn’t have closed them.

The memories of last night flood me all at once, an intricate slideshow that plays in my mind.

Asher’s hand in mine.

The fight.

Asher’s hands on my body.

The win.

Asher’s words.

The word.

Asher’s praise.

The climax.

My fucking climax.

Everything was… fucking everything, until it wasn’t.

I still don’t know what the hell happened last night, but the second that man and his cronies flooded The Aurum everything went to shit. I was no longer entranced by Ashers words and touches, and instead, draped in a fucking table cloth to hide the remnants of what we had been doing.

Was it all stupid?

Fuck, I made an embarrassment of myself.

To his credit, and my utter surprise, Lincoln didn’t say a word. If anything, he was… protective. The second Asher left the VIP area, Lincoln kicked into action. He gathered my scattered clothes and my purse before bundling me tighter under the tablecloth and escorting me downstairs.

I had the delight of witnessing one of the guys punching Asher in the face before Lincoln guided us through the same side door we used last time to get us the hell out of there. I didn’t want to leave Asher, it didn’t look safe, but I didn’t have a choice.

Waiting outside were Wylder, Tatum, Minnie, and Bryony. They each took one look at me before glancing at Bryony. A few mutters under her breath and a pinch of her sand later, I was dressed in what remained of my clothes.

At least I could make the journey back to the dorms looking a little less compromised.

No more time was wasted as Tatum led the way, leaving Wylder and Lincoln behind to wait for their friend. Thankfully, I managed to avoid any kind of conversation with my friends on the return home, darting straight for the shower when we made it back before I passed out on my bed the second my door clicked shut behind me.

Now, as I look up at the ceiling, I still can’t decide whether I regret any of it or not. My legs ache and my mind is still riding the tendrils of the orgasmic glow that followed the fun we had. Yet I already get the sense that it’s not going to make a difference in how today goes.

If Wylder fucks me, eats me, or finger fucks me, then he’s sweet afterward, showering me with attention and sweet kisses like I deserve joy and happiness. Tatum leaves an air of promise, a sweetness that makes my cheeks heat to unbearable levels. Yet when it’s Lincoln, everything goes to shit. He fucks me, then my world crumbles. If my guess is anything to go by, then Asher’s going to be the same. I’ll be two for two between the four of them. Half will bring me joy, the other half disaster.

I hope that’s not the case, but really I need to pull my head out of my ass and realize that it’s highly likely. Those men are wolves, and I’m a witch. I’ve been told time and time again that quadrants don’t mix, but I still find myself in their grasp.

If anyone is going to get hurt, anyone at all, it will be self-inflicted by me to me. I’m screwed.

My alarm blares to life from my nightstand, making me jump, and I hurry to turn it off. I’m exhausted, and it’s technically the weekend now, but I’m committed to learning and that means no relaxing for me when there’s a whole-ass library to dive into.

Throwing my legs over the side of the bed, I sigh, pushing my hair back off my face before I stumble toward my armoire. Blindly, I grab a pair of jeans and a black tee, along with some plain underwear, and quickly dress.

I switch my personal belongings from the little purse Bryony let me borrow to the backpack that’s loaded with the books I’ve scanned through already, and I’m ready to go. A quick stop for breakfast in the dining hall and I’ll be fueled up for an entire day of burning my retinas into books that will help me grow, or so I hope.

But as I step toward the door, I pause, an eerie shiver running down my spine as something black catches my attention out of the corner of my eye.

I blink, and blink again, but despite my hopes, it doesn’t disappear.

Running my tongue over my bottom lip, I take the two steps to reach the foot of my bed where a lone black feather lays with a small white card propped beside it. Alone, the feather looks delicate, angelic, and filled with promise, but upon closer inspection of the card, it taints every single thought.

My fingers tremble as I reach for them both, nausea churning in my gut as I read it out loud.

“Courtesy of The Crow.”

Please be in the dining hall. Please be in the dining hall.

My feet can’t carry me fast enough. It probably doesn’t help that my backpack is weighing me down and I’m intent on holding the feather and card in a deathly tight grip, but regardless, I need to move faster.

I considered knocking on Bryony’s door for help, but quickly decided that I need to get to the source of the problem instead. That being Asher. If he’s here anyway.

My mind rattles with panic as I veto the pathway and cut across the perfectly manicured lawn toward the dining hall, looking over my shoulder every couple of steps. Thankfully, it’s quiet since it’s the weekend, but I’m acutely aware of the few weird looks I’ve received from those passing me by.

Or maybe it’s the feather they’re looking at. Do they know what it means?

Shaking my head, I focus on finding the guy I need the most. It’s not lost on me that I’m running away from the wolf building, but it felt safer to head toward the dining hall first. I almost stumble over my own feet as I head inside, hollering an apology when I almost collide with a girl, but none of it is worth it when I screech to a halt at the dining hall entryway to find it almost empty.

There are a few wolves filling their table to the far right, but not one of them is the man I need, or the ones closest to him for that matter. Well, there is Bianca.

Fuck.

She’s not an option.

Not at all.

Dammit.

That means I’m going to have to put on my big girl panties and go over to the wolf dorms. At least the worst of them all is here and not there I guess. Heaving a breath, I try to steady my wildly beating heart as I turn around, ready to leave, when a familiar flash of white hair consumes my vision.

I gasp, relief flooding my veins as his eyes lock with mine.

Three whole seconds pass with us frozen in place and my spine stiffens, ready for him to act just like Lincoln. I step back, uncertainty warring inside of me, but he makes a move toward me, confusion clouding his vision as he takes in the state of me. Then his eyes drop to the feather in my hand and his jaw falls slack.

“Polaris,” he breathes, and a sob tears from my throat.

“Please help me,” I beg. I don’t know what’s going on, but it doesn’t take much to understand that this being left on my bed, while I was sleeping, by the man that had everyone fleeing last night is not a good thing. The look on his face confirms my fears.

“What’s going on? What’s the hold up?” Wylder asks, appearing behind Asher. His eyes land on me and he smiles, but it quickly falls when he too sees the feather in my hand.

“Fuck,” he rasps. “Should I get the others?” he asks, and Asher nods, refusing to tear his gaze from me.

A second later, he eliminates the distance between us, throwing his arm around my shoulders as he pulls me in against his side. We’re moving before I realize it, heading back outside without a word, but the soft press of his lips on my head fills me with… something. It feels slightly positive, even if I can sense the rigidness in his frame as Wylder storms ahead, cellphone pressed to his ear.

Not a single word is spoken between us, not a note of consolation passes his lips, and as we approach the silver building and the wood-chip pathway, fear threatens to claw at me again.

Entering the wolf dorm for the second time in my life, I follow after Wylder, who leads us to the left, heading straight for the Alpha office. Lincoln is seated at his desk when I step over the threshold, Tatum groggily scrubbing at his face from the sofa, and a flicker of embarrassment threatens to consume me.

Maybe I shouldn’t be here? But where else am I supposed to go?

I internally berate myself for second guessing my decision as Asher kicks the door shut behind us, dropping his arm from my shoulders, and I feel even more isolated than ever as the four of them stare at me.

Lincoln glares in my direction, but the focus of his attention is on my hands and not my face, so I take that as a positive that he’s not mad at me, I think. “Where was it?” he asks as everyone else just gapes at me, and I gulp.

“My bed.”

“Fuck,” Asher curses as he starts to pace in short steps to my right.

“Was it there when you fell asleep?” Lincoln asks, and I shrug.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” he snaps, clearly unhappy with my uncertainty, and my nostrils flare in agitation.

“I’m giving you the truth. What do you want me to do, lie?”

“I’d rather you weren’t here with that thing at all,” he snaps back, and I scoff at the audacity of this asshole.

“And I’d rather it wasn’t in my room at all, but the only person who can help me is in this room. I have no idea what it means or why it was there, but I know it isn’t something good.”

“Well, at least you know something,” Lincoln grunts, and Tatum launches to his feet.

“That’s enough, Linc,” he warns, and the asshole sitting almighty in his chair sags forward, his head dipping as he shakes it dismissively.

“It’s not our problem,” Lincoln states, and the scoff comes from Wylder this time.

“That’s bullshit and we all know it,” he retorts, glancing at me with a sad smile on his lips, but it does nothing to ease the worry in my heart.

“Can someone just tell me what it means?” My question hangs in the air for what feels like an eternity before Asher stops pacing, his eyes finally drawing to mine as he sighs.

He rakes his hand through his hair, his marbled eyes bigger and brighter because his pupils are so small. “It’s my fault, Silver.” My eyebrows gather in confusion, desperate for more of an explanation than that. “That’s the calling card of The Crow. It means he’s got a deal to make.”

“What deal? I don’t want a deal!” I say, my voice getting faster and higher in pitch with every word as panic filters into my voice.

“Nobody ever wants the deal, Silver,” he mutters in response, and I shake my head.

“No, Asher, I don’t want it. Give it back to him,” I insist, thrusting both the feather and the card in his direction, but he instinctively steps back. “Asher,” I plead, and a guilt-ridden smile stretches his lips as his shoulders dip.

“I’m sorry, Silver.”

I rear back, the items slipping from my grasp as anger gets the better of me. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I didn’t want your help anyway,” I snap before charging for the door. It swings open effortlessly, and before I know it I’m halfway back to the witches’ dorms, my heart thundering in my ears, but what hurts the most is the pain in my chest when no one chases after me.

Surviving is a solo game here. I have to remember that.