Page 29 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)

29

POLARIS

M y heart pitter-patters as I stare in awe at his work. I can’t stop staring. I start at the top, slowly raking my gaze over every inch of his brilliance, then start all over again.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper, acutely aware that it’s me, but… he sees me in a different light. One that makes me believe it’s not truly me I’m complimenting anyway.

His hand rests at the small of my back while he stands a step behind me at his easel. Soft rock music continues to fill the room, just as it has for the past few hours. Even though we haven’t exchanged many words, I’ve never felt more relaxed. There’s a magic in his presence that I can’t describe, one that leaves me breathless and profoundly aware of every callous on his fingertips, even with the fabric of my sweater between us.

“I had the perfect muse to focus on,” he says, his breath whispering over my cheek as I hum, unable to find a suitable response.

“I can’t believe how talented you are. It’s everything,” I insist, peering up at him from the corner of my eye before turning my attention back to the easel.

I’m sitting with my legs crossed, hands loose in my lap, just as I had been on his bed, but in the drawing, I’m not sitting on the bed, I’m on a clifftop, high above the world. The shades around my face illuminate the rays of sun he’s worked on, making me appear even brighter with a smile on my lips. My loose hair flutters in his imaginary wind and I look… peaceful.

It’s a funny word, one that hits harder than hope ever has.

I’ve never known peace. Or if I have, I don’t have the grace of remembering, but in this image, it makes me feel like it’s possible.

“Thank you for being my distraction for the afternoon,” he murmurs, reaching for my hands to turn me toward him, and when our eyes lock, we’re frozen in place. The air shifts around us, heating under his intensity as I nip at my bottom lip.

“Thank you for being my distraction too,” I offer, and he grins, tucking a loose tendril of hair behind my ear. His thumb ghosts over my cheek and I find myself leaning back as he edges forward until our lips are nothing more than a breath away.

I don’t know who moves first, but in the next moment, the distance between us is gone, our mouths melding together with a sharp inhale. My fingers find their way into his hair and the desire to see it fall loose around his shoulders is almost overwhelming, but as our chests press together, a knock sounds from his bedroom door.

“Fuck,” he rasps, tearing his lips from mine, but he doesn’t pull away immediately. Instead, he leans his forehead against mine, taking a second to catch his breath.

Fuck indeed.

“You should get that,” I mutter, my hands slipping from his hair only to curl into the fabric of his t-shirt. It seems my mind understands we’ve been interrupted, but my body hasn’t entirely caught up yet.

“I should,” he mutters, leaning back just enough to look in my eyes, but still, neither of us move. I’m lost to his intense stare and the sheer size of his pupils as he watches me, so when the knock rings out again, I startle, jumping slightly and causing us to butt heads.

“Fuck. I’m so sorry,” I groan, hand on my head as I try to blink through the pain, and he grunts, standing tall with a surprisingly soft smile.

“It’s not you that should be apologizing, Polaris. It’s whoever is on the other side of this door,” he grumbles, trudging toward the sound as another knock comes, and my racing heart spikes for an entirely different reason when he swings the door open to reveal my least favorite person right now. Or top five. Maybe. I think.

“Not now, Asher,” Tatum grumbles, playing with the neckline of his t-shirt as Asher glances back and forth between us.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, I just…” He swipes a hand down his face, desperation clear in his eyes as they lock on me. “Please, can we talk?”

I’m shaking my head from the moment he says please, and I hurry to grab my bag, hiking it over my shoulder as I head for the door. Panic claws in my veins as I approach the pair of them, but as I get closer, they take a step back, clearing the doorway for me to pass. I stop just inside the threshold, turning my attention to Tatum.

“I’m sorry, Tatum. Thank you, but… this is my cue to leave,” I mumble, and he nods in understanding.

“It’s not, I?—”

“Shut up, Asher. Just give her space,” Tatum interjects, a deathly glare on his face as he stares at his friend, who sighs.

“Space isn’t going to keep The Crow away,” Asher retorts, desperation thick in his voice, and I whirl around to face him.

“I’m not talking to you about this right now,” I state, stepping out into the hallway, and he moves to follow after me.

“We need to.”

“No, we needed to this morning. We’ll continue this conversation when I’m ready,” I snap back, and he rushes to block the staircase off.

“And when will that be? You can’t bury your head in the sand over this,” he insists, and it’s my turn to sigh. I know what he’s saying is true, but he’s not in control of this situation now. I gave him the opportunity this morning and he gave me nothing.

I glance back to look at Tatum, and the second I do, he’s stomping toward us. “Don’t worry, Polaris. You go, I’ll stay here and beat some sense into him for you,” he offers with a wink, and I grin.

“Thanks, I appreciate it,” I mutter, side-stepping the wolf in front of me, and to my complete shock, he lets me go.

I’m halfway down the stairs when their voices go from hushed whispers to a holler.

“Silver, at least let someone walk you back,” Asher calls out, hanging over the bannister, and I shake my head, waving them off without a backward glance.

I hold my breath with every step I take, only sucking in a sharp inhale when I make it outside unscathed. Not willing to risk being stopped by someone else, I hightail it down the woodchip path and scurry across the sand to the witches’ dorm.

I can feel someone watching me, but at least they’re keeping their distance. I head inside without issue and hurry up the stairs two at a time to my room. As I make it to my hallway, my cell phone pings in my bag and I dig into the confines of my belongings to find it as I slip inside my room, pushing the door shut before leaning back against it.

Bryony: Sorry I’ve been MIA today. Coven business. Want to grab some food soon?

I twist my lips, staring down at my cell phone as I consider my options, but before I can tap out a reply, a voice fills the room, making me leap two feet in the air.

“Polaris?” I balk, eyes snapping across the room. “Thank God you’re here. I was worried about you.” I blink and blink again, sure I’m hallucinating right now, but then he rises from the foot of my bed, a tired smile on his face as he stares me down. “P, are you okay?”

I nod, still bewildered as I breathe his name.

“B?”

I shake my head back and forth, my eyes drying from the strain of refusing to blink again in case he disappears. He stands before me, every inch the guy he was at Florentine’s, except instead of our God-awful uniform, he’s wearing a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a plain white tee. His hair has grown, curling around his ears, but the most concerning difference is the darkness in his eyes.

He was always fun, happy, and free-spirited, but now he looks… sad. It’s a three letter word I’m more than familiar with. He tilts his head at me, rocking back on his heels nervously. “P, are you—” My initial on his tongue finally spurs me into action and I dart toward him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as I pull him in for a brief but calming hug.

I lean back, hands planted on his shoulders as I gape at him in disbelief. “B… I mean Benjamin. Is Ben okay? Fuck, nevermind. I… Where… What?” A haunted giggle parts my lips as he blinks down at me, confusion swirling in his eyes, and I quickly drop my hands to my sides.

“I’m sorry I showed up here like this, it’s just… when you didn’t come earlier I…”

I frown at him, my veins running cold as I lift a trembling finger between us.

“Didn’t come?” I repeat, my brows furrowing deeper and deeper as I try to make sense of his words.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concern etched into his features as I scoff.

“Are you?” I retort, trying to figure out which one of us is crazy right now.

He scrubs a hand through his long shaggy hair. “I was fine until you didn’t show, and then I was worried,” he states, and I shake my head.

“No, B. I… I’ve been looking for you the entire time since we got here. I would know if I had found you, nevermind agreeing to meet you,” I splutter, and he stiffens.

“Polaris, I’ve seen you three times now.”

I rear back at his words like he’s slapped me across the face. The usual heat that lives in my cheeks drains, along with the rest of the color in my face as a chill runs down my spine. “That’s not possible,” I breathe, and he quirks a brow at me.

“Why are you acting like this? You’re making it sound like I’m lying,” he grunts, his words a little more terse now, and I shake my head, lifting my hands in surrender.

“I’m not saying you, I’m just, three times? I haven’t… I don’t… You know what, never mind, we’re getting off topic. Are you okay? Where have you been?” I ask, reaching out a hand to squeeze his arm in support, but he darts back out of reach, his eyes suddenly wide with panic.

“We’ve been through this already,” he whispers, his words light yet weighed down with disbelief.

Panicking, I rub my lips together before I exhale. “You’re going to have to refresh my memory,” I murmur, forcing a bright smile, but his gaze only narrows.

“You came with him.”

I still, searching his eyes deeper, but he’s looking at me as confused as I feel. “Him? Who?”

His lips part, but nothing comes out. He swipes a hand over his mouth, taking a deep breath before he tries again, but the look of bewilderment only grows stronger. “I can’t remember,” he admits, and my chest tightens.

“A vampire,” I state, and his nose twitches.

“A vampire?” he repeats, like that’s not jogging his memory, but why else would neither of us remember who he’s referring to and how else would I not know what the hell he’s talking about right now. B is here. He’s right here declaring that we’ve seen each other three times already and I have no recollection? That’s impossible.

But then… I’ve woken up confused and alone three times since arriving here. Is that where I’ve been going? What I’ve been doing?

Holy fuck.

“Could it be Terence or Sian, maybe?” he mutters, and I shake my head.

“You said he, so that rules out Sian, and Terence hasn’t unlocked his sigil yet, or that I’m aware of at least,” I explain. “Besides, I haven’t seen him since…” My thoughts trail off as I recall the last time I saw him. The bruises, the beating, the wolf responsible.

Fuck.

“Since what?” B asks, and I scoff.

“That’s another story entirely. Definitely not one for now. Can you clarify what you prefer to be called?” I add, and he rakes his fingers through his hair again, tighter this time, like it’s impossible to hide his irritation.

“What’s going on, Polaris?” he bites, and I wince.

“Fuck if I know,” I admit, wanting to console him somehow, but he’s vibrating with tension and I don’t want to make it worse. “What do we do?” I ask, hoping to put the ball back in his court so he relaxes, but it seems to have the opposite effect as he starts pacing by my bedroom door.

“I don’t know… I don’t… I need to get out of here,” he blurts, grabbing the door handle, and I rush toward him.

“No, you need to stay and we need to figure this out. I don’t remember seeing you, I don’t remember anything at all. That’s strange, don’t you think?” I plead, planting my palm against the door in a feeble attempt to stop him from leaving, but he opens it with little effort.

“This whole fucking place is strange,” he groans, his eyes so dark they’re almost black from corner to corner.

“Are you doing okay?”

“You keep asking me that,” he bites, his nostrils flaring as his hand white-knuckles around the doorknob.

“And you’re still not giving me an answer,” I retort, my own desperation getting the better of me as he hangs his head.

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he breathes, stepping out into the hallway, and I hurry after him.

“B, wait,” I beg, but it’s too late.

He’s gone.