Page 3 of Savage Desire (The Savage Six #2)

3

WYLDER

S weat beads down my spine and gathers at my temples as I lose myself to my routine.

Lift. Breathe. Lift. Breathe. Ride out the burn. Repeat.

Set after set, my muscles flex and burn, fueling the adrenaline that I live by every day. Every lift ignites my heart, reminding me who I am and what I stand for. Although, just like a lot of days lately, my mind wanders to a silver-haired little witch that is doing nothing short of turning my life upside down.

But I have to focus. I have a fight on Friday that has to take paramount priority over everything else, sexy silver hair included.

Reaching my rep target, I push myself further, drawing out another ten before I set the dumbbells down and shake my arms out. Dropping down onto the bench, I blindly reach for my water, relishing the cold bite against my hand as I unscrew the lid and down the entire contents at once.

My eyelids fall closed as I take a deep breath, and the familiar flash of silver plays in my mind.

Polaris.

Fuck .

Last night was an absolute mess. There's no denying that. But none of us really knew what to say or do the moment Polaris hightailed it out of there with Bryony as her guide.

The moment I realized Lincoln and Polaris were missing, I knew exactly why. At the time, I was grinning from ear to ear, excitement bubbling through my veins while the essence of the woman in question still lingered on my fingertips.

I can’t explain what she’s doing to me, but she’s under my skin regardless. Seeing Lincoln unravel at her presence lit me on fire, especially when we could all see the intrigue coming from Tatum too.

Tatum. Our silent brother. Our lost soul. The one who walks around with his head down, avoiding the pains of the world while carrying the scars from his past. His eyes were open all of a sudden, and they were fixated on Polaris.

Asher seems indifferent. Then again, he always is. Lincoln may be our alpha, but Asher has his own problems to deal with. Problems I probably don’t even know the half of, which means he’s walking around in his own bubble.

I don’t know why I like the idea of us being infatuated with Polaris, it’s not like I’m searching for someone to fill an unnecessary void or anything, but she’s drawn me under her spell. Right up until last night.

That’s a lie. Even now she has me under her spell.

There are now just more layers to her. I shouldn’t be surprised by the fact, but I am. We all are.

We’ve been eerily silent over the matter since we returned to campus. It seems no one really knows what to say. Although, the furious look on Minnie’s face is a telling sign. One that confirms to everyone that she's probably not on our side. Not that there are sides. Sides aren’t necessary.

But the way Polaris ran, the look on her face, like she was sprinting to save her life… that told a different story.

The coin. It was a surprise for sure. What it stands for is even tougher to comprehend, but it’s not for us to judge.

Sighing, I stand, refusing to repeat the same thought process that’s been playing on a loop in my mind all night. I reach for my towel, swiping at my face as I head for the staircase, ready to get out of the basement and back up to the wolf dorm.

I flick the light off on my way out and the second I place my foot on the first step, shouting booms from above. I'm all too familiar with those voices, and I'm not ready for the fallout that's going to come.

Trudging upstairs, I take two at a time to find Lincoln and Asher in a stare off while Tatum stands with his hands stuffed in his pockets, head darting back and forth between the two.

“What do you mean you gave it to Bryony?” Lincoln growls, but Asher just shrugs, unfazed.

“I don't know how else you want me to say it to you, Lincoln. I gave the coin to Bryony to pass on. What don't you understand?”

Lincoln tugs at his hair, his face reddening with a mixture of disbelief and anger.

Great.

“Fuck. What in the shitstorm is going on?” I growl, earning a worried look from Tatum while the other two ignore me, too caught up in the moment to hear anything beyond each other.

Lincoln aims an accusing finger at Asher. “You had no right.”

Asher shakes his head in disbelief at our alpha. “It. Is. Not. Ours,” he insists, biting each word through clenched teeth, and Lincoln scoffs.

“I don't care. It's not hers either.”

“Whose?” I ask, having an inkling of who they’re talking about, but my priority is to try and diffuse. It’s no surprise that I go unheard by Lincoln, but thankfully, Asher is kind enough to acknowledge my existence.

“Well, definitely not Bryony’s,” he grumbles, turning to look at me. “But she'll pass it on to the rightful owner. Am I wrong?” He turns his attention to Tatum, looking for a nod of agreement, but Lincoln grunts before anyone else can say anything.

“But Polaris isn't the owner,” Lincoln insists, and Asher sighs, shaking his hands at his sides as he searches for the strength to deal with our brother.

“Says who?” Asher pushes, cocking a brow at him.

“Says me.” Lincoln rages and Tatum snarls, his wolf brimming to the surface as he finally makes his presence known between them.

“You might be our alpha, but you're not a damn god and ruler to all, Lincoln,” Tatum grunts, and the man in question whips around to face his friend, disbelief etched into his features.

“You're taking his side.” The statement is barely more than a whisper, but the hurt is clear in Lincoln’s eyes.

“There are no sides unless you put them there,” Tatum insists, earning himself another scoff from Lincoln.

“So you're taking his side.”

I snicker, unable to process the playground bullshit I’m watching unfold before me. The slip from my lips finally earns me our alpha’s attention, but when he meets my stare, I’m certain he knows I’m not impressed with him either. Yet I don’t get to speak a word before Asher’s voice booms throughout the entryway.

“You're being dramatic and it's boring. When you're ready to have a real conversation, let me know,” he states before heading for the door, letting it slam shut behind him. The walls vibrate from the impact as silence descends over the space.

Well then.

Lincoln presses the bridge of his nose, attempting to take a few deep breaths before his eyes latch onto mine again. “What do you think of all this, Wylder?” he asks with his eyebrow cocked.

“Does it matter?” I retort, matching his stance and facial expression, which earns me a petulant eye roll.

“Obviously,” he grumbles, exasperated.

Standing taller, I roll my shoulders back as I glare at him, making sure to drive the point home. “Then stop acting like your thoughts and opinions are the only ones that count,” I grunt.

“I’m the Alpha.”

“You're an ass,” Tatum interjects, and I have to press my lips together to hide the smile as I give a pointed look to the man in question.

It must be true if it’s Tatum calling him out. That one small statement from him seems to soften Lincoln’s entire demeanor, soothing the tension rising in the room as he rolls his eyes again, except this time, it’s playful.

“You love my ass, though, right?” Lincoln says, turning slightly to pat his ass, and Tatum shakes his head.

“You owe him an apology,” he states, pointing at the door Asher stormed through, and Lincoln shrugs.

“Maybe.” Tatum folds his arms over his chest, glaring at our brother, who buckles under the sternness from the guy who never has anything to say unless he means it. “Fine, I'll say sorry at breakfast if we discuss last night.”

“What is there to discuss?” I ask, intrigued, because as much as last night was a mess, and has played on repeat in my mind, I don't know where to begin dissecting it, and I wasn't even part of half of it.

I mean, I was on the Log Flume, but it wasn't me who claimed the first droplets of her blood, the last true piece of her innocence.

“What do you mean? There's everything to discuss,” Lincoln grunts, pulling me from my thoughts again. “Like why did she have the coin to begin with? And why did learning of the origin of the coin release the bangles from her sigil?” He holds up his hand, listing off multiple points that we need to cover on his fingers, and I shrug.

“I don't know, maybe we should ask her,” I offer, and Tatum shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“By the looks of her last night, I don't think she knows either. She was scared and confused,” he explains, his words tainting the air as reality sets in and weighs on the room. We all saw the fear in her eyes last night.

Nodding, I edge closer to the reasonable one here. “You’re right. We're not going to get anywhere if we focus on that now. The bangles releasing gives her access to her powers, not her memories. We’re all in the dark and I’m guessing she wants answers just as much as we do,” I offer, and Tatum nods eagerly as I pat his shoulder. I grin, biting back the worry that threatens to consume me as I turn to a lighter approach. “Besides, she probably was scared of him, especially after being impaled by his dick. Lord knows what diseases she'll get from that,” I say with a snicker, pointing at Lincoln, who glares at us.

“Fuck off, man,” Lincoln grumbles.

“It seems you've done enough fucking,” Tatum adds, making it impossible to hold back the laugh burning in my chest.

Lincoln doesn’t seem to see the humor, though. “It won't happen again,” he retorts, lip curling in distaste.

My eyes widen in surprise. “It won’t?” I ask, hoping he’ll clarify.

“No.”

“Well, speak for yourself,” I insist, ready to leave this conversation and get ready for the day. Hopefully I can have a clear view of the woman in question across the dining hall today. I don’t make it five steps toward the stairs leading to my room before his words stop me in my tracks.

“We're having nothing to do with her now,” he states slowly, yet firmly.

My gaze snaps to Tatum first, seeing the same surprise on his face that I feel inside. “Again, speak for yourself,” I insist before heading upstairs, my answer final, and thankfully, no one follows after me to push the issue.

As I rush through the process of showering and getting dressed for the day, all I can think about is the silver-haired witch who won’t stop plaguing my thoughts, keeping my dick hard. Even under the spray, there’s no time for me to give it the attention it deserves. Instead, I squeeze the base, willing the desire to ease up for now, but I know it’s blue balls I’m going to be walking around with all day.

I want to feel the ecstasy of release rush through my veins, but more than that, I want to see her with my own eyes first. Especially after last night. I’m not touching myself while thinking about her until I’ve had the pleasure of tasting her on my tongue again. The vow to myself is an instant regret by the time I’m dressed and barreling down the stairs two at a time.

Tatum and Lincoln are pretty much exactly where I left them, waiting for me without a word. The three of us step outside and the fresh air is like heaven against my skin. My wolf preens inside of me, appreciating the glow, but it still does nothing to calm the outline of my cock beneath my sweatpants.

There's no denying that my footsteps are a little quicker than normal today as we head over to the dining hall, eager to set eyes on my little witch. The second I step inside, it's not the wolf table I'm interested in, nor the group of vampires beside it. It's the witches’ table that immediately draws my attention, but the usual flash of silver hair that I've become accustomed to is nowhere to be seen. My steps slow, so slow that Lincoln and Tatum leave me in their wake as they find their seats, but I’m too distracted, unable to find her among the crowd.

By the time I’m at my seat, I’ve managed to find Bryony at the far end of the witches’ table, but Polaris isn’t in her usual spot beside her.

“You're obsessed,” Lincoln grumbles, but I ignore him. There's no use in arguing, not when I can't deny it. Especially when this girl is fucking with me.

I feel exposed with her near, and ever more bare without her. I've gone from my weakness being the raw vulnerability of getting a swift kick to the balls to it now being her.

“She's hiding,” Asher states from his spot a few seats down, and I grunt.

“No shit, asshole,” Lincoln interjects, still not over the shit storm from earlier, but I continue to ignore him. “Besides, it's best if she does,” he adds, and Asher shakes his head.

“It’s not,” he mutters, eyes downcast as he digs into his food.

“Someone has to go and talk to her,” Minnie declares, addressing us for the first time as all our eyes hone in on her.

“What a great idea from a great candidate,” I blurt, raising my brow at her. She'd be perfect for the job, but she quickly dismisses my idea with a swift shake of her head, putting a pin in my genius recommendation.

“Not me. You fuckers did this, you can fix it. And you better fix it. That’s my friend. She has enough shit going on in her life and I swear to all that is holy I will not allow you fucktards to make it any worse. Now, buckle the fuck up and grow a pair of balls. You have until the end of the day.”