Page 28 of Savage Sacrifice (The Savage Six #4)

POLARIS

I watch in horror as Tatum sways back a step, shifting from wolf to human as he crashes to the floor, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and I scream.

My throat burns as I launch to my feet, sidestepping The Crow’s outstretched hand before barreling toward my fallen wolf.

“You’re going to pay for this,” The Crow warns, but I don’t pay him any mind as I erase the distance between us.

Blaze is hovering above him before I get there, but he offers me enough space to drop to my knees beside Tatum’s face, stroking a curl of hair back from his forehead.

Cupping his cheek, I feel the stain of tears streaking across my cheeks as I whisper his name, but my pleas go unheard by the man I need to hear them the most. “No. No. No. No. No,” I chant, rubbing my thumb back and forth across his cheek as I sob.

“I love you, Tatum. Everything is going to be okay. It is, I promise,” I insist when another sob racks through my body.

Blaze wraps his hand around my wrist, trying to nudge me out of the way, but I’m too scared to leave his side. “Help him. Someone help him, please,” I cry, and Blaze wraps his other arm around my shoulders in comfort.

“Everyone inside,” Lincoln orders with wide, panicked eyes.

“Will he make it inside?” I blurt, too scared to let go of Tatum, even as Lincoln tries to lift him in the air.

“Let me,” Blaze interjects, pointing at the dagger protruding from his side closest to Lincoln. “We need to see what we’re dealing with. I’m going to manage that better inside, Amica Mea,” he breathes, and despite the churning in my gut, I lift my hands, pinning them to my chest to clear space.

Blaze doesn’t waste a moment, heaving him up into his arms, unfazed by his naked state, while Lincoln turns his full attention to me.

“Go with him, Midnight. I’ll be right behind you.

I’m just going to get the quivering coward to round up the others,” he states, pointing over his shoulder to where Bryony’s head is peeking out from behind the bar.

I frown, but quickly wave it off as I spin to catch up with Blaze, who is charging across the field with far more speed than I can muster. My feet ache as they pound across the ground, desperate to get to them.

Pushing through the front door, I dart through the open archway that connects the living room and kitchen just as Blaze sweeps the dining table clear before laying Tatum’s limp limbs on top.

Blood seeps from his side, the glint of silver making my chest ache tighter as I skid to a stop at his side, lacing my fingers with his in a vow of support that he isn’t even aware of.

A flash of white on the back of the chair beside me catches my attention, and I grab it with my free hand before shaking it to encourage the folds of material to unravel.

The small towel does little to cover his cock when I lie it over him, but it’s enough to offer him a little modesty.

Blaze scrubs at his chin as she stares intensely at the blade. Footsteps echo from behind me, and a moment later, Lincoln appears, rounding the table to stand across from me, hand nestled instinctively on Tatum’s shoulder.

He follows Blaze’s line of sight, shivering as he takes in the bite of silver that is hurting his friend.

“If I never see silver hanging out of someone I care about again, it will still be too soon,” he grunts before his eyes find mine, and I know he’s referring to seeing me in a similar situation.

I gulp, unable to manage a smile in any capacity with Tatum still out cold.

“Pull it,” he murmurs, and Blaze doesn’t waste a moment, grabbing the handle and moving swiftly.

I cringe at the crimson staining the metal, but quickly frown when I notice a weird color sitting between the silver and the red.

“What’s that?” I breathe, pointing a shaky finger at the item in question, and Blaze lifts it higher in the air, tilting it in the light before he grunts under his breath.

“Poison. Devil’s snare,” he grunts, nostrils flaring as he glances from the weapon to the wound at Tatum’s side. “It stains your blood, weakening it with every thud of your heartbeat until your body finally gives out.”

“What? No!” I blurt, terror clawing at my own ricocheting heartbeat as I clench Tatum’s hand tighter. “You have to bring him back. Someone has to make it stop,” I insist, and Lincoln swipes a hand down his face.

“It’s going to be okay, Polaris. He’ll just come back. We can find him through Belladora,” he promises, and I hate how casual it is for us to handle death, but despite Lincoln’s thoughts, Blaze shakes his head.

“We don’t know if that’s the case if you’re not yet wearing your blood kin mark,” he grunts, and any flickering of hope I just felt is gone again.

“Fuck,” Lincoln grunts, and I feel the tears tracking down my face again.

I run my eyes over Tatum, noting how shallowly his chest rises and falls with every breath, and it ignites the hysteria inside of me. My sobs grow louder, my need to touch him more frenzied as I try to wake him, but it’s to no avail.

“Stand with her,” Blaze grunts, presumably speaking to Lincoln, but I don’t lift my head to confirm. I do hear shuffling, though, and a moment later, there’s a hand on my arm. Lincoln’s hand.

Looking up through watery eyes, I find Blaze standing across from me now, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as his nostrils flare and his brows knit together.

His gaze flicks to mine for the briefest moment before he turns his attention to Tatum once again, only this time, he raises his forearm to his lips and sinks his teeth into his flesh a moment later.

I yelp in surprise, even though I’m not the one bleeding, and gape in a mixture of shock and horror as crimson droplets run down his arm. He doesn’t even look my way as he angles his arm so the droplets drip onto Tatum’s open wound.

My jaw hits the floor, my world frozen as I watch his every move, noting the way Tatum’s flesh slowly starts to knit together, healing.

Freaking healing.

“What the fuck?” Lincoln grunts, clearly just as surprised as I am, but Blaze continues to ignore us, staring at Tatum’s unresponsive form instead.

I follow his line of sight, and it takes me a few moments to realize that even though the wound has healed over, nothing more than a slightly pinkish tinge to his skin, his breathing seems even more shallow than before.

“It’s not working, is it?” I breathe, and Blaze shakes his head.

“Not fast enough,” he mutters, wiping a hand down his face, smearing the crimson droplets over his skin, but if he notices, he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“No, it can’t be too late,” Lincoln insists, the pain in his voice making my throat clog with more emotion as I feel the weight of the entire room crushing down on my shoulders. His grip on my arm is deadly, his panic clear.

Blaze grunts under his breath as he lowers his wrist to Tatum’s mouth. Red droplets coat his full lips as he remains unmoving, but Blaze persists, removing the last bit of space between them as he places his pierced skin against Tatum’s mouth.

My eyebrows are at my hairline, watching in slow motion as Blaze fights for Tatum, and that’s when I see it, a flutter. Just a flutter, but it’s enough.

“His breathing. Look at his breathing, it’s working!” I shout, my voice giving way as my emotions get the better of me.

Lincoln’s hold on my arm softens as I watch each breath grow deeper and deeper.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you,” I chant, eternally grateful to the vampire who has done nothing but work tirelessly to protect those around me that I care about.

The gray tinge to Tatum’s cheeks softens, the color rushing back through his body as he takes from Blaze. I look at my vampire, a frown instantly marring my face as I realize the color Tatum has gained has been lost from the man in question.

“Blaze,” I breathe, but he either ignores me or doesn’t hear me. The latter can’t be possible, I’m right here, so I call his name again. “Blaze!”

“Let him do his thing, Polaris,” Lincoln mutters calmly, running his fingers over my forearm with reassurance, but I shake him off.

“Let him do his thing? He’s going to kill himself to heal him,” I snap back, feeling lightheaded as I blink between the two of them.

“Oh, fuck,” Lincoln grunts, noticing the same thing as me, and Blaze chooses that moment to sway on his feet.

Squeezing Tatum’s hand, ready to let go so I can get to Blaze, I startle when he softly squeezes me back.

“He just responded to my touch,” I blurt, glancing from where we’re connected to where Blaze stands.

“He’s responding, Blaze. Stop now,” I insist, and his eyelashes flutter, the slightest acknowledgment that he’s heard me before he retracts his arm.

He sways on his feet and I quickly lift Tatum’s hand to my mouth, pressing the tiniest kiss to his knuckles before I release my hold on him and dart around the table, but I’m not fast enough. Blaze hits the floor with a thud .

I’m on my knees once again, beside one of my fallen men, and I think my heart is ready to shatter. I can’t take any more of this. I just can’t.

“Blaze,” I breathe, sweeping my thumb over his cheek, but he doesn’t respond.

“Polaris?” The rasp of my name is a question from the injured wolf hovering above me. His eyes find mine, calming my worry over him, but it does nothing to aid me now with Blaze.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Tatum. Just rest. You need rest. I’ve got this,” I insist, rushing to my feet as Lincoln stares helplessly at the limp vampire on the tiled floor.

Brushing my hair back off my face, I try to take a calming breath so I can think like Blaze. If I’m learning anything, it’s that he has the ability to act with calmness, and he always seems to find a way. That’s what I need to do right now.

I close my eyes, picturing him in my mind as I search for the slight pull inside of me that I know belongs to him—our connection.

Our connection.

I’m his devoted.

And he said?—

My eyes pop open just as the door at the other end of the house swings open with force, and Wylder, Asher, and Minnie all rush inside.

Thankfully, the three of them are wearing some form of clothing, but it’s clear that fear and panic fuel their every step.

Although, it eases the moment they see Tatum awake.

Minnie frowns, pointing between the wolf and the vampire as Lincoln rushes her, wrapping his arms around her a moment later. “I thought it was Tatum who was hurt,” she murmurs, and Lincoln hums.

“He was, then Blaze here went and drained himself to heal him.”

“He did?” Wylder says in surprise, and I nod, quickly remembering my idea.

“I need a knife!” I holler, and Asher’s eyebrows rise in question.

“A knife?” he repeats, and I nod.

“Quickly.”

His lips twist, but he doesn’t push the matter further, quickly grabbing one from the block on the kitchen counter and handing it to me.

I’m back on my knees a moment later, the silvery glint of the blade making me gulp as I hold it in my right hand and let the sharp edge rest against my left wrist.

“What the fuck are you doing, Little Witch?” Wylder blurts, but I ignore him, refusing to let anyone try to talk me out of it.

Instead, I slice the blade across my skin, wincing at the nip of pain as I hiss through the sting.

“Polaris,” Tatum breathes, so much worry in that one word, but instead of responding, I hover over Blaze and repeat the same motion I watched him do.

I press my bloody flesh against his lips.

I wait a second, one whole second before his eyes pry open, wild and feral as his hand wraps around my arm, pinning my wound to his lips.

There’s no delayed response like there was with Tatum; Blaze is right there, taking exactly what he needs.

Me.

He takes and he takes, but to my surprise, there’s no pain. If anything, when he runs his tongue over my wound, it sends a shiver down my spine.

“Isn’t that enough now, Mr. Bloodsucking Mozzy-Man?” Wylder grunts, and I remember we have an audience.

Blaze’s hold on me eases as he lifts my arm from his lips, and the wild, feral swirl in his eyes turns lax and calm as he grins up at me.

“Hey,” he says with a smile, and I shake my head in disbelief.

“Hey,” I manage, and his lips spread wider.

“What’s actually going on right now?” Tatum asks, and I glance over my shoulder to see the look of curiosity and concern flickering over his features.

“Oh good, he’s not dead,” Blaze mumbles, nodding at the wolf above us, and I shake my head in disbelief again.

There’s blood everywhere, a mostly naked wolf splayed on the kitchen table, and a delirious vampire flat on the floor.

Lincoln clears his throat, scrubbing the back of his head as he points a finger at Tatum. “He’s still a wolf, right?”

“Don’t worry, Captain Jackass, I didn’t bring him to the dark side,” Blaze promises, and if I didn’t know better I would assume he was drunk.

“Thank you,” Lincoln replies, releasing his sister to come closer and offer Blaze his hand.

It takes Blaze three attempts to grab it, and thankfully, the wolf helps him to his feet. He wobbles slightly, but the moment he’s stable, he’s bombarded with three more wolves as Minnie, Asher, and Wylder wrap their arms around him, mumbling their thanks, too.

I sag, relief rushing through my bones as I lean back against the kitchen table, when I feel a hand rest on top of mine. I follow the arm to find Tatum smiling softly at me.

“I don’t know about you all, but I need a stiff drink after that,” Minnie calls out, making her way to the liquor cabinet in the far corner.

“Where’s Bryony?” I ask, recalling the fact that Lincoln sent her to find them.

Minnie offers me a tight smile, her gaze flashing to the door she entered through. “She’s taking a minute. I think that was a lot for her, whatever it actually was, but regardless, I think she’s embarrassed that she did nothing.”

I nod in understanding because until I helped Blaze just now, I was doing nothing too.

Turning her attention to the array of liquor available, she frowns. “Who put the coins in here?”

Tatum clears his throat beside me. “I did.”

She nods, eyes scanning each of us as she clears her throat. “Well, two more of them are copper.”

“What?” I say with a gasp, noting I’m not the only one surprised when Blaze lifts his hands in the air in celebration.

“Four down, two of those little motherfuckers to go.”