Page 29 of Savage Sacrifice (The Savage Six #4)

POLARIS

T ucked away in the nearest bathroom, I sit on the vanity, legs dangling over the side, swinging back and forth slightly as Bryony mixes a few different essences before me.

I’m sure I could wake up in the morning and return to my usual self, but I’ve spent more than enough time in a skin that isn’t my own.

Before I get between the sheets and pass out, I want to look, feel, and be myself.

It’s just the two of us.

Two witches.

Well, one witch and one former witch who died but still lives to see another day.

Have I tried, though?

Her pouch of sand sits on the other side of the sink, making my fingers itch at my side, but as much as the thought lingers, what weighs heavier is the fact that she hasn’t made eye contact with me since she finally came inside.

I rake my eyes over her as I clear my throat, but even that doesn’t pull her stare to mine. “Is everything okay, Bryony?”

She pauses, hands poised above the vial before her as she sighs heavily. “I’m okay.”

I raise a brow at her. “Are you sure? You don’t seem fine,” I push, and she nods.

“I am.”

My lips purse as my eyebrows pinch in confusion. “Is that why you were hiding outside earlier, and why you haven’t looked at me since we came in here?”

Her gaze finds mine—finally—and her lips set in a thin line before her head dips once again.

“It’s nothing for you to worry about. I’m overwhelmed with coven stuff and I didn’t want to bring that up in front of you,” she mutters, and although I sense a hint of truth in her words, I know there’s more to it.

My lips part, ready to push a little further, but she waves me off, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she lifts the vial between us.

“A few sips of this and you’ll be back to your usual self.”

I rub my lips together, considering my options, and a yawn tingles at my throat, confirming just how exhausted I am, so I opt to give her the out she’s seeking. Today has been heavy enough. This can wait until tomorrow.

“Thank you,” I breathe, wasting no time bringing the dark brown bottle to my lips.

I cringe, prepared for something awful, but to my surprise, it tastes like water. A shiver runs down my spine as soon as I place the vial on the counter beside me, and I slip off the vanity, turning to see my reflection with a content smile.

My silver hair is back in place, the freckles are gone, and my blue eyes are shimmering back at me. Unfortunately, they’re framed by puffy lids, reconfirming the exhaustion that clings to my limbs.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” Bryony breathes, running from the room a moment later, making sure I can’t quiz her any further.

Heading in the same direction, I falter in the doorway when Tatum appears, a tired, lopsided grin on his face when his eyes find mine. I fall into him, wrapping my arms around his middle as he drapes his around my back, enveloping me in his warmth.

“Hey,” he breathes, and I hum against his chest. “I was hoping I could steal you for the night. I don’t think I can settle without you by my side,” he admits, making my heart ache, and I nod.

“Sure, I just want to check on Blaze before I pass out,” I admit as I lean back, and he smirks at me as he takes my hand, leading me toward the stairs.

“Come on, I’ll show you where he’s sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” I clarify in surprise, and he snickers.

“He was definitely high as hell off your blood, and he hit the deck two minutes after you scurried away in there with Bryony,” he explains as he stops by the first door at the top of the stairs.

It creaks open to reveal a sleeping form on the bed, and I recognize my vampire immediately.

“Are you sure he’s going to be okay?” I ask, and he nods.

“Yes, he’s just spent from healing me,” he states, running a hand through his hair, and I let the weight of the world dissolve from my shoulders.

Releasing Tatum’s hand, I hurry into the room, pressing a soft kiss to Blaze’s temple, managing not to disturb him before I rush back to the door. With it closed behind us, I follow Tatum into the room across the hall.

Lincoln, Asher, and Wylder will be checking on the rest of the pack, still out exploring in the dead of night, while Minnie was using the en-suite attached to her room when Bryony came to help me.

Tatum closes the door behind us as I pause in the center of the room, staring at the new space with tired eyes.

A navy comforter covers the double bed to my left, and the soft gray headboard harmonizes with the walls so well that I can barely tell where it begins and ends.

He moves to the right, where white doors lead to a small closet, and wastes no time in grabbing a t-shirt from the top of a pile.

It’s in my hands a moment later, along with a kiss to my forehead.

Muttering my thanks, I let the silvery dress pool at my feet, along with my lingerie, before I slip into the offered t-shirt. I sigh at the softness against my skin as it falls mid-thigh, folding my arms over my chest for a moment as I breathe him in.

Tatum takes a seat at the foot of the bed, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts now, which is little more than what he had on earlier, but enough for things to feel a little more normal, I guess. A soft smile curls his lips as he offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him tug me into his lap.

I curl my arms around his neck, legs dangling over his as I nestle my face against his shoulder.

It feels like an eternity passes as I sit cradled in his arms. The comfort of his embrace soothes me after tonight’s events, but something lurks at the corner of my mind, refusing to let me relax, as much as I want to.

“The coins,” I breathe. There’s a question there somewhere, I just haven’t quite placed it. Not that it matters to Tatum, he understands me better than I do myself.

“We realized one had changed when you…”

“Sacrificed myself,” I murmur, understanding where he’s going. I lean up off his shoulder, meeting his gaze as a tight, sad smile claims his lips.

“Exactly. AND after we left you in Florida, Lincoln in tow, we realized there was a second one that looked different too,” he adds, and I nod, letting the facts settle in my gut.

“Because he sacrificed himself for me,” I guess, and he hums in agreement. “So we all have to harm ourselves?” I clarify, worry forming a knot in my stomach, but the crinkling in his eyes tells me I’m not quite right.

“Not specifically,” he states, wiping a hand down his face before resting it in my lap.

“What makes you say that?” I push when he doesn’t immediately expand, and his smile grows tight.

“I didn’t sacrifice my life for another to change, and neither did Blaze. Well, not like you and Lincoln, but our actions tonight seem to be the ones to have changed the other two coins,” he explains, and despite my best efforts, my tired brain can’t make it all compute.

“I don’t understand.”

He nods, his gaze drifting from mine for a few moments, and I bite my tongue, giving him a moment to think.

“Do you know why Linc has been so intent on figuring out the curse?” he blurts, catching me by surprise, and I shake my head.

“Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to do what was needed when the time came regarding the blood kin curse. ”

My chest aches for him. “Tatum,” I breathe, and he strokes his hand over my thigh, comforting me when I’m trying to soothe him.

“The fear of killing someone has been awful,” he admits, and I place my hand on top of his.

“But you did it,” I whisper, recalling the state of Finch earlier, and he grunts.

“Yeah, but not for me, for Blaze.”

It takes me a moment to arrange the pieces of the puzzle, and when it finally comes together, a gasp escapes my lips. “You sacrificed your greatest fear to protect someone else.”

“Yes,” he replies with a gulp. “And he sacrificed his blood to heal me, a wolf, something he would never have done if it wasn’t for you,” he adds, making my pulse flutter at my neck. “Now we just have two left,” he murmurs, a hum lingering in the air before he adds. “Two savages to go.”

“They’re really for us? The coins, I mean?” I ask, running my tongue over my bottom lip.

“Yes.” I saw the new engravings on the precious metal earlier. They’re really no longer the same now. It fills me with a hope, so much damn hope, that I feel like we can achieve this if I’m a witch or not. “This is all heavy. You need to rest.”

With me in his hands, he somehow manages to shuffle us back on the bed, kicking the sheets down before my hair is spread over the pillow and my body is horizontal beside his. The second my face is pressed against the soft pillow, my brain comes alive.

I hate it when this happens.

Exhausted to the point of passing out, yet the moment I lie down, my mind comes alive. My brain attempts to refocus on every worry, every open-ended spiral or anxious thought. It threatens to debilitate me.

Tatum rearranges us, swooping his arm beneath me so I can rest my cheek against his chest. I hug my arm around his middle, breathing him in in an attempt to find the tendrils of sleep once again. He ghosts his fingers through my hair, silently lulling me as I clear my throat.

“I think it was nice tonight to let our hair down, but it’s like sticking a Band-Aid over a gaping wound,” I mutter, and he hums in agreement again.

“Tomorrow, or later today, I guess, we need to figure it out. We can’t be doing all of this without an actual purpose and focus.”

“Agreed,” I murmur, thankful we’re on the same wavelength. Sighing, I snuggle in closer to his side. “Switching my brain off to fall asleep is a different task altogether,” I grumble, and his hand pauses at my hair, the tip of his finger stroking over my shoulder instead.

“I can help with that.” His voice is huskier, making my thighs clench.

“Yeah?” I breathe, tilting my head back to meet his heated stare.

“Yeah,” he repeats, and my finger curls around his upper arm, anticipation clawing through me.