Page 113 of Savage Torment

“You need to decompress, Little Witch.”

I shake my head. “No, what I need is to understand all of the things. My emotions are driving me insane, and trying to regulate myself is nearly impossible,” I rattle off, taking a deep breath as I narrow my gaze at the coins, deliberately avoiding eye contact with any of them.

I might not be stressed about the upcoming assembly, which is really weird, but this… unsettles me.

“What you need is to ground yourself,” Lincoln states, and my desire to avoid eye contact disappears as I tilt my face in his direction, eyebrows raised to my hairline, blinking at him in surprise. He’s always one for orders, but never like this. It’s usually something that gives me a headache, not being… nice?

I offer him a tight smile as I gulp and find the right words to respond. “That’s easier said than done,” I finally murmur, cautiously. He rolls his shoulders back, giving me a pointed look, as if he’s bracing himself, then runs his tongue over his bottom lip, tilting his head slightly as he stares deep into my eyes. It’s on the tip of my tongue to urge him to spit it out, but he beats me to it.

“If you had a coven, Midnight,” he begins, and I shake my head.

One little word has me tumbling over the edge. I wipe my hands down my face, trying to avoid the disappointment as I exhale sharply. “I’ve had enough of being told I need a fucking coven,” I snap, frustrated, and I try to step back, but Blaze doesn’t give me space to move. If anything, his arms tighten around my waist, locking me in place. Only then does he shuffle us back a step so Lincoln can maneuver himself until we're eye to eye.

The vampire is aiding the wolf.

I’ve seen everything now.

“I prefer it when you two don’t work together,” I grumble, and there’s a hint of amusement in Lincoln’s gaze as he shakes his head at me. It only lasts a second before a seriousness washes over him, as if it was a figment of my imagination.

“What if it were us? What if we were your coven?” His words linger in the air as he tilts his head to the side, and my frown deepens as I try to process what he’s truly saying.

When he cocks his brow at me, all the pieces fall into place, sending my heart rate skyrocketing as I gasp, instantly shaking my head. “You don’t know what you’re saying,” I rasp, and his lips twitch with amusement. Another confusing sight from the wolf that loves to hate me.

“Don't I?” he breathes, cupping my chin as he looks deep into my eyes. All I can do is gape at him. As if sensing my turmoil, he exhales slowly. “You have the night to decide,” he states, confidence oozing from him as if he knows what my answer will be, while I continue to blink up at him in disbelief.

“Lincoln,” I breathe, and he shakes his head, gripping my jaw tighter as pain shimmers in his gaze.

“Minnie, you, me, hell… even Bryony, Ben, and Blaze. We could all be gone by the end of the week. Shit, maybe onlyhalf of us will remain,” he states, and the fear I anticipate still doesn’t take hold in my veins. I feel delirious. “Dead or alive,” he murmurs, his eyes piercing as his breath flows across my lips while he leans closer. “You're still mine.”

I’m breathless, trapped between two deranged men, with three more watching our every move. Before I can even begin to wrap my head around the emotions swirling in my chest, Blaze exhales from behind me.

“Prove it,” he murmurs, two words whispered as a challenge, but not to me; to Lincoln.

“She's ours, and we're hers,” Wylder says, his eyes darkening as I glance to my left.

“We don't know what will happen this week. All we have is the present,” Tatum adds, earning himself a nod of agreement from the wolf beside him.

“I say we show her what a fucking coven is supposed to be,” Asher states, snapping my attention to my right where he holds my grimoire in his hands.

What in the?—

“Find the page,” Lincoln grunts, causing my jaw to scrape along the floor.

I’m speechless as I watch Asher effortlessly flip through the pages, quickly turning it so everyone else can see the worn contents as well.

“I already located it,” he explains, my gaze darting to his, but he’s too busy looking at the words inked in the pages. “All we have to do is touch her as we say this phrase.” He points to the page, refusing to say it out loud, and Blaze chuckles, his chest rumbling behind me.

“Or we fuck her and say it,” he offers. The lilt to his voice makes it clear he thinks he’s devised the best plan ever as his lips drag over my ear, making me shiver.

“Polaris?” Tatum breathes, capturing my attention. His eyes are hooded, his gaze nearly black as he speaks. “This is your five seconds to choose. We’ve already made our decision.”

I never thought this would be a possibility until we saw what the chalice had to offer. Despite the ups and downs and the turmoil these five men have caused me, they are still the five people I trust most in the world, along with Minnie and Bryony. However, this situation is different. I don't speak—I can’t—but I nod.

A single movement, and they work in tandem.

Lincoln’s gaze locks on mine as Blaze wraps his arms around my waist, shuffling backward while keeping me in his hold. I expect to feel my bed dip beneath me, but when it doesn’t happen, I glance over my shoulder to see Asher holding out the grimoire, assisting Wylder, who has my pouch of sand in his hand and is sprinkling grains over my bed to create the symbol displayed.

I watch in awe as he draws a circle around a five-point star, just like the one on Professor Juniper’s office floor; only this is different.

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