Page 116 of Savage Torment

The bite on my chest is now accompanied by another at my ankle, a third on my butt cheek, and a fourth at my throat.

I'm sure there will be something resembling Blaze mixed in somewhere too, but looking right now would require more energy than I have.

Blaze leans down, stroking his thumb over my cheek, a satisfied grin on his face. “We’re your coven now, Amica Mea,” he says, and I gaze up at him in wonder.

Wylder slaps him on the back and the widest smile I’ve ever seen spreads across his lips. “What’s our name?”

I frown, lost to the orgasmic afterglow I’m currently floating in as Lincoln scoffs.

“We’re too savage for a coven name,” he grunts, and Tatum hums, a gentle smile curving his lips as he brushes a loose tendril of hair back from my face.

“I think that makes us The Savage Six.”

36

POLARIS

Staring at my reflection, I feel like a new person.

Calm, collected, whole.

A smile clings to my lips, my eyes dazzling with a radiance I’ve never witnessed before, and the giddiness it generates is overwhelming.

Raking my eyes over the length of me, a shiver runs down my spine. Despite the fact that I'm wearing a pink sweater and a pair of jeans, I can sense the markings that lay hidden beneath. My ankle, my ass cheek, my breast, and my throat.

The latter is the most obvious, but the necklace that now hangs around my neck with a small red vial pendant—a gift from Blaze—does a good job of drawing the eye. My gut tells me I know what’s inside the vial, but asking would only make it real. I’ve accepted a lot in the past few days; the red contents of my pendant is not at the top of my list, especially now that classes are back in session.

The coins will have to wait as well, but only until after classes today. They need to be the top priority.

Curling a silver lock of hair behind my ear, I beam at my reflection as I stand confidently in front of the mirror like I’m really seeing myself. My bedroom door opens, pulling me frommy personal stare-off to watch Blaze saunter in. He’s naked from head to toe, rubbing a towel through his hair without a care in the world while I gape at him in surprise.

I shake my head in disbelief. “Did you actually just walk back here like that?” I ask, and he grins with a shrug.

“Yes.” He saunters over to the desk with the same breeziness with which he walked into the room, and all I can do is watch him get dressed. He seems to enjoy the audience, though—watching me watch him.

My cheeks heat but I don’t look away. I do, however, choose to redirect the atmosphere that’s heating between us. “Are you sure Ben is going to be safe here today?”

He nods. “I believe so, but it’s better if we still proceed with caution,” he says, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to remove the water droplets from the ends.

“Okay, well, I'm gonna give you a minute while I go check on him,” I murmur, but I don’t take a single step before he stops me in my tracks.

“I just checked, he’s sleeping. Besides, you’re not going anywhere. We’re going to face this day together,” he states, running his thumb over my cheek as he stares deep into my eyes, and I swoon.

“Okay.” I’m sure I shouldn’t be so easily agreeable, but here I am. He smiles at me before leaning closer to press a kiss to the corner of my mouth.

“Let’s go, Amica Mea,” he murmurs, swiftly slipping on his shoes before opening the door.

I stare at him in wonder for a moment before taking his extended hand and allowing him to usher me out of the room, backpack and all. Maybe this whole coven thing works miracles on them too, not just me, because who the hell is this nice guy right now?

The only way we'll ever truly know if this shift is because of the coven connection is if Lincoln pulls his head out of his ass too.

As if sensing my thoughts, the main door to the witches’ dorms opens as we reach the bottom step and the man in question appears.

“Midnight,” he breathes, his facial features almost soft compared to the usual sharp lines that accompany his barely contained rage. “Ready to eat?” he asks, and my stomach does the answering for me. A smirk spreads across his lips. “Silly question. It seems you're starving,” he muses, and I roll my eyes at him.

“Are you being sassy with me?” I ask, eyebrows raised in surprise, and he throws his arm around my shoulder, yet Blaze refuses to let go of my hand.

“I'm always sassy,” he states, steering us all toward the door, and I scoff.

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