Page 35 of Savage Torment

“Don’t make me command it again, Midnight.”

The warning is clear, her fingers speed up, drawing tight circles around her clit six times before her eyes roll to the back of her head and her pussy squeezes my cock desperately. Her release coats my length, ecstasy firing through my veins as she pulses around me, but before I do something I’ll regret, I pull out. A red sex-induced haze clouds my vision as my dick pulses, but before the first spray releases, I grab the black fabric to my right, catching every ounce of my release as I groan.

Silence clings to the air, our ragged breaths the only sound as we come down from the highest of highs, greeted far too quickly with reality as I look at the material in my hands.

Slipping my cock away, I adjust myself and stand, looking down at Polaris’s wrecked form on the floor. Her eyes are on mine in the mirror still, understanding clear on her face as I hold the fabric covered in my cum.

“I’ll destroy everything he offers you, Midnight. Luckily for you, this was something as simple as a jacket.” I let it fall at my feet, stepping over her as the rage quickly settles in my gut again. It’s no longer tainted by the desire I have for her. Not for now at least.

“Don’t go.” Her words are nothing more than a breath of air as I reach her bedroom door, freezing me in place as my heart thunders in my chest. I don’t say anything, but I don’t move either, prompting her to call out my name. “Lincoln.”

I glance back over my shoulder. To do what, I don’t know, but she must sense the walls are back in place because she stands, making no effort to hide herself from me as she sighs.

“If you leave, this is it. It’s the last time because I can’t do this with you anymore. I’m supposed to be strengthening myself so I can try and fucking survive this place, but you’re tearing me down time and time again.”

Her words are like bullets straight to my heart, but the door handle turns in my grasp.

“I mean it, Lincoln. I swear it,” she promises, but I don’t see the anger in her eyes because I turn away, stepping over the threshold and letting the door swing shut behind me.

A scream haunts me from the other side of the wood, leaving me to wonder what the fuck I’ve just done.

11

POLARIS

Dear Diary,

Men are dumb. Like, dumb dumb.

Why do I like assholes? I’m starting to think it’s a me issue and not a them issue because I can’t help but attract them, but worse than that, I crave their attention.

They’re not all assholes, but the balance is real.

I joked that Blaze could give Lincoln a run for his money when it came to his attitude, but it seems Lincoln is hot on Blaze’s heels for doing what he pleases without actually considering my feelings.

Knowing everything I know now, as jumbled as it still is, I think it’s clear to see that our lives are even more entangled than any of them could imagine. Especially Tatum and Blaze; they both hold the same coin I do.

It feels important, and I think I need to talk to one of them about it. Maybe Tatum, he’s the safer option. Either way, I’ll be sure to be back here tonight to report whether I’ve had to knee anybody in the balls or not.

Polaris x

Setting my diary on my nightstand, I exhale slowly, trying to gain control over my rambling thoughts. I was hoping writing something down would help clear them, but it seems I’m not at the root cause yet because I’m still a mess. Maybe that’s more to do with the ache that lingers between my thighs than anything else, but I refuse to dwell on that fact. Not after I gave Lincoln an ultimatum and he left regardless.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I should regret trying to force his hand, but I can’t deal with the games any longer. I’m more than just my body, and that’s all he seems to want.

Desperation and frustration cling to my thoughts, forcing me from my bed and over to my armoire. I don’t look at my reflection as I pull out my clothes, the visual that played in the mirror last night is still too vivid for me to unsee it.

Choosing a pair of leggings and a tank top, I opt for an oversized sweater to finish off the ensemble, aware I’ve got combat this morning. Maybe the exercise will help me.

I twist my silver locks into a bun and secure it in place on top of my head, instantly remembering I could have gone with something prettier if I had used my magic. I could blame my brain fog, but it’s no excuse. I’m still adjusting to being a witch, but since there’s still so much else going on, it’s not getting my full attention.

My gaze finally latches on my reflection and I stand up taller, nodding at myself as I silently vow to do better. I’ve said it a million times already, but after Lincoln left last night, I’m back to being reminded that I can’t keep putting others at the top of my priority list if I’m not on theirs.

I’m going to survive this place if it’s the last thing I do. It’s time to start being selfish. I don’t know why I stopped. Maybe it was the attention, maybe it was the idea of friends, or maybe… there are far too many ‘maybes’ to consider and I just need to focus on the facts.

I’m a witch—a mind witch—and I better start acting like one.

Reaching for my sand, I take a pinch and whisper the words along my tongue, watching as my hair unravels, twisting into a neat French braid running down my back. Satisfied, I tuck my pouch of sand into my pocket and reach for my bag. My grimoire weighs it down, but the pull against my shoulder as I secure the straps in place works as a reminder of what is important today.

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