Page 49 of Savage Torment

We bustle inside and I take the stairs two at a time, hurrying down the hallway to my door. I sweep it open and kick it shut just as quickly, sagging back against the wood with a languid sigh. My stress levels have definitely lessened as the day has gone on, but I suppose an orgasm will do that. Not just any orgasm either, one at Tatum’s hands.

My cheeks heat at the thought as I push off the door and head toward my bed, barely making it two steps before I come to a halt.

Panic floods my veins as I stare at the sheets, and as much as I try to gulp down the terror, I end up choking on air. My instincts take over and I react without thought, pulling my cell phone from my backpack and opening up the messages.

Polaris: I’ve had a visitor.

I wait with bated breath, staring at the device in my hand instead of the item nestled on the center of my bed. Thankfully, my cell phone vibrates immediately.

Asher: I’m on my way.

I should be embarrassed messaging so quickly, unable to handle the situation alone, but after the last time this happened… I’m confident I don’t yet have the skills to take care of this on my own.

Dropping my cell phone to my side, I peer at the glimmer of gold on my bed. Cautiously, I step toward it, fearful of getting too close, as if it’s a ticking time bomb, when my cell phone vibrates again.

Wylder: Meet you there.

Oh God. There’s going to be more than one of them here. As if that wasn’t enough, another message pops up on the screen before I can decline any further help.

Tatum: Almost there.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck… three knocks rap on my door and I gulp. Frozen in place, uncertainty takes root. As if sensing my panic, a voice carries from the other side of the door.

“It’s me, Polaris,” Asher calls out, and I sag a little with reassurance.

Hurrying toward the door, I pause as I reach for the handle. Are there any magical abilities that could make someone sound like someone they’re not? In a roundabout way… is it actually Asher on the other side?

I run my palms down my thighs, sweat getting the better of me, and before I can come up with a better idea, I reach for my pouch of sand. Tugging at the string, I pour it into my hand, letting grains scatter to the floor as I clench my fist around them.

Taking a deep breath, I recall the witch’s class from earlier and close my eyes.

“Polaris? Are you there?” Asher calls out, knocking again, and he comes to life in my mind, a white wisp on the other side of the door. If there’s any ill intent, I’ll feel it, I hope, but there’s nothing but concern that greets me. I’m instantly reassured as another wisp joins the first, the same green color that lightly represents a hint of fear, and I pry my eyes open.

“Sorry,” I breathe, hurrying to the door. “I was just…” My words trail off as I find Asher and Wylder standing side by side, eyebrows gathered with worry as another two sets of footsteps hurry toward us.

The three of us glance down the hallway to find Tatum marching our way, with Lincoln grumbling at his side.

Great. Just… great.

“Where’s Minnie?” I ask, stalling, and Lincoln rolls his eyes.

“She’s with our mother,” he states, slipping through the gap at my side and entering my space once again without an invitation while I’m left nodding like a fool.

Tatum follows after him, squeezing my arm in support, while Wylder plants a kiss on my temple as he passes, leaving Asher and me to linger at the door for a moment.

“Did you tell anyone else?” he asks, and I shake my head, aware ofwhoexactly he’s referring to. “Words, Polaris.”

“No,” I murmur, and he nods, gripping my chin.

“Good girl.” The kiss he places at the corner of my mouth is feather-light. So light I could have imagined it because in the next moment he’s filtering into my room.

I sigh, closing the door as I turn to face the wolves now overcrowding my personal space. Clearing my throat, I walk around them and come to a stop by my nightstand, eyeing the golden object along with them. “I didn’t mean to haul you all over here, I just…”

“It’s the chalice. The one he felt would be useful for us,” Tatum explains, eyebrows gathered tight as Lincoln glares at him.

“She doesn’t need to know that.”

“She took a fucking arrow for it. She can know what she wants,” Tatum snaps back, surprising not just me but everyone else too.

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