Page 79 of Savage Torment

Foster refuses to move out of the way, but Wylder quickly sidesteps to place himself between me and the witch who hates me more than anyone else, and Foster quickly backtracks, clearing a path for us.

I hurry after the nurse, but quickly pull out my cell phone to tap out another message.

Polaris: Thank you.

Tuum: Always.

I shake my head in disbelief as I tuck my cell phone away. It’s insane that he was able to get me access as easily as that, but what’s more shocking is the fact that he did it without trying to get something out of me. Like, I expected a bargain between us, tit for tat, but there was none of that.

I don’t get to dwell on it for too long before we enter the medical room to find Bryony sitting up on the bed, rocking back and forth while Minnie struggles to run a hand up and down her spine in an attempt to comfort her.

“Bryony,” I murmur, and her gaze snaps to me. The pinch between her eyebrows confirms she’s not okay, her pupils like pin pricks as tears stream down her face.

“Polaris.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, glancing between my two best friends, but neither of them seem to have an answer.

Bryony sighs. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” she mutters, glancing at everyone now in the room. The nurse has left us to it, but the crowd has grown from her and Minnie to the two of them plus Wylder, Lincoln, Asher, Tatum, Foster, and myself.

If Asher is right, this isn’t going to help her. Clearing my throat, I take a tentative step toward her. “Asher thinks he knows,” I admit, and her stare tilts to him for a brief moment before she latches back onto me. I gulp. “Do you trust me?” I ask, and her brows furrow deeper.

“Yes.”

Relief swarms through my body as I eliminate the remaining space between us, stuffing my hand into my pocket to grabmy pouch of sand. “Close your eyes,” I breathe, and she does so, deep lines remaining etched between her furrowed brows. Scooping a handful of sand from my pouch, I press it into her palm, curling her fingers around it. “Do you remember what Professor Juniper taught me in class the other day?” She tilts her head, unsure, and I clarify. “You know, before I stormed out like a brat,” I add, and a wisp of a smile curls her lip for a split second before the frown falls back in place. “That’s what we’re going to do now, okay?”

She shakes her head slightly. “I don’t?—”

“Focus, Bryony. If Asher’s right, it’s going to help,” I insist, and she nods, relenting. “Focus on the room, on the energy. Tell me if you see any colors or outlines,” I murmur gently, hoping to guide her as silence drifts over the room.

I’m not sure how much time passes, but the markings between her brows ease just a touch until Foster sighs. “This is all bullshit. You need to get out, the coven is on their way,” he snaps, and any kind of progress that had been made is gone when Bryony’s muscles bunch in pain.

“Foster is red,” she grunts through a taut groan of pain, and I gape at her in disbelief before peering over my shoulder.

“Foster, you need to leave,” I say as calmly as possible, and he grunts, obviously not taking my order well.

“Like fuck,” he bites, and I sigh.

“You’re making her worse.” How I keep my voice neutral, I don’t know, but it won’t last for much longer if he doesn’t listen.

“Bullshit,” he calls, and my face dips as I try to take a calming breath.

“It’s just until you cool off.”

He scoffs. “You’re trying to come between us,” he snarls, and I shake my head.

“No, I’m trying to regulate her because she’s a fucking center,” I snap back, aware I’m not helping the situation, but him not listening isn’t aiding us either.

Meeting his stare across the room, I watch an array of emotions flicker over his features as he shakes his head. “That’s not possible.”

I sigh. “I know it feels that way, and I’m completely aware that I don’t know much about all of this, but Asher is right and she’s seeing you in her mind. She has mind magic,” I explain, hoping like hell it makes sense.

“How?”

“We can get the answer, just give her some space first,” I insist, and his nostrils flare as he looks past me to where Bryony writhes on the bed. Without a word, he turns for the door, forcibly slamming it behind him.

Wary looks pass around the room as we all look at Bryony.

“Polaris?” The word is nothing more than a whisper from her lips, and I reach for her hand, hoping to guide and comfort her the best I can.

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