Page 68 of Savage Sacrifice
I’m going to find him.
Turning away from her, so the emotions radiating from her don’t take root in my gut, I inhale a deep breath, desperate to catch a hint of his scent. Nothing comes as I prowl through the trees until I’m halfway back to the treeline.
My gut twists, but I take off, following the scent that lingers in the air, guiding me to him. I stop when I spy him in thedistance, seated on a tree stump, elbows braced on his knees with his head in his hands.
Fuck.
I shift, desperate to talk. Pushing my hair back off my face, I call out his name and his gaze snaps to mine instantly.
“Jesus Christ, Tatum. Put that thing away,” he grumbles, waving a hand at me. Or, more specifically, my swinging cock.
I roll my eyes at him. We’re wolves, this isn’t the first time he’s seen it, and I’m sure it won’t be the last. Especially if Polaris has anything to do with it. I see the desire in her eyes, and I know I’m going to take her with my brothers again one day. Maybe even Blaze. My cock stiffens at the idea of her spread naked, just like she was when we marked her and claimed her as ours.
“Really, Tatum? Fucking hell,” he grunts, and I shrug, glancing down at my thickening cock while reluctantly thinking of something terrible to distract my dick.
“What’s going on, Linc?”
I don’t want to say it, I don’t want to question whether his wolf is there or not. That’s for him to put out there in the universe, not me. I thought it would be better to pretend everything is fine and simply expect his wolf to appear tonight, but looking at the shattered man before me, I might have been wrong.
He shakes his head, looking away from me as he sighs. “I haven’t tried, but… I don’t think it’s there,” he breathes, making my chest tighten.
I crouch beside him, but he still looks anywhere but at me. “What’s holding you back?”
His gaze finds mine, the truth shimmering beneath the surface. “The worry that I won’t find it.”
For the first time in forever, I think Lincoln is… anxious? Scared? Torn? Those are three words often associated with me, but with him? Never.
I place my hand on his thigh in comfort, but the pointed look he offers me in return makes it clear that, while I’m naked, I should keep my hands to myself. I roll my eyes at him in response.
“Don’t let fear control you, Lincoln. Look what it’s done to me. You’re stronger than this.”
He scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t fucking feel it.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” I offer, and his nostrils flare for a second as his eyebrows rise, but he shakes his head.
Typical Lincoln to be stubborn, even now.
“It won’t hurt you to. You always encourage me to talk,” I nudge, and he sighs.
“You’re a survivor of pain, Tatum, there’s a difference,” he insists, and my eyes widen in surprise. Is he joking right now?
“Are you forgetting the part where you literally died to go in search of the woman we love?” That’s other-worldly in comparison if you ask me, yet he shakes his head dismissively again.
“It’s different.”
“You’re damn right it is. I carry around my sadness from the loss of my parents being killed, but you were literally unalived yet live to tell the tale. That’s not going to be easy, and it’s definitely going to take its toll.”
Silence blankets us, stretching out as our words settle, and he once again avoids my stare for what feels like an eternity before he finally glances back at me.
“I don’t feel him.”
“Could you be blocking him out?” I ask, unsure how that’s possible, but I’ll clutch at whatever straws I can get my hands on to remain positive for him.
“I thought with the mark on my arm I was still whole,” he breathes, letting his chin hit his chest as he sighs in defeat, and even under the moonlit sky, the pain is visible.
“You’re whole regardless, Lincoln. I promise you that, but I also promise you that we’ll figure this out.”
He offers me a tight and hollow half-smile. “We’ll need to figure out an alternate alpha since you guys didn’t do it in my absence,” he states, and I nearly fall backwards.
