Page 75 of Savage Sacrifice
Tatum takes a seat at the foot of the bed, wearing only a pair of boxer shorts now, which is little more than what he had on earlier, but enough for things to feel a little more normal, I guess. A soft smile curls his lips as he offers me his hand, and I take it, letting him tug me into his lap.
I curl my arms around his neck, legs dangling over his as I nestle my face against his shoulder.
It feels like an eternity passes as I sit cradled in his arms. The comfort of his embrace soothes me after tonight’s events, but something lurks at the corner of my mind, refusing to let me relax, as much as I want to.
“The coins,” I breathe. There’s a question there somewhere, I just haven’t quite placed it. Not that it matters to Tatum, he understands me better than I do myself.
“We realized one had changed when you…”
“Sacrificed myself,” I murmur, understanding where he’s going. I lean up off his shoulder, meeting his gaze as a tight, sad smile claims his lips.
“Exactly. AND after we left you in Florida, Lincoln in tow, we realized there was a second one that looked different too,” he adds, and I nod, letting the facts settle in my gut.
“Because he sacrificed himself for me,” I guess, and he hums in agreement. “So we all have to harm ourselves?” I clarify,worry forming a knot in my stomach, but the crinkling in his eyes tells me I’m not quite right.
“Not specifically,” he states, wiping a hand down his face before resting it in my lap.
“What makes you say that?” I push when he doesn’t immediately expand, and his smile grows tight.
“I didn’t sacrifice my life for another to change, and neither did Blaze. Well, not like you and Lincoln, but our actions tonight seem to be the ones to have changed the other two coins,” he explains, and despite my best efforts, my tired brain can’t make it all compute.
“I don’t understand.”
He nods, his gaze drifting from mine for a few moments, and I bite my tongue, giving him a moment to think. “Do you know why Linc has been so intent on figuring out the curse?” he blurts, catching me by surprise, and I shake my head. “Because I knew I wouldn’t be able to do what was needed when the time came regarding the blood kin curse.”
My chest aches for him. “Tatum,” I breathe, and he strokes his hand over my thigh, comforting me when I’m trying to soothe him.
“The fear of killing someone has been awful,” he admits, and I place my hand on top of his.
“But you did it,” I whisper, recalling the state of Finch earlier, and he grunts.
“Yeah, but not for me, for Blaze.”
It takes me a moment to arrange the pieces of the puzzle, and when it finally comes together, a gasp escapes my lips. “You sacrificed your greatest fear to protect someone else.”
“Yes,” he replies with a gulp. “And he sacrificed his blood to heal me, a wolf, something he would never have done if it wasn’t for you,” he adds, making my pulse flutter at my neck. “Now wejust have two left,” he murmurs, a hum lingering in the air before he adds. “Two savages to go.”
“They’re really for us? The coins, I mean?” I ask, running my tongue over my bottom lip.
“Yes.” I saw the new engravings on the precious metal earlier. They’re really no longer the same now. It fills me with a hope, so much damn hope, that I feel like we can achieve this if I’m a witch or not. “This is all heavy. You need to rest.”
With me in his hands, he somehow manages to shuffle us back on the bed, kicking the sheets down before my hair is spread over the pillow and my body is horizontal beside his. The second my face is pressed against the soft pillow, my brain comes alive.
I hate it when this happens.
Exhausted to the point of passing out, yet the moment I lie down, my mind comes alive. My brain attempts to refocus on every worry, every open-ended spiral or anxious thought. It threatens to debilitate me.
Tatum rearranges us, swooping his arm beneath me so I can rest my cheek against his chest. I hug my arm around his middle, breathing him in in an attempt to find the tendrils of sleep once again. He ghosts his fingers through my hair, silently lulling me as I clear my throat.
“I think it was nice tonight to let our hair down, but it’s like sticking a Band-Aid over a gaping wound,” I mutter, and he hums in agreement again.
“Tomorrow, or later today, I guess, we need to figure it out. We can’t be doing all of this without an actual purpose and focus.”
“Agreed,” I murmur, thankful we’re on the same wavelength. Sighing, I snuggle in closer to his side. “Switching my brain off to fall asleep is a different task altogether,” I grumble, and his handpauses at my hair, the tip of his finger stroking over my shoulder instead.
“I can help with that.” His voice is huskier, making my thighs clench.
“Yeah?” I breathe, tilting my head back to meet his heated stare.
