Page 87 of Savage Sacrifice
“Because I know what you’ve been up to,” I state, nodding to the door she departed from a moment ago.
She follows the direction, but now there’s something between her and the door in question. Or more specifically, someone.
Minnie purses her lips, dangling Bryony’s velvety pouch of sand in the air. “It looks like you’ve got some explaining to do.”
30
WYLDER
I’m going to rip Professor Whitmore’s head clear off his shoulders, then shove it firmly up his unlubed asshole before spearing his cock with a rusty spike and parading him around in a victory lap.
It’s going to be one hell of a fucking victory lap.
But first, I want my Little Witch.
Staring off with the guard manning the exit portal, my blood pressure rises. I’m going to make an example of him first if I need to, but not before I get my girl.
My heart thunders, the distance between me and the woman I love making the pain even more treacherous with every passing second.
“I’m sorry, Sir, but you can’t use the portal at this time of night. I recommend you go and get some sleep. Come back at nine.”
I roll my eyes. He’s like a broken record. He’s already said this to me twice. My fists clench at my sides, the desire to slam one into the side of his face growing stronger with every fleeting moment.
“I don’t think you understand,” I start, and he waves me off.
“No, I don’t thinkyoudo,” he grinds out, finally showing his irritation with me. “There’s nothing I can do. Now, fuck off or I call Whitmore.” He cocks a brow at me and I grin.
The idea of getting Whitmore in front of me is alluring,reallyfucking alluring, but I bite back my snarl before I fuck it all up too soon, and Minnie’s words circle in my mind.
“They’re not going to let you out, Wylder. We all know it. But if you want to go and throw your weight around, have at it. I just… I swear to God, if you alert Whitmore to anything, then I’ll strangle you with my bare hands.”
It wasn’t a threat, but a warning.
The last thing I want to do is fuck this up and piss Minnie off. Not when she’s right.
Sighing, I step back, lifting my hands in surrender. “I hear you. But just so we’re clear, you’re at the top of my shit list,” I promise before turning away from him.
I’m barreling down the hall and back outside a moment later, storming toward the dorm buildings as the essence of dawn tingles at the fringes of life. The peeking ghost of sunlight spurs me on, but it’s not the wolf building I’m heading toward; it’s the vampires’.
As soon as Tatum offered insight into what he overheard, Blaze grabbed Bryony and ran. Thankfully, Lincoln and Asher kept up with him, but my mind went elsewhere. I wanted my girl. The moment Tatum explained what Bryony had told Professor Whitmore, her fucking father, all I could think was I need my girl.
I need her now.
Recalling the entire thing does nothing to calm the rage inside of me, but as I hurry down the path leading to the vampires’ dorm, I channel the emotions fuelling me. I take the steps down into the basement, rolling my shoulders back as Iforce my mind to quiet, just like I do when I’m about to step into the ring.
This is no different.
There’s an opponent in there. She just happens to be a fucking traitor.
The heavy door falls closed with athudbehind me, and I manage one more calming breath before I step into the dark and dingy room.
My nose curls up at the sight of bodies chained to the beds that line the walls on either side. All are incoherent, except one. If I didn’t know any better, I would think it was a drug den in here, but I’m privy to the fact that the vampires are the ones coming down here for a hit, not those looking worse for wear.
I might kick up a fuss about it on any other day, but right here, in the twilight hour, I only care about the stupid girl to my left.
Bryony is chained to the bed like the others, but instead of just one set of metal cuffs holding her captive, there are four. Each limb is bound in place. Asher, Tatum, and Lincoln are sitting in a row by the wall, arms folded as they stare at her intently, while Minnie and Blaze tower over the bed.
“This is barbaric,” Bryony snaps, tugging at her restraints, but without her sand, she’s powerless. I think. If she is a center, then she could do more, but with what coven?
