Page 44 of Savage Hope

“That's a damn shame,” he mutters, running his thumb across my bottom lip.

I’m torn between grinning joyfully at his words and crumbling at the distance threatening to part us.

“If you say so.”

I'm acutely aware that we're not alone now and that revelation threatens to burst the bubble we've been in. But he moves closer so our noses touch once again. I can feel the heat rise around us, and this time, it’s not from my burning cheeks but the sexual tension coiling between us.

It's like I can taste another kiss in the air. I just need to cut the remaining distance between us and take it.

Take it, Polaris. Take one more.

I feel light-headed and dizzy as we stare at each other. I blindly reach for the hem of his t-shirt, needing the support to remain steady on my feet—an ability that seems impossible as I watch his eyes darken to sapphires.

Another pass of his thumb over my bottom lip, and I’m a goner as his words begin to breeze over my face again. “I could make an excep?—”

A scream bites through the night air, jolting us back a step and out of each other’s embrace.

I choke on the air I try to inhale into my lungs, startling at the shrill noise as panic coats my skin. Whipping my gaze around, I try to find the source of the sound, but it seems we’re not the only ones caught off-guard by the cry that swept through the party louder than the music booming through the speakers.

Another pained cry rings out as the music grinds to a halt and my eyes latch onto a frantic girl in the center of the dance floor.

“Linc, help me!”

He doesn't think twice before he runs towards the plea, and for some reason, I find myself chasing after him.

I’m drowning in a sea of worry and a blizzard of panic from the body of students crowding the dance floor, but I shoulder my way through, slipping and sliding until I reach the center. The second I come to a stop, I wish I had stayed where I was; better yet, I wish I had run in the opposite direction.

Laying on the floor, blood trickling from her mouth with her eyes glazed over, is V.

Veronica.

I don't need anybody to say it. I can already tell. I can see it with my own eyes.

She's dead.

I fall to my knees, light-headed with panic this time, as the world blurs around me. All I can see is the girl who yelled for Lincoln’s attention running her hands over Veronica’s throat,searching for a pulse as she pleads under her breath for Lincoln to take control.

Again, without question, he does. If he’s aware of the growing crowd watching in horror, he doesn’t show it. His attention is fixated on Veronica’s lifeless body.

His palm splays above her heart as he lowers his face to her parted lips, but the pull of his eyebrows shows that the breath he’s searching for no longer exists.

“What the fuck is going on?” someone barks, and my gaze whips around toward a looming guy standing a few feet away.

A familiar one.

Wylder, that's what he said his name was. Gone is the calm and inviting guy from earlier, and in his place stands a tomb of strength, fury, and rage.

The panicked girl rises to her feet, swiping at her cheeks with muddied hands as she turns to the brute statue. “Wylder, I-I don't know. I don't know. We were dancing. We…she just…she j-just dropped. She just dropped.” Every word from her lips is filled with panic as tears brim in her eyes, trailing down her cheeks as she shakes her head in disbelief.

Lincoln rises to his feet, pulling her into the warm embrace that was mine mere moments ago. She curls into him, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

“There's nothing more that can be done now,” he says, the words like bullets to my heart as gasps ring throughout the gathered crowd.

“None of it makes sense, Linc. I don't understand what's going on,” she says, and he looks around the sea of students, expecting the answer to reveal itself.

But nothing comes.

Everybody is staring, too scared to blink in case we miss something as my heart ricochets in my chest.

---