Page 79 of Savage Desire

My uncle.

The curse.

Her.

All of it.

But she shakes her head. “Let go of me, Asher.” Her words are soft but firm, making my gut twist as my lips part to deny her, but before I can say a word, a bang sounds from the table, drawing both of our eyes across to where Bianca leers from the other side.

Her palms are flat on the table, venom burning in her eyes as she looks between us.

“Oh, and you can fuck off as well,” Polaris snarls, rising to her feet as she tugs her hands from my grasp, and this time, I make the mistake of letting her go.

Surprised by her outburst, Bianca rears back but quickly narrows her eyes at my girl. “Stop thinking you can take my wolves when you’re a fucking witch,” she bites, and Polaris snickers, the sound eerie as she takes a step back, waving a hand in my direction.

“Oh, you can fucking have them. I’m done.” She makes a show of dusting off her hands before storming for the exit. All I can do is stare after her, my mind swirling with a million thoughts of what I should do, but none of them take root.

It’s only when Bianca huffs that I’m pulled from my trance. Staring at the stupid bitch across the table, I snarl, slowly rising to my feet.

“If you ever speak to my girl like that again, I’ll hang you upside down from the top of the fucking building and have everyone swing at you like a fucking pinata.”

I don’t give her a chance to respond, I’m already gone, chasing after the girl who most definitely owns a piece of me.

28

POLARIS

My feet can’t carry me fast enough as I hightail it the hell out of there and as far away from Asher as possible.

Am I acting irrational? Likely.

Am I running on adrenaline? Definitely.

Am I a mess? One-thousand percent.

But all that matters is getting away from the drama that seems to chase me no matter how much I try to avoid it. Especially when it involves Bianca. She’s enough to send me to an early grave, and I’m sure if she had it her way, that’s precisely where I would be. The only thing holding her back is the fact that I could be her blood kin. This curse is somehow also my savior at the same time, but I wouldn’t be here without it so my thoughts definitely settle back on it being exactly what it is: a curse.

I don’t get a chance to relish in the slight breeze as I step outside. I keep my pace up, heading straight for the familiar treeline off to the left. My body moves of its own accord, but I know where I’m going—my sanctuary.

Hidden among the chaos, it gives me a second to breathe without having to scurry all the way back to the witches’ dorms.

The familiar shadows from the trees below cast the maze in an eerie darkness, but for once, the uncertainty of it wrapsaround me like a warm blanket, keeping me warm and safe despite everything I face. Stepping under the archway, I make my way to the center and flop down in the corner with a sigh.

There’s a part of me, a teeny tiny part, that is slightly disappointed that I’m alone. Whenever I come out here, I somehow always end up finding myself at Tatum’s side, and his presence in this moment, or lack thereof, is noted. But it’s fine. It has to be fine. Itneedsto be fine. Alone. Completely on my own.

I’m done being naïve, gullible, and stupid.

Thankfully, since it’s the weekend, I can sulk here for as long as I want. Once I leave the safety of my sanctuary, I can hold myself true to my promise.

Another heavy exhale parts my lips and I dig into my bag, retrieving my grimoire. I might be hiding away when I’m supposed to be heading to the library, but there’s still a book right here in front of me that requires my attention. It’s probably the one that will make me the strongest too since it’s filled with spells I can learn from.

Channeling the sliver of hope and determination that remains, I flick through the pages. At first, the words merge together, completely overwhelming me, but I swallow it down, forcing myself to focus. When the alternative is worrying what The Crow wants with me, I find it much easier to sink into the grimoire.

There are spells for everything in here. A bubble of excitement rises inside me as I scan my eyes over the text that explains the simplicity of mundane spells that don’t require me to make circles with my sand. With some, all I have to do is have a pinch in my grasp and the magic should flow from me.

If I can figure this out, my morning routine will become much quicker. The more straightforward spells only require single-word chants. Others call for a bit more, but starting small helps me feel like I can accomplish something. Once I cannaturally handle the simpler tasks, the more complex ones won’t seem like such a leap.

Intrigued, I feel locked in, scanning deeper into the book, bypassing the spell I used in Professor Whitmore’s office to what looks like more elaborate possibilities. I quickly slam the grimoire closed when I note two spells side by side requiring blood to achieve the enchantment, quickly and effortlessly confirming that I’m well out of my depth there.

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