Page 72 of Savage Desire

Raking my fingers through my hair, I glance from my uncle and his men to Polaris and back again. I was so caught up in her, in that God-forsaken dress, that I forgot all about the commitment and promise I made to Finch.

If my uncle is showing up here, it’s clearly a bigger deal than I had anticipated. And now the girl who had me losing my damn mind is naked beside me, and the last thing I want is for her to be caught in the crossfire of whatever this is about to become. It will become something, it always does when The Crow is involved.

“I need to get you out of here,” I breathe, turning my attention back to her, and she frowns, folding her arms over her chest as she steps back from the balcony.

“How am I supposed to go anywhere like this?” she retorts, disbelief leaving her voice weak, and I hate myself for it.

In the moment, I was infatuated, obsessed, and lost in every inch of her. In the moment, I thought I would get the time to appreciate the afterglow with her. She looks just as stunning now as she did when I first laid eyes on her tonight. Only now her hair is tousled, her make-up smeared, and her skin prickledpink. Nevermind the liquor that still lingers on her skin, mingled with the remnants of my cum on her back.

Fuck.

Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I will an idea to come to mind, but it’s impossible. With The Crow here, I can do nothing but face the music, and I can’t do that with her at my side. No way. No fucking way is he even allowed to know she exists.

Reluctantly, I sigh. “We’ll?—”

“Asher.” Lincoln’s voice cuts through the air, and a second later, he’s cutting across the room toward us. “I think you’re being summoned,” he grunts, his eyes raking over Polaris from head to toe. His jaw falls slack, heat pooling in his eyes, but he quickly shutters it as he cuts behind the bar, reappearing a moment later with a tablecloth in his hands.

“Yeah,” is all I manage, watching as he steps toward Polaris slowly, fabric offered out as a sort of modesty shield. She doesn’t shy away when he drapes the material around her shoulders, shielding her, but it does nothing to hide the remnants of sex that cling to her features.

“That means you need to get dressed, asshole,” Lincoln snaps, cocking a brow at me, and I swipe a hand down my face, nodding in agreement as I search for my clothes.

They’re strewn all over the floor and I quickly cut around the room, adding a layer as I go until I’m slipping my shoes on, ready to face my uncle’s wrath. Another deep breath, and I focus on Lincoln again. He stands ramrod straight beside Silver, who doesn’t lean into him for comfort, but I can see the distress on her face.

This is all my fault.

Fuck.

Four strides and I’m standing toe to toe with her. I cup her cheek, tilting her head back so I can stare deep into her eyes,but the worry and confusion I see burns through me. “Stay with Lincoln. He’ll keep you safe. The others too, okay?”

She worries her bottom lip but doesn’t say a word, and it seems I’ve used up all the spare time I had. Pressing my lips to her forehead, I feel her shiver at my touch before I bring my mouth to her ear. “You are perfect, Silver. Such a good fucking girl. I’ll make this little inconvenience up to you soon.” It’s a promise, one for me just as much as it is for her.

I step back, reluctantly turning my attention to Lincoln. “Take care of her. Get her out of here safely,” I grind out, and he nods. It’s not the verbal confirmation I would prefer, but it will do.

With one final look at the witch that has worked her magic on me, just as she has with my brothers, I rush down the steps two at a time. The second I reach the first floor, my demeanor shifts, the urgency in my steps dissolving as I take measured strides in the opposite direction of everyone else.

As panicked bodies rush for the exit, desperate to flee the man in the middle of the room, I make my way toward him. Despite the men surrounding him all dressed in black, he still stands out, just as he intends. It’s the damn mask. I don’t know who told him it was a good idea, but I can’t deny that there’s something eerie about it. It’s a statement in itself, add it to the fact that the man wearing it is ruthless, and it’s a toxic combination.

The Crow.

The name, however, is questionable. The man is a fucking wolf, just like me, my mother, my father, and every man that surrounds him. It must mean something. Either that or he chose the mask first and the name second.

The black beak of the mask shields the bottom half of his face that remains uncovered. Any inch of skin you may see is scarred, adding to the horror that is The Crow. I didn’t know who TheCrow was until my mother placed me in his care, but it didn’t take long to understand.

He is a bad man.

One that doesn’t chase money.

No.

His debts came with an entirely different cost.

Favors.

And never the good kind. Well, if you are on the other end of one of his favors, it is never to your advantage. Even if you are getting something out of it, it never trumps his gain.

His men eye my approach, refusing to part until I’m a few yards away, only then is my uncle fully revealed to me. I stop before him, lifting my arms at my sides subconsciously, and his men move in, patting me down like I would be foolish enough to try anything against this man.

I’ve received a pat down since the first day I met him. I’ll receive one every time until the day I die. The quicker they get it over with, the quicker I can get him out of here.

---