Page 76 of Savage Desire

I internally berate myself for second guessing my decision as Asher kicks the door shut behind us, dropping his arm from my shoulders, and I feel even more isolated than ever as the four of them stare at me.

Lincoln glares in my direction, but the focus of his attention is on my hands and not my face, so I take that as a positive that he’s not mad at me, I think. “Where was it?” he asks as everyone else just gapes at me, and I gulp.

“My bed.”

“Fuck,” Asher curses as he starts to pace in short steps to my right.

“Was it there when you fell asleep?” Lincoln asks, and I shrug.

“I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” he snaps, clearly unhappy with my uncertainty, and my nostrils flare in agitation.

“I’m giving you the truth. What do you want me to do, lie?”

“I’d rather you weren’t here with that thing at all,” he snaps back, and I scoff at the audacity of this asshole.

“And I’d rather it wasn’t in my room at all, but the only person who can help me is in this room. I have no idea what it means or why it was there, but I know it isn’t something good.”

“Well, at least you know something,” Lincoln grunts, and Tatum launches to his feet.

“That’s enough, Linc,” he warns, and the asshole sitting almighty in his chair sags forward, his head dipping as he shakes it dismissively.

“It’s not our problem,” Lincoln states, and the scoff comes from Wylder this time.

“That’s bullshit and we all know it,” he retorts, glancing at me with a sad smile on his lips, but it does nothing to ease the worry in my heart.

“Can someone just tell me what it means?” My question hangs in the air for what feels like an eternity before Asher stops pacing, his eyes finally drawing to mine as he sighs.

He rakes his hand through his hair, his marbled eyes bigger and brighter because his pupils are so small. “It’s my fault, Silver.” My eyebrows gather in confusion, desperate for more of an explanation than that. “That’s the calling card of The Crow. It means he’s got a deal to make.”

“What deal? I don’t want a deal!” I say, my voice getting faster and higher in pitch with every word as panic filters into my voice.

“Nobody ever wants the deal, Silver,” he mutters in response, and I shake my head.

“No, Asher, I don’t want it. Give it back to him,” I insist, thrusting both the feather and the card in his direction, but he instinctively steps back. “Asher,” I plead, and a guilt-ridden smile stretches his lips as his shoulders dip.

“I’m sorry, Silver.”

I rear back, the items slipping from my grasp as anger gets the better of me. “Fuck you. Fuck all of you. I didn’t want yourhelp anyway,” I snap before charging for the door. It swings open effortlessly, and before I know it I’m halfway back to the witches’ dorms, my heart thundering in my ears, but what hurts the most is the pain in my chest when no one chases after me.

Surviving is a solo game here. I have to remember that.

27

ASHER

She storms from the room, a tempest leaving invisible destruction in her wake as she takes a piece of me with her. The front door slams behind her, signifying her exit while igniting the rage unfurling through my veins. It blinds me, and a moment later, my fist meets the wall, a snarl snapping from my lips, but it does nothing to simmer the fury.

My chest heaves, my nostrils flare, and my muscles clench.

How is any of this possible?

How did last night go from the best night of my life to a downfall at my uncle’s order, only to sour even further this morning.

My gaze falls to the symbolic black feather and the scratchy writing on the card beside it.

“How did he find her, Asher?” Lincoln murmurs, his voice gruff, and I tilt my head in his direction. His hands are balled into fists on the desk, barely contained anger rattling inside him, but I spy it in his eyes, in the tick of his jaw.

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