Page 88 of Savage Desire

I want to give in to him, but he’s right, and I owe it to myself to put myself first.

“You’re right,” I rasp, and he presses a kiss to my shoulder blade, eyes still on mine through the mirror.

“I’ve got you. Even when you haven’t got yourself.”

“What does that mean?” I whisper, his words jolting my center, and he winks, standing tall like he didn’t just rock my world both physically and mentally. He discards the condom, tucking himself back into his pants, and I notice the watermarkson his jeans. If he’s aware, he doesn’t care as he heads to the door, leaving me a trembling bundle of nerves. With the door handle in his grasp, he glances back over his shoulder at me.

“Tomorrow, Little Witch. You have until tomorrow.”

31

LINCOLN

Irritation burns through my veins as I pace back and forth in front of my desk. I called a meeting a half hour ago and Wylder is still nowhere to be seen.

“He messaged saying he is on his way,” Tatum murmurs, trying to ease the tension in the air as he sits beside Asher on the sofa, but it’s futile. We’ve got big decisions to make and we’re wasting time waiting for him.

“From where? He’s taking his sweet-ass time,” I grind out as the sound of the door slamming shut in the distance rings out. A moment later I hear footsteps approaching, and the man in question appears in the cracked doorway. “Finally! Where have you been?” I snap, watching as he saunters into the room with a lazy grin on his lips. “And why the fuck are your knees wet?” I add, the wet patches undeniable, but the acknowledgment only makes his grin grow wider.

“You smell like her,” Asher bites through clenched teeth, his hands white-knuckling as he balls them up in his lap.

“Thank you,” he replies, preening as he relaxes back in his seat.

I snarl. “You left us waiting so you could get laid?” I grind out, and Tatum snickers.

“I would have done the same,” he states, and Wylder leans across Asher to hold his fist out to Tatum, who fist bumps him.

Fucking idiots.

Asher clears his throat, garnering everyone’s attention before I can rip them all new assholes for being so unfocused right now. “How did she seem?” he asks, and Wylder grimaces.

“Mad at you,” I confirm, and Tatum nods in agreement while Asher curses under his breath. The despair is clear and bewildering all at once.

Sighing, I decide to wade in on the topic so I can bring it to an end, then we can focus on what actually matters right now. “She’ll get over it,” I grumble, leaning back against my desk, arms folded over my chest, and Asher cocks a brow at me.

“You’re so sure?”

I shrug, but before I can speak, Tatum interjects. “She came here when she needed help and we didn’t offer it to her.”

Shaking my head, I sigh. “She’s not a wolf, we don’t?—”

“Fuck that. She’s ours,” Wylder grinds out, and the room stills as we all turn to look at him. If the tightness on his face is anything to read, then it’s clear he means every single one of those words.

“Says who?” I ask, instantly regretting it as the three of them respond in sync.

“Me.”

“Me.”

“Me.”

My nostrils flare with irritation as Wylder leans forward, bracing his elbows on his knees as he stares right at me. “That just leaves you, Linc. Then we can make it official.”

I scoff, my arms banding tighter as I try to disassociate with the idea of her—of Midnight—being mine. “I’m not saying it.” My words are firm and final, so why does my gut clench at the admission?

“Are you sure?” Tatum asks, cocking his head to the side as he stares at me, and I sigh again.

“I’m Alpha of this pack. What I say is final.” The lick of irritation at my own idiotic response burns deep.

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