Page 34 of Savage Hope

I’m sinking in worry, and to top it all off, deep down, I’m glad my magic is restricted by the sigil and untouchable right now. The thought of adding that to my plate on top of everything else would definitely send me to the brink of no return.

The chairs pull out across the table from me, and I spy D and H. They both remain huddled together, heads down, as theyavoid eye contact with me, and I opt to stuff the forkful into my mouth to distract from the disappointment.

Thankfully, it's a comfortable silence that envelops the table as we eat, but I can't help but take in the whole atmosphere of the dining hall as I finish guzzling my new favorite thing in the entire world.

Orange soda.

Placing my empty glass on the table, I glance around the room again, and my eyes latch on to the wolves at the farthest end. Lincoln seems to capture my stare immediately, and I find him surrounded by girls once again. Dragging my eyes away from him, I look down the length of their table, and it becomes abundantly clear that wolves are just a different specimen of man altogether.

When I sense myself wandering down a rabbit hole of hot distractions that I don’t want to get involved with, I turn my attention back to my plate. Once I’m done, I spy a bottle of water on the table and my stomach clenches in disgust. It doesn’t look appetizing anymore—not in comparison to the soda.

Before I can change my mind or talk myself out of it, I stand. “I’m going to go and get another drink.”

Bryony nods in acknowledgment and I quickly hurry down the length of the table, beelining straight for the soda machine. With my glass fully loaded with the addictive concoction once again, I turn back to the witches’ table, but I only make it a meager three steps before I’m sent sailing through the air, clattering to the floor with athump.

Glass shatters and orange liquid sprays everywhere as my palms ache from catching my fall and my knees burn from slamming against the floor. My pulse thumps in my ears, panic coating every inch of me, but through the sheer terror ringing in my ears, I hear a familiar voice.

“Maybe you should watch where you're going. You and that fucking silver hair are nothing but a beacon for disaster.”

My cheeks burn and the backs of my eyelids are inflamed with unshed tears as I fight past the pain, both physically and mentally, and tilt my face to the right. Blaze is slouched in his seat, his foot extended in my direction, and his gaze is filled with a raw look of disdain.

How did I not see him there? More than that, how had I given him such an open opportunity to tear me down? Evenmorethan that, why does he feel the need to attack me at all? Especially when it wastes such a valuable drink.

“Why don’t you just fuck off, Blaze, and leave the new Florentines alone?” a guy grunts.

The voice is familiar. I think it might be Asher, the guy who spoke in the class earlier, but I can't bring myself to turn and look at him. Horror and embarrassment already engulf me, tinting my skin crimson from head to toe; I don't need to add anything else to that.

Acutely aware that I’m still on my hands and knees, not helping defuse the situation, I push up and stand, dusting myself off without lifting my chin from my chest. I can hear Blaze and, whom I assume is Asher, grunting back and forth between themselves, but it's impossible to decipher their words over my tight breath as I nearly hyperventilate.

Struggling to draw air into my lungs, the panic grows stronger, and all I can think about is the fact that the entire student body is probably watching my downfall, and I can’t take it. Panic stole my breath like this once before, that I remember at least, but that was when my period started and I thought I was dying. This is something else entirely, and I can't just stand here and let it happen again, not with such a large audience.

My eyes lift, just a fraction, to find Terence frowning at me from his seat beside Blaze, while Sian looks down at her lap.It's the final push of the knife wedged between my ribcage, making black spots form in my vision, but before I collapse in a heap, I take off, running without a backward glance. I make my way through the few students standing between me and the door, and once I'm out in the corridor, I don't slow my pace. I keep going until I reach outside and the fresh air wraps around me. Even then, I struggle to slow down, my heart wrestling in my chest as I seek some form of shelter from the storm that’s following me like a dark cloud fixed above my head.

I cut across the manicured lawn and through the trees that frame the edges before I stumble to a stop. What looks like a little maze made out of cropped hedges and arched vines sits nestled among the trees. A piece of serenity among the madness that ripples through the campus. I step through the arched vines without a second thought. I have no idea where I’m going, but I find my breathing calming, just a little, as I stumble to a stop at the center. Planting my hands on my knees, I keel over, praying the nausea subsides as I slowly start to catch my breath.

I know I’m gaining control when I can take in more detailed notes of my settings. I focus on that, letting my surroundings bring me back to reality. The shrubs stand about waist high, trimmed to perfection, with pretty pink flowers dotted through them. The ground beneath me is perfectly manicured, just like everywhere else, and the arched vines are laced with large white flowers that attract bees.

Pursing my lips, I attempt to stand tall and plant my hands on my hips, but I fail miserably and slump back down, my entire body giving out as I find myself flat on my back, the cropped grass tickling along my skin.

Looking up at the sky, the sun is muted by the full trees looming above, but watching them gently sway in the breeze seems to calm the fire roaring inside me. With every controlled breath, I start to feel the rest of my body come back to life,the numbness slowly seeping from my bones. With a pinch of clarity, as the flames slow their coiling through my veins, I settle on the emotions taking hold.

Panic.

Anxiety.

Get yourself together, Polaris. Get yourself together.

It doesn't matter what other people can do. They won’t hurt me, not in any way that matters. I can survive stupid shit like this. I can survive Sian and Terence pretending I don’t exist. I can survive no one speaking to me forever, Bryony included, because I’m sure it’ll come to that after she sees the drama unraveling around me. But it doesn’t matter; I can survive it all because I have to focus all of my energy on surviving the blood kin curse.

The pep talk seems to ease some of the tension that still lingers inside me, when a voice sounds in the near distance, causing me to freeze. It takes a second, but I quickly realize it's not me that they're speaking to. The air grows quiet again, and I consider peeking to see if they’ve left or not, when their raspy voice cuts through the air again.

“I know, I know. I'm just…today is the anniversary, okay? It's hard.” I can feel the pain in his words and I hold my breath, scared to breathe and draw attention to myself. “I know you care,” he continues, but the sigh that escapes his lungs ripples through the air. “I do. For sure. I will come and see you guys, I will, it's just…it's a lot right now. No…I know. I know. I get what you're saying, but—are you even listening to me, or are you just allowing me to speak as you wait your turn to carry on getting your point across like what I’m saying doesn’t matter?”

My eyebrows gather as I listen, acutely aware that I'm eavesdropping on a conversation that has nothing to do with me, but it's intriguing, nonetheless. The way he’s trying to stand upfor himself, even if he’s failing, is inspiring. I need to take a page out of his book.

Pressing up onto my elbows, my gaze follows the direction of his voice, and I find a guy with his back to me, pacing in front of the arched vines. His head is dipped, his fingers pressing along the bridge of his nose as he seems to be struggling with something.

“I’m not going. I can't be there today. Tomorrow. I'll try tomorrow.” He tilts his head back, looking up at the sky, defeat clinging to his features.

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