Page 35 of Savage Hope

I can see him easily from here now.

Long brown hair is secured in a bun at the back of his head, with the sides shaved short. Deep brown eyes stare off into the distance as he stands tall, pain palpable in the air around him.

“Fine. I'll be there today,” he grunts before ending the call, letting the cell phone fall to the ground with a thump, and I suddenly feel like I'm seeing a glimpse of his vulnerability that nobody should be witnessing right now.

Lowering myself back down, I press myself into the ground, trying to hide my presence as I hear him curse under his breath before the sound of a punch crushing against a hard surface, likely a tree, fills the space around us.

He exhales heavily, and a part of me wants to jump to my feet and comfort him, but something tells me that wouldn't be taken too well. Whoever he is, he doesn't look like a witch. Not from who I’ve seen at my table, and any approach from me is probably going to make the situation worse. I’m already covered in orange soda, my pride tarnished; I don’t need this guy getting angry at me, too.

Instead, I beg for the ground to open up, but his voice cuts through the air, confirming I’m still where I shouldn’t be.

“You can come out now. You're not exactly doing the best job at hiding.”

My spine stiffens. This time, I know those words are for me, but I can't convince myself to move an inch.

Plastered to the ground, I hold my breath, willing him to leave, but he doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“Is eavesdropping a habit of yours, or should I count myself lucky?” he asks. There doesn't seem to be any disappointment in his tone, just a sense of defeat and reluctance. Yet I still don't move.

I brace for impact, ready for him to charge over here and make a complete mockery of me, but to my surprise, he sighs, and the sound of his footsteps disappearing in the distance is all I hear.

I have no idea what that was, but I've already got enough of my own drama going on. I don't need to concern myself with anything else right now. I don’t have a savior complex; I’m too selfishly trying to escape my own troubles to worry about someone else.

I just need to survive today, then I can figure out how to survive tomorrow. And eventually I need to figure out how I’m going to face the blood kin curse.

15

POLARIS

Idon't know how I made it through the rest of the day, but somehow, I managed to pick myself up off the ground, walk myself back to the main academy building, and participate in the rest of the day’s lessons.

Nobody said a word.

Not one.

I didn't even get a side look from anyone, even with my gray jacket still stained orange. It felt anticlimactic. I was expecting snickers and finger-pointing, but nothing came. More than that, no one really looked at me at all, as if it was a rule to ignore me, and as much as I appreciated the lack of incessant bullying, the itch that I had done something even worse clawed at me.

Bryony remained at my side, as silent as everyone else had been, but as I stole a deep breath and re-entered the dining hall for dinner, I couldn’t keep quiet anymore.

“Am I imagining the drama I endured at lunch?” I ask as we take our seats, only this time, we’re at the far end of the table, as far away from the drama-seeking vampires as I can get. The wince on Bryony’s face confirms I didn’t make it all up, but it still doesn’t ease the pit in my stomach. When she doesn’t look at me, I push, knowing there’s more I’m unaware of. “Bryony, please,you’ve got to help me out. I’m drenched in orange stains, I fled this damn room like my life depended on it, and no one—and I meanno one—has batted an eyelid at me since. Not a vampire. Not a wolf. Not a witch or a human. It’s like it didn’t happen, but I’ve still got the stains and the tension headache that proves I’m not making it up. What am I missing?”

My chest heaves with every breath, my eyes wide as I plead for her to help me out.

She looks at me from the corner of her eye first, the sigh parting her lips loud in my ears before she turns to look at me. She inches closer, and I do the same, my heart thundering as I wait to hear the secret she seems hesitant to share, but before she speaks, she glances around the room, making sure she can’t be heard before she zones in on me again.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” she starts, and I shake my head profusely, even though I don’t understand why it matters. Her tongue runs over her lip, her eyes casting over the room again before she leans in even closer. “The Alpha Pack wasn’t too happy about Blaze’s little stunt. I hadn’t even realized you had escaped until they took over the room.”

“Took over the room?” I repeat, eyebrows gathering in confusion, and she nods.

“One on each of the tables. They were furious.”

One on each of the tables? Furious? I don’t understand.

“They marched along the wood, barking out orders, making everyone swear to keep their mouths shut and heads down. If anyone is seen making fun of you or even looking at the mess on your jacket, then they would tear their fucking heads off.”

I lean back, disbelief swirling in my mind. “That seems a bit dramatic.”

“That’s the Alpha Pack,” she states with a shrug, as if it explains everything, yet I feel no wiser.

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