Page 52 of Savage Hope

Three words that hold such meaning yet leave me slightly confused. I’m likely still reeling from her prior statement, but I try to shake it off because if there's one class I need to focus on, it’s this. I want to gobble up every bit of information she has to offer, knowing she’s a key piece to my success and survival.

“Please, Bryony, why don't you give an example to our new students of how we may use potions in a casual, fun way,” Juniper states, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose before pointing for Bryony to join her at the front of the class.

For the first time, I glance back over my shoulder to find her. I avoid the rest of the witches, still uncomfortable under their silent scrutiny. Bryony smiles, sweeping her hair over her shoulder as she rises from her seat and all but skips to the front of the room. Her eyes cast around the edges of the class, eyeing all the items available before she quickly takes off doing a lap of the room. I watch in wonder as she gathers little items along the way, and as she nears the front of the room again, Professor Juniper murmurs under her breath before snapping her fingers, and I watch in awe as the floor opens up and a small cauldron rises.

Excitement buzzes through me as I watch Bryony line up what seem to be the ingredients she’s pulled together. D and H to my left seem to be equally amazed, while the rest of the class watches on in amusement.

Slowly, she starts to mix the items together. “A sprinkling of strawberry seeds, a drop of potents snare, and a strand of hair clipped from a horse’s mane,” she explains as she goes, and my eyebrows furrow with every added item.

Those sound like some strange things to use, but I keep my opinions to myself and just watch instead of making any judgments too soon.

All too quickly, Bryony is using an empty vial to collect some of the potion.

“Please, Bryony, show the class what you have made.”

Bryony smiles, pulling her hair forward, and drapes it over her left shoulder before she takes the vial and drops the liquid onto the ends. We all watch in awe as her blonde locks turn red—blood red.

She winks at me knowingly, and I grin, clapping with the other students as Bryony takes a dramatic bow.

“Wonderful Bryony. Thank you so much for sharing that with the class. Now, let's move on to a charm, shall we? And let's have Lucille. Lucille, please show our new students how we produce a charm.”

Bryony retakes her seat, running her fingers through the red strands as I rub my lips together. I watch as another girl stands, beaming from ear to ear. Her face is alight with joy and her blonde hair falls in a sharp bob around her face, accentuating her soft features.

She already knows where she's heading, rushing around the room before she appears in front of the professor a few moments later.

“Charms don't hold for very long. They're said to last an hour at most. But with this little trinket here, I can use my words and this vial to create something magical.” She holds out a cross pendant, one you would expect to find on a necklace. The bottle in her hand has something written on it, but it doesn't seem tobe a language I can understand. Taking a drop of the liquid, she pours it onto the cross, and it's as if glitter coats the surface. Lucille shivers as if it affects her too, and she beams brightly. “Anyone with this pendant receives the gift of good luck for the next hour.”

I gape at her as Juniper offers a small round of applause.

Good luck? No way. That's not possible, right?

“Wonderful, Lucille. I'll be taking that. I've got a meeting later on, and I need it to go well,” the professor says with a wink, pocketing the pendant.

The second her hand slips into the pocket of her ankle-length skirt, I instinctively stuff my hand into my pocket too, blindly searching for the familiar weight of my coin.

I wasn't supposed to bring it out with me, but after last night, I couldn't bear to leave my room without it. Now, with the joker’s face pressed into my palm, I take a deep breath and relish in the grounding sensation it gives me.

“And what would we say is a good example of an enchantment?” Juniper muses, tapping her chin as she looks around the room. “If we could have Foster step forward, please. Give us an example of an enchantment.”

I peer over my shoulder, feeling more confident with every passing moment that a witch willingly offers us a sliver of knowledge. This time, a guy seated at the back of the class stands. His sharp nose and strong jawline make him look dark and dangerous, but he doesn’t seem to have the confidence that comes with those features. He keeps his gaze downcast, avoiding everybody around him.

He steps to the front of the class and retrieves a bag of sand from behind the professor. She smiles at him proudly as he makes his way around the room, chanting under his breath as he lays the sand down. Once the sand encircles the entire room, he silently moves to the center. Ignoring the tables and peoplearound him, he closes his eyes, holding his hands out softly in front of him. His words continue to repeat again and again until the air falls still around us.

My heart flutters in my chest as I wait for something to happen. It’s only when his eyes blow wide and he drops his arms to his sides that he finally speaks.

“Protection is done.”

He takes a seat as Professor Juniper applauds him, and everybody else falls in line. The noise echoes in the air, even though I have no idea what we're celebrating.

“Thank you so much, Foster. That, ladies and gentlemen, is what we call a protection spell. Anyone with any harmful intentions would never be able to step over the threshold unless a break in the sand occurs. No witch, vampire, wolf, or human will be able to penetrate this room if the magic senses ill intent on their behalf.”

My mind is blown as I stare in wonder, completely shocked by such abilities, when the bell rings, cutting through the air and bringing the class to an end. I don't want to stand. I don't want to leave this spot. I want to continue devouring everything she has to offer—everything my peers have to offer, too, it seems.

Looking down at the bangles on my wrists, I plead for them to leave my skin, but it's futile. Until my sigil classes start, there's no way out of this. Even then, who knows how long it will take for me to figure it out?

“Thank you so much for attending my class today. To my three new students, I want to inform you that covens will consider the three of you, so be prepared to receive offers. What you may have to do to secure it ultimately depends on the coven itself.” She smiles wide with pride, nodding at each of us before she glances toward the back of the class. “Bryony, please, could you help me tidy up the room?” Juniper asks, effectivelydismissing everybody else, and I stand from my seat, making my way to the door before I peer back at Bryony.

As if sensing my concern, she offers me a soft smile. “Don't worry, Polaris. You go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't worry,” she repeats, and I nod.

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