Page 61 of Savage Hope

Would they listen to me then, or would I be ordered to fall in line?

I don’t want to find out.

As her hand gets within an inch of my face, I sense a shift in the air, as if her magic is palpable, and the panic that consumes me morphs into a physical form, filling my chest as I push against the witches holding me in place.

“Make it stop,” I scream, my throat burning as I yell. My head falls back, my breath stuttering in my lungs as I search deep inside for a strength I know I won’t find, when a knot of pressure expands in my chest, curling deep in my gut, and I scream, releasing the taut tension.

The sound ricochets off the walls around me, and with a force like I’ve never felt before, I snap my wrists out of the witches’ hold before pushing against their chests. The leader stumbles back in surprise, her hand still frozen in the air before her as the witches holding me in place fall to the floor.

The person at the back of the room remains frozen in place while the other idle witch edges toward me. My chest aches as I pant for breath, desperate to put as much distance between us as possible. I take a single step before I freeze, glancing down at the witch on the floor whose hood has fallen back to reveal a familiar face. My face screws up in disgust.

Foster. The guy who showed us the protection spell in class.

Asshat.

Snapping my gaze to my right, I see that the other witch on the floor is the girl from class who created the luck charm. Her name escapes me, and searing disappointment clings to my limbs. Nobody moves, and everyone seems as surprised by my outburst as I am.

I try to steady my breathing as I cast my gaze over everyone, settling on the person still hiding at the back of the room, and my gut tells me exactly who it is. I don’t want to stick around to find out, though. My breathing isn’t easing, it’s not going to in here, and I need to think clearly. That’s not going to happen with my heart pounding wildly in my chest, making it abundantly clear that I’m not as safe as I first thought.

With blurry eyes, I spin, looking beyond the witches to find a small space between the flickering flames around the room.

An exit.

Before I pass out and leave myself even more vulnerable to them, I make a run for it.

Sickness coils in my veins.This time, it's not from hunger, but from despair.

I run from the room, relieved to find a set of stairs leading up to my freedom, and I climb them, two at a time, acutely aware that someone could overpower me at any moment. To my surprise, I barrel through the doors at the top into the early evening air without incident.

The building before me is familiar, but seeing the common room of the witches’ dorm does not ease my concerns.

The basement?

They had me in the basement. We hadn’t even left the building I’m supposed to call home.

Getting the hell out of there, I rush down the path, thankful that there are no other students around to see me crumble before I make a beeline for the trees. I don't know where I'm going or what I'm doing, but it seems my brain does when I come to the familiar spot in the forest outlining the hedge-high maze.

I drop to a heap on the ground, pressing my back into the earth, just like I did the first time I was here. This time, my terror feels amplified. Curling my fingers into the blades of grass, I try to take steady breaths, willing the panic to leave my body.

Should I have run? I don't know. I don't know what this means for me and my future in a coven, but all I know is I did not feel safe, and there was no reason for them to touch my body. They didn't deserve to pry the answer of what kind of witch I am from me. That is something I deserve to learn on my own. They were going to take it without care. They were going against my wishes and pleas, without my consent.

Deep down, I know I did the right thing running, yet there's a niggling part of me that is worried I've just made my life a hell of a lot more complicated than it needed to be.

“Polaris?” I still, unable to speak as my next breath lodges in my throat at the sound of Bryony’s voice. “Polaris, are you here?”

I want to melt into the earth, hide beneath the mud and the soil, and wait for her to pass. But more than that, I want her gone, and for that to happen, I need to get this over with as quickly as possible.

Pressing up onto my elbows, I lift just enough to see her over the hedges. The sun still lights up the sky in a mixture of pinks and oranges, offering a pretty background even when my world is burning in turmoil.

Her eyes widen when she spots me, and she hurries to cut the remaining distance. “Polaris, I?—”

“You can stop right where you are,” I interject, lifting my hand. To my surprise, there is a witch among the madness whohears what I’m saying. She pauses in place, but it doesn’t stop the turmoil storming in her eyes.

“P—”

“Just don't come any closer,” I insist, aware that I’m repeating myself, but I need the distance. I have to have the distance.

“I won’t,” she murmurs, nervously wrapping her arms around herself. “What happened back there?” she asks, and I scoff.

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