Page 23 of Savage Hope

He sighs, a wistful smile on his face. “That's true,” he admits before taking a bite of the burger he opted to have, while grunts from the other side of him echo around me.

“He shouldn't have been pressing himself all over you like that,” T snaps, eyebrows pinched with agitation, and it only seems to make me more irritated with him.

I want to push him on why he thinks it’s even necessary for him to have an opinion on the situation, but instead, I take a deep breath, avoiding his gaze as I mutter, “Thanks for the insight, T.”

I know he's not done. I know he's not finished expressing whatever negative opinion he’s formed, and even from the corner of my eyes, I can see his lips part as his eyes burn into the side of my face. “P, we don’t?—”

I open my mouth, ready to cut him off, but the snap of a clap does the job for me. I lean back in my seat with relief as I turn toward the sound, along with everyone else. Professor Whitmore is standing at the double doors, his smile somehow wider than the first time I saw him.

“Please, Florentines, it is time for the housing ceremony,” he announces, and my eyebrows gather in confusion.

“Housing ceremony?” someone farther down the table hollers, and his grin seems to gleam even brighter.

“I’ll explain more once you're in the Grand Hall,” he states, spreading his arms out wide at his sides. “Please, follow me.”

Looking down at the few forkfuls still left on my plate, I internally berate myself for eating so slowly. Placing my cutlery down, I stand, and S links her arm through mine, seemingly deciding that we're going to continue the tour together. I’m unwilling to admit I could use the support for whatever lies ahead, so I keep my mouth shut and fall into step as we makeour way toward the double doors leading out into the marbled entryway that we visited earlier. Whitmore continues across the distance through the matching doors on the other side, and I vaguely recall him pointing out the room as the Grand Hall earlier, despite my lack of attention.

As we follow him inside, panic starts to coil in my veins when I find what I assume is every student of Trinity Falls Academy gathered and awaiting our arrival.

I feel like a lamb being led to slaughter. Or a convicted criminal taking their penultimate steps to the electric chair.

I feel so far out of my comfort zone that I am certain nothing good will come of this. It cannot be possible.

Professor Whitmore guides us to our seats and we shuffle down the front rows that have been left empty, presumably for us. I'd say I'm thankful, but I'm definitely not. The back of my head burns from the attention directed our way from every set of eyes in the hall. But instead of focusing on it, I clench my hands in my lap and train my eyes forward to where the stage sits as everybody else filters in.

I take a look around the space the best I can without fully turning around. I know there are rows and rows of velvet-padded seats in the same array of colors that were splattered through the dining hall.

Bronze, silver, gold, and onyx.

They fill the majority of the space reserved for the students, while the stage in front of me is lined with a handful of ornate throne-looking things along the back. There’s also a microphone up front and a table with some kind of silver cup in the center.

Red satin drapes hang around the room, framing arched windows that are detailed with small, square panes of glass. There's something opulent about the room, just like there's something grand about everything else here. I guess it’s in the name, but in comparison to the entryway, it feels older in here,unmodernized with the dark wood and beams lining the ceiling. As if you were to carve into the wood, it'd have a story or two to tell you.

Before I can wander any further down the rabbit hole, my thoughts are interrupted by Professor Whitmore. “Good afternoon, students of Trinity Falls Academy. It brings me great pleasure, as it does every year, to introduce the children of Florentine’s school.” He pauses as if a clap is going to come, but thankfully, nothing does. “New students, Trinity Falls Academy is split into four quadrants. I've mentioned them to you previously, but as a refresher, it is based on the supernatural ability, or lack thereof.”

I cringe at the use of the word ‘lack’ as my heart ricochets in my chest, knowing full well I'm going to be someone in the morelackingcategory.

“Witches, wolves, vampires, and humans,” he declares, and a round of applause sounds from behind us, along with wolf whistles and cheers as each group is mentioned. And I can't help but think that there are humans in this room unaffected by the terms he's using. That must be a good sign, right?

Whitmore basks in the euphoria until the noise simmers down for him to continue. “Everyone here is cursed by blood, and among this crowd is the knowledge that your blood kin is here too.”

The room falls deathly silent as my heart all but stops in my chest. My breath lodges so tightly in my throat, I'm certain death is here as I repeat his words in my mind. My blood kin.

My. Blood. Kin.

Goosebumps ripple over my skin as panic and horror make my vision grow spotty. Do they know whoIam? Can I find out whotheyare? What would I do if I did?

As if sensing my thoughts, Whitmore's eyes find mine in the crowd. “No one will know in advance. Only on the rightful day,when it is your time, will you know who your blood kin is. I should also bring it to your attention that, as you stepped into the academy, a sigil will have taken root. It masks every student present with the inability to provide their specific birth details. Now, I know what your first concern is, birthdays, and of course, we're still going to celebrate them. They're just going to take place a little differently from now on. Not that you have many more to celebrate here, but in that instance, we will celebrate birthdays as a whole for each month. On the fifteenth of every month, anyone born in that month shall be celebrated. Yes, that may help narrow down who your blood kin could be, but it will still leave an element hidden. This is a priority because deep down, above all else, the fact still remains that the blood curse does not change. If one of you dies, both of you die.”

I think I’m going to be sick. Every word out of his mouth makes my fate more and more real.

“Until the right time, of course, it is our aim to provide everyone with the opportunity to survive, and the first step we must take in offering this is giving the Florentine students a chance to experience the housing chalice,” he continues, like he’s not breaking my soul.

Murmurs echo around the room once again, leaving me just as curious as before. A housing chalice? What does that even mean? I glance down the line to my left and right, noting the similar expression on everyone’s faces, but not one of us asks.

There’s no need, not when the look on Whitmore’s face tells us it's clear he's going to continue. And with his next words, he leaves me breathless. “Not only will it offer you the acknowledgement of potential supernatural blood in your veins, but it will also allow one of the sigils placed on you to release from your body. Not the one protecting your connection to your blood kin, but one from many years ago. The one that contains the secret of your name.”

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