Page 72 of Savage Hope

“He’s your boyfriend, and I haven’t seen him on campus since?—”

“Boyfriend? He’s not her boyfriend. Not anymore. Isn’t that right, Sian?” Terence interjects, wrapping his arms around her as he steps up behind her.

It’s intimate.

The way she stands tall at his closeness, the way he strokes his thumb over her stomach, resting his chin on her shoulder. She doesn’t seem to lean into him, yet there’s an air to her that pulls strength from him.

“Boyfriend or not, one of our friends hasn’t been seen since he was announced as a human.”

“That’s really not our problem, P,” Terence states, a slight grin on his mouth that I want to punch right off. Maybe I shouldhave insisted Wylder teach me that instead. “We’re vampires; well, Sian and I are, not you. You’re lucky we’re even talking to you, but a human?” He scoffs like the word is rancid on his tongue. “A human is none of our concern.”

I snicker, no humor to the sound, as I glare at the asshole I wasted so much time kissing. Does it even count as kissing? Not in comparison to the little experience I’ve gained since being here, that’s for sure.

“Are you forgetting that we were all at Florentine’s being treated as humans, believing we were humans?” I grumble, and he rolls his eyes at me like my words are beneath him. “But don’t you worry yourself over it,T,” I grind out, forcing myself to take a step backward and outwardly using the initial to address him. “I’m sure there will come a time when it’syouasking for help, and I’m going to take great pleasure in telling you to fuck off.”

My cheeks warm with rage instead of the usual embarrassment as Sian gapes at me while Terence shakes his head in amusement. It’s on the tip of my tongue to call him a cunt, since he fits Bryony’s description so well, but the professor speaks, interrupting the foot-stomping tantrum that was about to unravel.

“Good afternoon, class. For those who are new, please take a seat. My name is Professor Sommers. My specialty is sigils—not only the ones holding you captive, but all sigils.” She waves her hand toward the rug, encouraging everyone to take a seat. I find the closest inch of carpet and sit cross-legged, unsurprised when Sian and Terence opt to sit as far away from me as possible. “Now, let us swiftly make our way around the room. Each person, both new and old, please state your name and the item you believe to be binding your sigil,” she commands gently, continuing to float around the room. Her worn denim overalls hang off one shoulder, rolled up over her ankles as she takes each step barefoot.

She points toward a girl a few spots away from me, who clears her throat. As she tilts her head to the side, I recognize her profile immediately. She must have left Florentine’s the year before we did, which would make her twenty-one already.

I gulp, panic clawing at my chest.

Twenty-one and still bound by her sigil, yet still alive? Does she know who her blood kin is? How is she surviving right now?

“I’m Beth-Ann, and my anklet holds my sigil.” She points at her ankle but doesn’t lift her jeans to reveal the item mentioned.

The circle continues, quickly shifting to the newest arrivals, each listing their new-found names, and I quickly learn that D and H, the other witches from Florentine's, are indeed Danica and Helena. The former’s sigil is a ring on her pinky finger, while the latter has a pair of earrings that are locked in place.

“My name is Sian, and my sigil is my pendant,” she explains, tapping at her chest with a familiar heaviness.

Terence clears his throat and I opt to look anywhere but at him. “My name is Terence, I’m a vampire, and this damn bracelet is restricting my powers,” he grunts, lifting his hand to reveal a golden chain encasing his wrist.

All eyes turn my way as I glare at Terence and his insistence on stating what supernatural he is. I rub my lips together nervously for a second before I find my voice. “My name is Polaris, and my sigil is these bangles,” I state, lifting my hands just enough for the sleeves to roll down, revealing them both.

I want their presence to feel real in the room. I want the professor to feel their weight around my wrists. I want to hear the words from my lips. I want to be proud of them, but more than that, I want to be rid of them. Losing them from my wrists doesn’t mean I have to lose them altogether. They’re a representation of my past, and when all is said and done, I will keep them as a reminder of what I’ve faced.

Dropping my hands, my fingers twitch, and I give in to the urge to slip my hand into my pocket, feeling my coin. I take a deep breath, a real one. One that leaves me grounded and focused.

“Today is about understanding why your sigils were put in place,” Professor Sommers explains, finally rounding to a stop as she sits on the open window sill, legs crossed like the rest of us. “These sigils were placed on you to stop your abilities, making it easier to control you. To do so, they must use a piece of your past to impact your future. It is your job to unravel your past to unlock your future.”

That sounds far easier said than done.

“The root of all of this, as with everything here, comes down to one thing and one thing only: the blood kin curse. A curse I’m sure you know little about.”

I frown, her words hanging in the air.

“Of course we know about the blood kin curse. We’re living with it,” Danica grumbles, speaking my thoughts, and the soft, polite smile that Professor Sommers offers her is the kind of look I imagine you would give to a child who dropped their ice cream on the floor.

Pitiful.

“Think about it. Think about what you know other than the fact you’re living with it. I’ll give you a moment.” Surprisingly, despite her words, her tone isn’t as condescending as I expected, and instead of taking offense, I take her advice.

I think.

I think, and I think, and I think.

And…she’s right.

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