16. Polaris
16
POLARIS
I was wrong.
There is something I could lose…my damn hearing. How is it possible to be out in the woods, a stone’s throw from where I was earlier, hiding out from the world, yet feel like I'm in the pits of some music mosh pit or something?
There are bodies everywhere.
The music is loud, I can barely hear myself think, but I quickly learned that it's all part of some crazy magical mirage created by the witches to soundproof the area. You wouldn't know by looking, but Bryony explained it’s from the sand drawn around the perimeter. And she was right. Before I stepped through the entry point, I didn't hear a thing. It was only when we crossed over the threshold that everything changed.
Follow the sand.
That's what she said to me yesterday. Now, seeing it in this form makes it clear what she meant when she said it. Following the sand will lead you to the witches, not just the witches’ dorm, as I'd initially assumed.
Barely over the threshold, the music thumps around us, the ground shaking from the base as I gape at the array of bodies dancing, laughing, singing, and screaming. What holds my attention most is the fact that I can clearly see factions mingling amongst each other. There are no wolves in one corner and vampires in another. People I recognize dance together in the center of the space as if factions don’t exist. It’s not an impossible thought either; I didn’t know they existed until yesterday. If I hadn’t seen it for myself today, how it’s a faction-eat-faction world here, I wouldn’t believe it. Yet, humans, witches, wolves, and vampires are all willingly together.
I don't see Blaze in the mix, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t here. Hopefully, my black hair will deter him from me altogether.
Turning to Bryony, I clear my throat. “I thought everyone hated each other?” I shout over the music, and Bryony shrugs as she follows my line of sight.
“They do,” she hollers back, making me frown.
“But I thought factions don’t mix?” I retort, intrigued, but all she does is shrug again.
“They don't,” she offers, but this time, she looks at me, and I raise my eyebrows. Thankfully, it encourages her to provide a little more explanation. She leans in so she doesn’t have to shout so loud and murmurs in my ear. “A full moon wolf party is different. What happens at a full moon wolf party stays at a full moon wolf party,” she says with a grin on her face as she leans back.
“If you say so,” I murmur, more to myself than anything. I’m almost sure she didn’t hear me, but the wink she offers confirms that she did.
Tilting my face at her, I can't help but question her more. “That looks like experience in your eyes.”
She taps her nose, the same sign she used earlier to declare she won’t spill any more details. “It stays at the full moon wolf party, remember?” She smirks before pointing off to the side. “Now, let's get a drink, and then we're dancing,” she insists, wrapping her fingers around my arm and tugging me around the perimeter.
Any chance of refusal dies on my lips as the energy that booms around us seeps into my bones. I'm too intrigued and curious to leave now. That doesn't mean I have to partake. I need to talk her out of dancing, but being here, in general, doesn't seem too much of an issue.
Yet.
A corner of the space is set up with an array of drinks behind it. Neon lights curl to spell out the word “bar” in bright blue, followed by “free drinks” in hot pink.
I let Bryony do the ordering before she hands me a brown bottle. My nose crinkles instantly as I bring it to my nose, not appreciating the smell.
“What is that?”
“Beer,” she states, a hint of confusion in her tone, and my nose crinkles further. “Wait, you haven’t even had a beer?” The question is evident in her statement, and her jaw falls slack. I shake my head, looking down the neck of the bottle at the brown concoction inside.
“Not even a beer,” I clarify before I can bring the bottle to my lips. She rips it from my hand before I can dare taste it, scowling at the bottle as though it’s offended her.
“You're right. That definitely can't be the first alcoholic drink you ever taste.” She turns back to the guy behind the bar, and his eyes are already settled on me.
“First drink?” he repeats, clearly having heard our conversation, and I can feel my cheeks heat. I’ve never been more grateful for poor lighting in hopes that it hides my embarrassment.
He stares at me expectantly, waiting for confirmation, but I’m too locked onto his hazel eyes. They swirl with grit and fire, pain and fury, yet the softness he offers me feels almost unnatural. His blond hair is cropped, almost all the way, and his bulky frame is overwhelming. I’m not sure if his muscles have muscles, but the way his sleeves dig into his biceps only seems to confirm my suspicions.
Suddenly remembering that he’s waiting for an answer, I feel my cheeks burn so much I’m sure they’re going to burst into flames, so I quickly find his gaze and nod.
“Yes,” I admit, already hating myself for the single word response, but he smiles at me. It’s so short I could have imagined it, but the words that follow are more reassuring than they should be.
“Don't worry, I've got you,” he says, his eyes darkening just a touch before he turns around to run his gaze over the bottles behind him. After a few seconds, he reaches for one high up. I watch him break the seal, twisting the cap and grabbing a tiny glass before pouring the liquid into it.
He places it on the bar between us, and all I can do is stare at it as Bryony leans closer. “That better not have been messed with,” she states with a bite that could rival the growl of a wolf, and the guy steps back with his hands raised in surrender.
“You just watched me break the seal. That means nothing has been messed with,” he grumbles, his nostrils flaring with irritation as my eyes flick between them both.
“Messed with?” I ask, scared that I don’t want to know the answer when her eyes widen.
“Drugged,” she clarified.
Horror seeps into my bones and I take an instinctive step back. I might not know much, but we at least learned about drugs at Florentine’s. Before I can bolt, she grabs my arm, a soft laugh parting her lips as she attempts to offer me a reassuring smile.
“I think this experience is going to be way more intense than either of us anticipated,” she says, tugging me back toward her. “All I’m saying is, he better not be a cunt. Now, a cunt is a guy like Blaze who thinks he’s a gift from God when he’s really a warden from hell,” she explains, earning a snicker of agreement from me before she proceeds. “The other kind of a cunt is someone who will try to drug people to do things they may not want to. Okay?” She turns me to face her head-on now, hands planted on my shoulders as she stares into my eyes. “‘No’ is a whole sentence. ‘No’ is enough of an answer, but there are some dick for brains around these parts. You have to be focused at all times, Polaris.”
“Polaris, that's a pretty name.”
My gaze darts to the guy behind the bar as my lips press together. It's not embarrassment that tinges my cheeks pink this time, but I'm still thankful that the poor lighting hides it all the same.
“I don't think I want this drink,” I mutter, unable to respond to his compliment as I push the little glass away, and Bryony scoffs.
“Oh, you want it. Not the drugs, but the high from the tequila.”
The guy pulls another glass and pours a drink for Bryony too. Nerves tingle through my veins, but I reach for my glass anyway and Bryony clinks hers against mine before downing her own.
The familiar question reverberates through my mind. What do I have to lose?
The guy looks at me expectantly, and I feel myself on the verge of drinking him in instead of the liquid in the glass. I've already been stupid enough to react to some of the guys on campus. I can't keep distracting myself like that, so I quickly bring the glass to my lips and toss my head back.
Just like I watched Bryony, I slam the glass down on the bar as the liquor burns down my throat. I can't help but cough and splutter for what feels like an eternity before I turn a deathly glare to both of them.
“That's awful.”
Bryony chucks her head back with a laugh while the guy grins at me. I feel his eyes raking up and down the length of my body as he speaks.
“It's tequila. It’s strong as fuck, but better than a beer for your first taste.”
Bryony cheers at that, grabbing my beer bottle off the table as she moves it toward me, but the guy interjects, sweeping it back behind the bar before I can reach it.
“Hold off on that for a while. Let the tequila take effect first. We don't want you comatose, not at your first full moon wolf party. We throw too many of these for you to bow out so soon,” he says with a wink, and I smile, murmuring my thanks as Bryony sighs.
“Fine, party pooper, let's go dance instead.”
Dammit.
My mouth falls slack, my refusal falling short as the guy pats the bar separating us.
“Nice meeting you, Polaris.”
“Nice, meeting you too,” I mutter helplessly in response.
“It's Wylder,” he states as Bryony starts to tug me away, and I frown,
“Wylder?”
“The name that you're looking for. That's me. See you around, Polaris,” he says with a megawatt grin, and I suddenly have no interest in following after Bryony.
Could he tell me more about the Alpha Pack?
I could ask, but just like every other moment since I arrived here, it's not my choice. Yanked onto the dance floor, I’m surrounded by a sea of bodies and the beat seems to vibrate through the ground, into my feet, through my legs, and into my hips, making them sway from side to side. I dance to music I've never heard before. I think it's more euphoric than the taste of the liquor that still burns my throat.
My eyelids close and the world shifts away as I feel the most exuberant vibe through my body. I have no idea how much time has passed—a minute, ten, an hour, a year?
That's extreme, but it feels like the best time of my life until my feet start to ache. I'm certain I can't shake my ass any longer. Prying my eyes open, I find Bryony dancing with the guy who invited her to the party earlier.
I wave a hand at her and she peers at me. “I’m going to find somewhere to sit,” I holler, and she moves to step away from the guy, but I wave my hand frantically. “Stay. I just need to sit,” I insist before working my way through the sea of people once again.
I take a deep breath when I'm in a less crowded space and find the closest spot to sit. It's a fallen tree trunk, but it will do. Resting my elbows on my knees, I catch my breath as I watch the party unravel around me. Sweat beads at my forehead, sticking my hair to the back of my neck, but I can’t fight the smile on my face.
It's freeing.
There's no stress out here, no issues, no inter-faction treachery.
Watching everybody mingle, dance, and have fun with one another is amazing, especially when I can’t tell who is who because everyone is simply connected.
One word and my heart clenches.
Connected.
Everybody here has someone they're connected with on another level, like no one else. Everybody here faces the death penalty by the time we turn twenty-two at the hands of somebody else here, present right now. At this time, in two years, only half of us will remain.
That thought alone is sobering, but my brooding is halted as a guy sits down beside me.
“Hey, baby,” he purrs, throwing his arm around my shoulders. “I don't like a girl like you looking so lonely. Why don't you join me in this beer?” His eyes are blown wide, a bottle extended my way, but I'm already shaking my head.
The fact doesn't seem to matter, though; he's still nudging the bottle into my hands.
Retreating as best as I can, I clear my throat. “I’m good, but thanks,” I insist, hoping he'll take the hint. Instead, he drops his hand from my shoulder to the small of my back, running his fingers over my bare skin.
My hands curl into fists in my lap.
Is this a cunt like Bryony was talking about earlier?
Turning back to him, I keep my facial expressions neutral. “No, thank you,” I state proudly, the words firm, but instead of removing his hand like I'm expecting, his fingers creep higher.
“Remove your hand from me, or I'll do it for you,” I state, anger coiling through my veins like I’ve never felt before, but it only brings a smirk to his lips.
I have no idea where I just found the strength to stand my ground, and all he does is…smirk?
“Baby, I'm a vampire. I could lean in close and compel you to give me exactly what I want, and you'd have no say in it otherwise. Now, I don’t mind how you take it, but I always prefer my subject willing.”
My heart races in my chest. Bryony didn't mention this part when she described this kind of guy earlier. My eyes rake over him, figuring out where his weak points may be for me to attempt to hit him and run. With every second that passes, I become more and more aware of how na?ve I am to even think I could manage that, when a hand lands on my arm, tugging me to my feet.
“There you are, Midnight. I've been looking all over for you.” Lips press against my temple, stealing my breath as my skin heats.
The guy beside me quickly fumbles to his feet, panic washing over his features. “My bad, Linc. My bad. No harm, yeah?” the guy says, stumbling back a step as I'm locked in place, going from the embrace of one man to another, completely out of my comfort zone, as the new voice beside me grows darker.
“Yeah, your bad, man. Now fuck off.”