28. Polaris
28
POLARIS
“ L et’s try that again, but this time, you bring your elbow to here, just like that…yeah, just there. Your opponent will feel a lot more strength from you there.” Wylder beams down at me, his eyes wide with encouragement.
His intense presence makes me feel…things. A lot of things.
Every time he redirects or maneuvers me into a new position, his body ends up draped all over mine—from head to toe—and the glassy look in his eyes tells me he knows exactly what he’s doing.
Running my tongue over my bottom lip for what feels like the thousandth time, I nod in understanding as he stares down at me expectantly. At the same time, I’m also acutely aware that much of this information is unlikely to stick, given his proximity making it impossible to work on all cylinders.
The way the corner of his mouth twitches, just on the left side, makes me think he knows that too.
“Let’s start wrapping things up, class; we have five minutes,” the professor hollers, her voice like a razor through the tension thickening the air around me. It’s like she pops a bubble I didn’t realize I was in and the rest of the world comes back into focus.
I jolt, stepping out of Wylder’s hold before I spin to face him.
“Play me through that sequence,” he says encouragingly, and I gulp, frantically trying to piece it all together in my mind.
“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” I insist, glancing anywhere but at him. I’m startled by the number of people hitting the grass over and over again as they fight with more strength than I can fathom.
Dammit.
I’m not going to last more than five minutes. I shouldn’t have lasted this long. I wouldn’t have if Wylder hadn’t taken it upon himself to try and help me. What a fat load of good that has done.
“Hey, focus on me, Polaris,” he murmurs, his deep voice settling me as he cuts the little distance between us to grip my chin.
My breath is lodged in my throat as he uses his hold on my chin to make me nod in agreement.
The sound of someone clearing their throat breaks through our moment and I snap my gaze to the right to find Professor Drummond with her hands planted firmly on her hips.
“I can’t declare a winner if neither of you hit the deck,” she states, talking directly to Wylder as though I don’t exist. I can read between the lines, though. She’s encouraging him to drop me so she can call it. Rightfully so, I guess.
I attempt to step back, but Wylder locks his other hand around my wrist while his grip on my chin tightens, making it impossible. I frown at him, watching as his jaw tightens.
“Make the move, Polaris.” The way his nostrils flare leaves no room for argument.
He’s not going to quit it until I do; only now I have the added audience of Professor Drummond to make it even worse. I either get on with it or risk the audience growing even further.
Dammit, Wylder.
Flustered and desperate, I take a step back, only this time, he lets me go, aware that he has me under his control regardless. My shoulders rise and fall as I take a deep breath, silently going over the moves he’s drilled into me for the past hour.
Any inkling of doubt or indecisiveness disappears when he takes two steps toward me, arms raised, ready to attack. He’s moving quicker than before, exposing his purpose, and before I can come up with an excuse or slip to the side, I lift my hands, just as he taught me. My knees dip just an inch, giving into the motion as my left hand connects with his forearm, while my right hand presses against his neck, encouraged along by my right leg that crosses in front of me to wrap around the back of his leg.
Just as he promised, he topples over and hits the mat with a thud .
He grins up at me with wild eyes as I pant, disbelief coursing through my body as I stare down at him.
I did it.
I actually freaking did it.
“Impressive, Little Witch. Help me up,” he says with a megawatt smile, and I tentatively offer him my hand. His palm is warm against mine, fueling the inferno that burns deep inside me as he uses me to haul himself back up. I don’t offer anything but my hand, not even a tidbit of strength. I’m still gaping in awe. “You can declare it now, Professor,” he adds, peering at Drummond, who is still assessing us.
She offers little more than a hum before she continues around the mats. When I turn my attention back to the dominating wolf that has consumed my morning, I find the smile on his face still burning bright.
“If anyone acknowledges that you took me down, I’ll deny it,” he states, his grin infectious as I nod, his palm still pressed against mine.
“Of course you will,” I murmur a second before he yanks me close, pulling me into a half hug before he steps back and releases my hand.
“I just don’t want a bad rep. Not when I have a fight this weekend,” he adds, and my brows furrow in confusion.
“A fight?”
“Yeah, down at The Aurum,” he explains, glancing around the open space, but when he turns back to me, he must notice the confusion on my face. “You’ve heard of the golden ring, right?”
My eyebrows rise, a slight wince crinkling the corners of my eyes as I shake my head. “Florentine, remember?”
“Right, shit, I forgot about that. Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” I insist, but he doesn’t acknowledge my words as he plants his hands on his hips, raking his eyes over me from head to toe three times before he settles on my face again.
“You’re going to be there, right?”
“Be where?”
I can’t focus on anything when he’s looking at me like that.
“At the golden ring.”
“Are we going to acknowledge the fact that I don’t really have a clue what you’re talking about?” I ask, and he rolls his eyes dramatically.
“What don’t you know?”
The sound of Bryony’s voice cuts through the air and I bristle. If either of them notice, none of them say a word.
“Perfect, your friend can be your chaperone,” he explains, brushing a loose hair over my shoulder with a wink before he takes a step back and turns to Bryony. “I want Polaris at The Aurum, Friday night. I’m sure you know the drill.” She nods, not questioning him further as the bell rings through the air, drawing an end to the class. “Excellent. Don’t be late,” he orders, wagging a finger at Bryony, who nods in understanding before he turns his attention back to me. “For all of my help today, maybe you could repay the favor and bring back the black hair for then too.”
Without another word, he’s gone, taking my fluttering heartbeat with him.
“What on Earth was that?” Bryony asks, nudging her arm against mine, and I shake my head.
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
Nerves ripple through me as I rock back on my heels, staring at the door before me like it’s going to speak. I wonder if it could talk, what it would share.
I’m not the first to have a class on the other side of the threshold, I’m not the first to require knowledge on the sigil that binds my magic, and I certainly won’t be the last. That being said, I still need to head in there and seek it. There’s an invisible vice over me, holding me back from God only knows what, and if I want any chance of following through on my word to myself, then there’s promise in those walls that is unattainable anywhere else.
The bell rings and students move around me, carrying on down the hallway or breaking away into the room in front of me.
Terence and Sian appear from my right, ignoring my presence as they slip into the room, and I somehow muster the strength to scurry in after them. There’s no magic that washes over me as I step inside, no sudden epiphany, nothing. Just the view of a classroom, styled like all the rest, only this one has duck-egg-blue walls and beechwood furnishings outlining the space, but there are no desks or chairs. There’s simply an aubergine-colored square rug in the center.
A dainty woman floats around the edges of the room, lighting candles and burning what looks like sage as she goes, while familiar students gather on the large rug, sitting cross-legged. I hover around the outskirts, everyone else from Florentine’s with me.
Pressing my lips together, I peer to my left and see Sian standing with her head down, arms folded over her chest, and her gaze downcast. Terence is right beside her, and as the door clicks shut, B’s absence is noticeable.
I consider keeping my mouth shut, but apparently, that’s impossible as I take a small step toward my old…friend? Acquaintance?
“Go away, P,” Sian mutters without lifting her head, and my nostrils flare, irritation itching under my skin.
“It’s Polaris,” I snap, the snarl to my tone making her gaze dart to mine, even with her head still tilted down. “Have you seen Benjamin?” I ask, getting straight to the point of why I was inching toward her to begin with.
“Why would I have seen him?” she grunts, frowning at me.
“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 should have 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’s you asking 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.
Florentine’s didn’t teach us about the blood kin curse. They merely taught us to fear it. Rightfully so, I guess. Fearing it is the right action, but other than summarizing that fact, we know little else.
“I’m going to take your silence as an acknowledgment that there’s more for you to know. Would you agree?” Sommers asks, and I nod, even though I wasn’t the one to speak out to begin with. I’m not the only one, though. Almost everyone nods. All of us who are new, it seems. “The blood kin curse began almost four hundred years ago. The story goes that a witch who fell in love with a vampire, a wolf, and a human was left heartbroken when the quadrants denied their love among supernaturals. That love, uniting all, was tainted by the prejudice of others. She was so heartbroken when the war broke out, killing her men, that she tainted their ancestral lines for all of eternity. Witches included, because no quadrant offered her a sliver of grace. None but a few humans, but by the time she learned of this, it was too late.”
I gape at her, as do the others, hanging on her every word as we learn where all of this began. It doesn’t feel fair to be tangled in a blood curse because of someone else’s views. Just because I have a blood connection to those who hurt her, whoever she actually was, doesn’t mean I would have the same views as them…does it?
To love multiple men and have them love you back…what must that be like?
My cheeks heat as my heart races faster.
“How has a cure not been found after so many years?” Helena asks, and I hum in agreement, confused about how we’re still here after so long.
Professor Sommers sighs like she feels the same confusion we do. “There is a whole faculty of witches, humans, vampires, and wolves dedicated to finding an answer. Why one hasn’t been found yet is unknown, and all we can hope for is the answer to reveal itself one day soon. Until then, we have to figure out what part of your past you must recall to unlock the sigil from your body.”