Page 16

POLARIS

Dear Diary,

Men are dumb. Like, dumb dumb.

Why do I like assholes? I’m starting to think it’s a me issue and not a them issue because I can’t help but attract them, but worse than that, I crave their attention.

They’re not all assholes, but the balance is real.

I joked that Blaze could give Lincoln a run for his money when it came to his attitude, but it seems Lincoln is hot on Blaze’s heels for doing what he pleases without actually considering my feelings.

Knowing everything I know now, as jumbled as it still is, I think it’s clear to see that our lives are even more entangled than any of them could imagine. Especially Tatum and Blaze; they both hold the same coin I do.

It feels important, and I think I need to talk to one of them about it. Maybe Tatum, he’s the safer option. Either way, I’ll be sure to be back here tonight to report whether I’ve had to knee anybody in the balls or not.

Polaris x

S etting my diary on my nightstand, I exhale slowly, trying to gain control over my rambling thoughts.

I was hoping writing something down would help clear them, but it seems I’m not at the root cause yet because I’m still a mess.

Maybe that’s more to do with the ache that lingers between my thighs than anything else, but I refuse to dwell on that fact.

Not after I gave Lincoln an ultimatum and he left regardless.

Maybe I shouldn’t have done that. Maybe I should regret trying to force his hand, but I can’t deal with the games any longer. I’m more than just my body, and that’s all he seems to want.

Desperation and frustration cling to my thoughts, forcing me from my bed and over to my armoire. I don’t look at my reflection as I pull out my clothes, the visual that played in the mirror last night is still too vivid for me to unsee it.

Choosing a pair of leggings and a tank top, I opt for an oversized sweater to finish off the ensemble, aware I’ve got combat this morning. Maybe the exercise will help me.

I twist my silver locks into a bun and secure it in place on top of my head, instantly remembering I could have gone with something prettier if I had used my magic.

I could blame my brain fog, but it’s no excuse.

I’m still adjusting to being a witch, but since there’s still so much else going on, it’s not getting my full attention.

My gaze finally latches on my reflection and I stand up taller, nodding at myself as I silently vow to do better. I’ve said it a million times already, but after Lincoln left last night, I’m back to being reminded that I can’t keep putting others at the top of my priority list if I’m not on theirs.

I’m going to survive this place if it’s the last thing I do. It’s time to start being selfish. I don’t know why I stopped. Maybe it was the attention, maybe it was the idea of friends, or maybe… there are far too many ‘maybes’ to consider and I just need to focus on the facts.

I’m a witch—a mind witch—and I better start acting like one.

Reaching for my sand, I take a pinch and whisper the words along my tongue, watching as my hair unravels, twisting into a neat French braid running down my back.

Satisfied, I tuck my pouch of sand into my pocket and reach for my bag.

My grimoire weighs it down, but the pull against my shoulder as I secure the straps in place works as a reminder of what is important today.

As I reach my bedroom door, all set to make a pit stop at the bathroom before heading out, a jolt of nerves runs through my body. I’m sure my day won’t be calm. Not with the wolves, and certainly not with Blaze, but the need for some form of normalcy prevails.

I consider texting Bryony, but decide to go in search of her instead. So I take a deep breath, ready to face the day ahead. Swinging the door open, I only take half a step before I’m frozen in place.

My heart lurches into my throat, my pulse ringing in my ears as I blink profusely at the sight in the hallway. A gasp rasps from my lips as my hand slams against my chest and the sound alerts the sleeping man propped up against the wall across from my bedroom door.

Not just any man.

The man at the top of my hate list.

“You’re ready,” he mutters, swiping a hand down his face before he slowly rises to his feet.

I clear my throat, easing the tightness in my chest. “And you’re… here.”

Guilt sweeps across his face for the briefest second, a look completely out of place compared to his normally thunderous expression. He leans back against the wall, eyes looking anywhere but at mine as he scrubs at the back of his neck. “My ego wouldn’t let me knock on your door, but…”

My pulse quickens once again as the silence stretches out between us. But I remember my pep talk from moments ago and attempt to encourage him along.

“But…”

His eyes meet mine, hooded and conflicted.

“But nothing.” He lifts his head with the declaration, or lack thereof, and I scoff, remembering the man I’m dealing with.

“So to clarify, you’re here because my words meant something to you, but it does nothing to stop you being a total ass?” I clarify, and he rolls his eyes.

“Are we heading for breakfast or not?”

Oh, hell no. I’m not doing this. “I am, you can do as you please,” I state, moving to step past him, but his hand wraps around my arm instantly.

My eyes snap to his as he sighs. “I couldn’t leave.”

I can’t deny the fact that my heart rate accelerates at the verbal acknowledgment, but there has to be more to it than that. “I’m aware, Lincoln.”

He nods, uncertainty dancing in his eyes as he releases his hold on me. “I still left your room.”

I think he’s searching for clarity on where we stand right now, but that’s not something I can offer. I didn’t expect to see him here, not after the way he left.

“Also aware,” I reply, the words sharper than I intend.

“Midnight,” he breathes, lifting his hand toward me again, but I step away, avoiding his touch. “You’re supposed to answer me,” he murmurs, and I scoff.

“And you’re supposed to actually ask a question. On top of that, you’re supposed to be mature and learn that you don’t just get everything you want because you say so.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” he grumbles, and the fact that there’s not even a slight hint of humor or amusement in his voice confirms he’s still not ready to pull his head out of his ass.

I consider starting a tally of kneeing assholes in the balls, but decide my words seem to stick better when it comes to him.

“Do you know what else is ridiculous, Lincoln?” I ask, swiftly proceeding before he has a second to respond. “Leaving like you did last night. Now it seems we’re both dealing with the consequences of your actions.”

I spin on my heels and march for the stairs before he can say another word. Or even worse, I let him fuck away the memory of him abandoning me again.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Bryony asks, keeping pace at my side as I storm away from the witches' dorms. Thankfully, she was in the common area waiting for me, but the second I didn’t stop, she knew something wasn’t quite right.

“I’m great,” I insist, my voice lighter than usual, giving me away, and she offers me a pointed look.

“You don’t seem great.”

I roll my eyes but remain focused on heading to the dining hall. “There’s an asshole trailing us who can probably hear everything I have to say and he doesn’t deserve the insight,” I grumble. Bryony glances over her shoulder and, just as expected, two words ring in my ears a moment later.

“I can.”

“See,” I exclaim with wide eyes, pointing my thumb back at the asshole in question while Bryony blinks at me in confusion.

“Wait… what have I missed?”

Before I have a chance to answer, I spy Minnie waiting by the double doors. Even among the sea of people darting in every direction, I still spot my friends easily. Any joy and relief I feel from seeing her is short lived as she glances over my shoulder and a grin spreads across her lips.

I offer her a tight smile as I approach, but again, I don’t slow down. It doesn’t stop her from flanking my other side as she nudges my shoulder.

“Hey, are you the reason my brother didn’t come home last night?”

My cheeks heat as I continue to stomp my way toward the dining hall, the smell of food making my stomach growl with need. “I’m going to be the reason your brother is castrated,” I offer, and she barks a laugh.

“No fun, that’s my joke, but for real, what the hell happened? You left last night and?—”

I slam to a stop at the doors leading into the dining hall, whirling around to face her with a serious look. “I’m not talking about this with you.”

Her eyebrows crinkle in confusion for a second before understanding washes over her face. “Oh, ew, that’s probably for the best.”

Bryony snickers to my right, and I shake my head at them, acutely aware of the tingles at the back of my neck, confirming the fact that Lincoln is still near.

Before meeting Bryony, I slipped into the bathroom, panicked he was going to follow me in, but to my surprise, he waited outside. When I crossed his path again, he kept his mouth shut and his hands to himself. Is it bad that I think my frustration and rage grew stronger with the fact?

Even now I want his hands on me.

Fuck.

Minnie links her arm through mine, tugging me to the right, and my steps falter until I manage to draw to a stop at the end of the long wolves’ table.

“You’re sitting with us, right?” Minnie asks, and I freeze, my cheeks still burning as I feel as though every single person in here is watching me.

They’re not, I know they’re not, but I have the gut feeling that the wolves are, and a particular vampire, too.

“Actually, I?—”

Liquid splashes in my face at full force, stiffening my spine and drenching me. My lips part as I glance to the left, searching out where the hell the source came from to find a wolf sneering at me.

Fuck.

“What the fuck, Bianca?” Minnie snarls, beating me to it as I remain frozen in place, covered in a sticky orange substance. Maybe orange juice isn’t quite my favorite anymore.

“I’m done with this bitch thinking she can take what’s mine.

Agreements aren’t to be broken. Wylder is mine, and if you even think about coming anywhere near the fucking wolves’ table, I’ll do more than throw a drink on you.

Do you understand?” Every word from her lips has her taking a step toward me until we’re toe to toe.

Her eyes swirl with gold flecks as she gets in my face, but before my mind can compute an answer of any kind, my body decides to do the talking.

My fingers trail over the rim of a silver tray and I swipe it from the table, feeling the contents of food tumble onto the wood.

But I don’t pay it any mind as I lift it in the air and smash it across her face.

The sound echoes around the room, ringing in my ears as the entire place falls silent, another embarrassing scene unraveling around me.

Bianca screams, hand planted against her face as she stumbles back a step, but before she has the opportunity to retaliate, Lincoln steps between us, blocking me from her view.

I’m done with this bullshit from her. I don’t know what fucking agreement she’s talking about, and Wylder has never hinted at the fact that he’s hers, so why am I having to deal with any of this?

My chest heaves with every breath as the ringing in my ears subsides and I realize what I just did. My hand flies to my mouth as I gape in horror. “I didn’t mean to do that,” I mutter, spying Bryony still on my right, but before she gets a chance to respond, there’s a voice behind me.

“Yeah you did, Amica Mea.”

Tingles zip up my spine as I glance over my shoulder to find Blaze a breath away from me. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes, but it’s paired with a slightly puzzled expression.

“You can fuck off too,” I snap, refusing to deal with him as well. My morning has been filled with enough and I haven’t even managed to eat yet.

“Need another?” he offers, nodding to the table, and I shake my head.

I side step him as I inch away from the wolf table. Bianca glowers at me and the guilt I felt moments ago washes away as I straighten my spine and stand as tall as I can, despite the juice still clinging to my clothes.

“I’m taking my breakfast to go.”