Page 27

POLARIS

I don’t think, I just do. Placing the chalice on my nightstand, I dip my hands into the liquid and bring it to my lips, my eyelids falling closed in the process.

It’s a replica of what I did on the first day I arrived here at Trinity Falls Academy, and my gut is telling me it’s going to work this time too.

Only, it won’t be my faction that is revealed, but the secrets held in the gold.

The liquid runs down my throat, leaving a warm path in its wake, which feels odd since it’s initially cool against my lips. It’s weirdly sweet too.

I wait a moment, hoping for a flicker of a memory to play on the back of my eyelids or something, but nothing comes. Nothing except a cool breeze dancing over my arms.

With a sigh, I let my hands fall away from my face as I pry my eyes open, slightly defeated, but the moment my gaze looks around my room, I fall short. It’s not the familiar four walls that greet me. It’s… something—some where— else.

A burnt orange roof sits above me, kept up by rickety slats that make up what looks like a barn. The first inkling I have is the fact that there’s a huge pile of hay off to my right and a horse settled behind a wooden gate on my left.

This is definitely not where I was a moment ago.

“What the…” My words trail off as I take a tentative step, the smell of fresh hay and horse manure in the air as the sound of laughter dances in the distance.

I don’t take any of it in, though, because the first step I take is uncomfortable, my toes squished, and when I look down the length of myself, I find I’m?—

“What the fuck am I wearing?” Lincoln grunts, appearing in front of me, and my gaze snaps in his direction.

My eyes widen, acknowledging his question, but I don’t have an answer as I take him in.

I don’t get a chance to make full note of his attire from head to toe because he’s in my face a moment later, finger aimed in my direction as a scathing look darkens his features.

“Don’t fucking do that,” he snaps, and I slam my palm against his chest, hoping to put some distance between us, but all it does is make me move.

The effort was there at least.

Sighing, I give him a pointed look. “Do what?”

He shakes his head in irritation, his hand dropping to his side as he glances around the barn. “Where the fuck are we?”

“I don’t know, Lincoln,” I grumble, still confused by his initial outburst, but my attention is once again distracted when Tatum appears a step to our left.

“Oh, thank God,” he mumbles, swooping me up in his arms a moment later as Wylder and Asher quickly appear in the same spot.

“What in the magic is going on?” Wylder asks, wrangling me from Tatum’s grasp so he can tuck me into his side.

“I don’t know,” I admit, my worry caught in a tug of war with itself. The lack of understanding of what is going on right now is outweighed by the company I now have, and it doesn’t feel as uneasy as it did when I was alone.

“More so, what the fuck are we wearing?” Asher grunts, and I slip from under Wylder’s arms so we can all take a moment to assess our attire.

Lincoln, Tatum, Wylder, and Asher are all wearing white shirts beneath black, worn suits. Shiny, overly polished shoes are at their feet, and their hair, apart from Wylder, is all swept back with the worst comb over I’ve ever seen.

I don’t make that fact known, not when they all have the first few buttons of their shirts undone, revealing just a hint of skin beneath, and I’m a goner. Their hair may have seen better days, but their get up brings out a whole other side to the wolves.

“You guys look hot at least,” I grumble, tilting my face down to take in my own clothes.

Square-heeled shoes adorn my feet, squeezing tighter than necessary, while a huge yellow dress puffs out in every direction.

The sleeves are unnecessary, and the corset around my waist makes it barely possible to breathe.

“We look… old,” Asher grumbles, but Wylder grins.

“It’s more vintage, and if it displays my Little Witch’s tits like that, then I’m all for it,” he states, drawing attention to the way my dress pushes my chest up toward my face.

I don’t engage in the topic with him, but my cheeks heat nonetheless. Attempting to brush him off with an eye roll, I flick my silvery hair over my shoulder and take a deep breath, but Lincoln speaks before I can formulate a sentence.

“What do we do?”

Tatum scoffs. “You’re the Alpha.”

Lincoln rolls his eyes before settling a heavy stare my way. “I didn’t bring us here.”

Instead of letting his words bring me down, I smile at him. “That would be me. Do you want me to be in charge, Lincoln?” I goad, and he grunts.

“No.”

“Too late,” I sing, sidestepping them as I head for the exit. Before I reach the barn door, I glance back over my shoulder at them. “I think we’re actually in a memory instead of simply viewing it,” I add before stepping outside.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” Lincoln mutters, and I sigh.

“You don’t like the sound of much,” I retort, and Wylder appears at my side a moment later, fist extended in my direction. I curl my hand into a fist and knock it against his, loving the beaming smile on his lips as I earn my first ever fist bump.

Lincoln grumbles something under his breath that I can’t quite hear, but I’m paying more attention to our surroundings. The dusty dirt road is poorly lit, but there’s another building across the way to the right with the lights on and the sound of music wafting through the air.

My gut tells me that’s where we need to go, so I grab a few layers of my dress and take off toward the noise.

“Where are you going now?” Lincoln gripes, and I fight back another eye roll.

“If you’re going to complain, you can wait here. I’m not dealing with your mood swings on top of not knowing what we’re all walking into,” I snap as Wylder tosses his arm around my shoulders.

“Feisty. I like it. That’s my witch,” he declares as I shake my head at his antics.

Approaching the building, I notice the sign above the door.

Pinky’s Tavern. That explains the music.

As we approach the door, it barrels open from the inside out as two men stumble over one another.

They’re too busy singing, swaying, and drunkenly laughing to pay us any mind.

Sidestepping them, we enter the tavern just as the music quiets down.

Rows and rows of chairs occupy the space, each one filled and aimed toward the far wall where a man stands.

There’s a gray top hat on his head and a cane in his hand.

I plaster myself to the back wall with Wylder to my left and the others spread to my right, each following suit as we try to blend in.

“Thank you all for joining me for what I hope will be a fine and productive evening. As many of you know, the factions that we call our own are under threat. Not a threat from the outside world. There’s no known supernatural hunter on the prowl and the truth of our existence isn’t on the brink of being released.

No. The threat comes from the inside. From our own.

” Gasped whispers fill the space, and my heart rate creeps up as worry settles in my gut.

“We all know who they are, but if you need me to spell it out for you, I’ll happily reel out their names.

Octantis, Jonah, Bracken, Felix, Timothe, and Belladora. ”

Wylder nudges my arm, pulling my attention to him. “Do you think that?—”

“The six of them make a coven like no other. The six of them together are a force I’m not willing to reckon with. The six of them should not be allowed any more time to flourish. Their time must come, and that time has to be now.”

Cheers ring through the air as I nod at Wylder. “The original six?”

His mouth sits in a thin line as he turns back to the man holding the entire tavern captive.

“Why?” Someone hollers from the crowd, and instead of becoming more enraged at the question, the leader grins.

“Well, I thought you would never ask.” He straightens the lapels on his jacket as he slowly paces back and forth on the small platform. “You see, when you hear the word coven, you assume that they’re all witches. Correct?”

Murmurs of agreement ring out, but the look on his face darkens.

“That’s where you would be wrong. You see, the only witches among the coven are Belladora and Octantis.

” He shakes his head with a grimace as the volume of the crowd lowers once more.

“Jonah is a human, a supernatural hunting human to be precise, while Bracken is a wolf. And to make matters worse, both Timothe and Felix are vampires. That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, when I say it’s a coven like no other, I don’t use such words lightly.

It’s because there is indeed no other coven that holds more than witches.

There are some from each faction, and I declare that we must put an end to it immediately.

” His voice thunders as he drives his point home and the crowd comes alive once again, chanting and hollering in agreement.

My heart aches, a pain I can’t explain holding me captive, and I can’t bear to listen anymore. Without glancing at the others, I beeline for the door, struggling to breathe until I make it outside into the dark night air.

I plant my hand on my chest, heaving in a breath as unshed tears settle in my eyes.

“That was… something else,” Tatum states, appearing at the side of me, and I fail to smile in acknowledgment.

“Imagine being the ones spoken about. Imagine loving someone for others to pass such judgment on. Not one thing he said was about how they had hurt anyone or shown signs of being a danger to their community. They just…” I sigh, shaking my head as I look down at the ground.

“They just loved each other,” Lincoln murmurs, completing my sentence as he joins us.

“They died for loving others outside of their factions,” Asher reiterates, driving the point home, and I feel like I’m going to be sick.

What would the people in there think of me?

Love? No, maybe, it can’t be, but I’ve made no effort to hide anything I’ve done for others to make judgment.

Defeated, I walk with my head down, eager to get back to the barn and figure out a way back from here. But I don’t get far before I hear the gentle sound of soft sobs coming from behind a large oak tree off to my right.

“It’s okay, Princess. It’s all going to be okay,” a man says, attempting to soothe a sobbing woman. She’s wrapped up in his arms, clinging to him like her life depends on it.

“I just want to love you, Jonah.”

My heart stills at the name on the woman’s lips and I freeze, allowing them to captivate me completely as the man leans back to brush a tendril of hair from her face.

“I know, Princess. We’ll figure this out. They can’t tear us apart, any of us, and the sooner they learn that, the better,” Jonah insists, his voice firm as, who I assume is Belladora, nods in acknowledgment.

“I would die for you. You know that, right?” she breathes, and I feel the weight of her words in my gut.

“That’s the only love I know, and it’s you, Princess,” Jonah promises, digging into his pocket to retrieve something small and shiny.

A coin.

“Jonah.”

“I’m going to love you in every lifetime, Belladora. This coin will forever be proof of it,” he promises, my heart soaring at their pain, but before I get a chance to truly comprehend the true weight of the coins we own, reality slips from between my fingers and everything fades away.