Page 92 of Savage Torment

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” I reply, heat creeping up my neck as my pulse thrums.

How the hell does he know that?

Did someone tell him?

The wolves wouldn’t, I don’t think? Blaze? Surely not. And I certainly haven’t. The only thing I’ve done is… write it in my diary, but that wasn’t… that was the other day, in my new diary that is no longer connected to this guy's file.

Unless…

“I think we both know what I’m talking about Miss Beauchamp, and I say this from a genuine place of concern: mixing with these factions is not safe. Not for you, not for them, and not for innocent bystanders.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

My hands are fisted in my lap, my spine achingly straight.

His lips part, but before he says another word, the telephone on his desk rings, cutting his attention from me for a split second before he glances at me once again. “That will be all for today, Miss Beauchamp. Please, heed my warning.” He waves his hand dismissively, and as much as I want to demand more from him, I need to breathe, but I know that’s impossible in here.

Launching to my feet, I rush from the room, startling when I find Bryony, Minnie, Tatum, Lincoln, Asher, and Wylder waiting for me. My gaze scans from one to the other, but the uncertainty, the wavering trust, it makes it impossible for me to say a word as I slip through all of them and race down the hall.

I hear them holler my name, but I don’t stop. Ican’tstop.

My sneakers pound along the ground as I make it outside, turning toward the dorms without a second thought. I don’t stop, not once, not even to look back over my shoulder. My pace only slows when I battle the stairs leading up to my room,but before I can slam my bedroom door shut behind me, a foot lodges in the doorway, stopping my advances.

I gape with wide eyes, panic getting the better of me, but as I step back from the door, I realize it’s Tatum on the other side.

My heart races as he nudges the door open wider, just enough to slip through before he kicks it shut behind him.

“Polaris, what’s going on?”

I shake my head, the concern on his face doing nothing to calm the disarray inside of me.

“You need to leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere. We promised to keep you safe, even if you don’t like it,” he states, dropping his backpack by the door before lifting his hands in surrender.

I shake my head at him, disbelief coursing through my veins, and the anger, the rage that festers inside of me all focuses on this one matter. Spinning away from him, I dart to my nightstand, finding exactly what I’m looking for before I eliminate the distance between us, slamming the object against his chest.

“Did you trick me with this?” I hiss, my face heating, and he blinks at me, confused.

“Sorry?”

“Did. You. Trick. Me. With. This?” I bite, and he gives me a pointed look while remaining calm.

“You’re going to have to explain a little more than that, Polaris,” he states, and I shake my head with irritation as I jab my finger against the journal between us.

“You told me this was safe.”

He frowns, searching my eyes for a moment longer before reluctantly looking at the item between us. Prying it from his chest, he runs his fingers over the spine, his brows furrowing before he peers back at me.

“Polaris, this isn’t the diary I gave you,” he murmurs, and my spine stiffens.

“Yes it is.”

“No, it’s not,” he insists, pressing his lips into a firm line as he turns the spine to me. “It’s similar, sure, but the engraving on my journals is always in silver, this is gold.”

His words spiral in my mind as I take the journal from his grasp. “This isn’t the diary you gave me?” I repeat, needing the extra clarification, and he shakes his head.

“No. What’s going on, Polaris?”

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