Page 148

The memory faded and Amalia was a year older, walking between the legs of coven Witches as she held a toy. She was curious, trying to reach for things on the benches, but they were preparing for a ritual, and her father wouldn’t let her.

Someone else picked her up and settled her on their hip to show her what she couldn’t see. They chattered happily to her while showing her natural things as well as blood and pieces.

She wanted to pick up a wingless fairy, thinking it was a doll.

Young Amalia hadn’t been frightened or horrified by what she was seeing since she was used to what was happening.

That memory faded also.

She was five in this new memory. She had met the stranger now before her, but she could see the coven was shaken up that he was there. They were fawning because they were afraid, and Amalia sensed this from them, sensed they were worried.

He took her into his arms and walked around to the benches. She pulled his long hair that was the same as it was now, but he was wearing it loose. He was being kind to her because she was a young witchling, and he desired all Witches to prosper, to obtain power and strength.

He gave her the body of a headless rat, and she took it, squeezing it as she pointed to the head of a fairy – once again, she thought it was a doll. He swung it by its long hair in front of her eyes, and at her giggle, he put it back down to grab another part of a creature.

“You are very curious child. One day, you will make a superb Witch.”

She continued to see him in her memories. He wasn’t always there, but he often went around to covens to meet them. She could hear the people around her talking about him in hushed whispers, saying he was searching for strong Witches who would be of use to him.

She knew she’d only aged another year in her next memory. She had recently blown out six candles.

She was sitting on a table while the coven of Witches stood around her while uttering quietly. They were concerned as well as excited as energy seemed to bustle between them.

Their eyes continued to return to her.

She was frowning in confusion until her father came to her with a comforting smile.

“You are going to be special Amalia,”he said to her while bouncing her on his hip.“You are a part of a prophecy that may change our future. You are going to birth something new to the world, and you will live a long time with that child.”She giggled, not understanding what he meant, but happy to see her father’s smiling face.“On the night of a black moon, you will steal the heart of a Dragon. We believe that you are to eat it, and it will extend your life, in the same way many of our kind seek.”Then he trailed his finger over the curve of her nose before bopping it.“Most do not get the chance to, but it has been told that you are destined to take one. You will also birth its child and raise it.”

Even with all the memories regained of her mother, she had never been with the coven. She wasn’t a part of it, but she was upset when her father took her to them when he visited them. All her memories of her mother were in a house that was not her cottage, but a place far away near the sea.

She could remember her mother arguing with her father about the prophecy. She was concerned because, although Amalia was curious, she’d never harmed anything.

She had always been sweet.

Her mother was a white wielder, and Amalia often saw them fighting about his use of dark magic. He’d only recently begun to do this and hadn’t been corrupted when she met him. Something turned him, and he became addicted to the power he knew he could obtain.

Amalia’s mother hadn’t wanted the same for her.

Her next memory was with the stranger, and he was speaking to her. He’d heard of the prophecy and had swiftly returned.

While he held her, he spoke to her father.

“She will become mine. If what is foretold is to happen, then she will become powerful, and I seek a woman such as this.”Then he turned his head to her with a smile.“You, little child, will one day become bonded to me and become my wife.”

The stranger remained by her side for years, telling her she would marry him, bond with him. The young and impressionable Amalia became infatuated with the person who told her he would one day love her and become her husband when she was older.

The memories began to flash quicker.

Her father had hidden this stranger’s plans from her mother because he didn’t approve, and he knew she wouldn’t either. It was Amalia who told her when she was nine because she had been excited about the man she loved.

They argued in front of her, and her mother gave him an ultimatum – to let them run away by themselves or to change and come with them.

Since he didn’t want to lose the woman and daughter he cherished, her father came with them and refused to use magic ever again except to take Amalia’s memories and change them.

It was the only time her mother approved of his use of dark magic.

He changed them to the cottage she thought she had lived in all her life and made her think he was nothing but a human soldier who would often leave. But he didn’t leave to war, he left to make sure they were safe.