Page 110 of Dark Flame

“Stop…please.”

The pain doesn’t stop.

Alec yells again.

Then there are memories of Violet and Arthur. First at coven events, and then speaking to me. Asking me simple things about myself. Favourite foods. Activities I enjoy.

It’s the last memory that makes my insides rattle the most as the image appears in front of us all.

I’m sleeping when I’m woken by a bang downstairs, a yell, and then a, “Get Harlow!” I think it’s Daddy yelling at Mommy.

I push the blanket off my body and rub my eyes before sitting up, staring at the door, and wondering if I should get out of bed.

I’m in the middle of deciding when there’s more yelling, more banging. I slide out of bed and rush towards my closet, my hand on the knob when my door flings open. I turn, expecting Mommy or even Daddy, but it’s not them. It’s a woman with dark hair. I’ve seen her at coven events. She has a pretty name, named after a flower. Violet. She’s nice.

But she shouldn’t be in my house right now. “What are you doing here? Where’s Mommy?”

My question goes unanswered as a flash of green fills the room.

The memory fades, quickly replaced by another one. The same one my consciousness dredged up in Alec’s cells, only this time, it’s the full scene.

Alec. He’s still yelling.

My head is still being scraped by a knife.

And no one’s listening to me as I beg them to end this.

“Stop, stop, stop…” My voice fades, dry from the pointless begging.

A cool slither wraps my hands where they’re clenching around the grass.Make them stop. You can do it.

How?I ask whatever the voice is as an image continues playing in front of me.

Cuffs weigh my arms down, and no matter how much I yell, scream, and pull on them, I can’t get free. The skin around the cuffs stings, sliced and bleeding, from the amount I’ve yanked on them.

“Mommy! Daddy!” I yell and yell, but no one comes. For hours, I’m crying. I’m hungry, tired, and cold.

But no one helps me.

Mommy always told me she’d be there for me. So where is she?

It feels like days are passing, where every minute is more pointless hope. I wish I was older and had access to my magick, but Mommy says I’m too young. That my powers will come in alongside something called puberty, but she hasn’t told me what that fully means.

Finally, the door opens, and the first thing I see is the moon. It’s full. Next, a figure blocks the beautiful glow and my connection to the Goddess, whom Mommy said to always pray to if I need anything because She cares for all her children.

“Plans changed. You’ll be coming home with us for a while, Harlow.”

That vision fades as well, leaving a question to float through the coven: What plans?

More memories surface. Memories of my years being raised by Violet and Arthur, referring to them as Mom and Dad. Memories in which I’d wake up asking about the woman in my dreams and the mountains we used to live near. Later in the day, I’d forget everything all over.

Memories that were taken from me, resulting in me losing hours of my life. Over and over.

“See this?” Mom points to a grimoire that I’ve been using to help master my new magick. She’s pointing to an incantation, but it’s one I don’t recognize. Not that I know many spells.

“What is it?”

“A special kind of power that’s very strong, called black magick. You can be like the Goddess herself with it.”