Page 114 of Her Dark Promise

No one loves you.

“Emilia said she did. Even Callum… Maybe…” I gave myself a single moment to hope before shutting my heart down once more.

No one loves you.

“No one loves me.” I parroted Circe.

Everyone hates you.

“Everyone hates me.”

You hurt everyone who loves you.

“I hurt everyone who loves me.”

I fell asleep to her repeating over and over again.

Chapter twenty-one

The clouds above were dark as the wind whipped around me, I shielded my eyes from the onslaught of the rain beating down. I wiped a drop from my cheek and brought it up to my face, it wasn’t rain. It was blood.

I looked down and found that I was dressed in a white nightgown, the picture of innocence as I looked out and found a battle waging before my eyes. Faceless men and women ran around in front of the castle, fighting each other, and murdering each other. I tried to move, but it was as if my feet were rooted to the stone steps. My body paralyzed with fear.

“It is all your fault. How could you do this to us?”

I looked up and saw my father standing in front of me, a look of pure contempt written clearly across his features. “Father! Please!”

“Look! Look around at the carnage that you have left in your wake!” His voice boomed over the roar of the battle.

I screamed as a head rolled to my feet… Mother was staring right up at me.

No no no no! I fell backward and crawled away. This can’t be happening. Tears ran down my face as I looked up to find everyone on the battlefield standing and staring at me, all of their eyes the milky white color of death. They were horrified of me, of the monster I had become.

I looked to my right and found Annabelle’s body slumped against a stone wall. I rushed to her, and fell to my knees, screaming at the top of my lungs. Her eyes were open–lifeless. This can’t be real. I hugged her to me, rocking back and forth. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real.”

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This didn’t happen!

Father tore me away from my tormented thoughts when he yelled, “Enough!”

He grabbed my shoulder and shook me vigorously. I tried to push him away, clinging to Annabelle, when my hands went through her body. I looked around for her, but my surroundings had changed.

We were in the tower. The windows were knocked out, the wind whipped my face, the chill biting into my skin.

I ignored the cold as I pleaded with Father, begging him to listen to me. He gripped me so hard that his hands were leaving bruises on my skin.

He suddenly stopped, hands still on me, his face slowly contorted into something inhuman. Animal. It was utterly terrifying. I tried hard to pull myself away from him, but his grip was too strong, and overpowering.

He brought his face so close to mine that our noses were touching, I could feel his staunch breath, as he said with deadly accuracy, “You should have died, witch. Not them.”

And he pushed me out of the tower window.

I sat straight up in bed, screaming at the top of my lungs. Sweat dripped off of every inch of my body, the sheets sticking to my skin, the pain in my stomach secondary to the nightmare.

“Your grace… Your grace!” I was still screaming and thrashing about when I heard, “Calathea!”

I stilled.

My name.

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