Page 97 of Her Dark Promise

The scent of musk and cigar smoke cradled me and I swung my arms around his neck, squeezing my eyes shut, continuing to cry hysterically. I remembered how he slowly stroked my back, waiting for me to stop crying as he brought me back inside. Ever since that moment, I hated storms because no matter how docile the rain seemed to be, the thunder would rear its ugly head. Reminding me of my place in the world.

Before Emilia, I didn’t care about destroying the castle when the storms rolled in. I would ravage parts of it, not caring if it finally did me a favor and caved in, crushing me underneath. Emilia’s arrival changed everything because with her around, I could no longer be reckless.

Instead, I would go into the library and close myself off until the storm passed, even if it lasted days. I knew it wasn’t the smartest choice to stay in a room with wall-to-wall windows, but it was where I felt the safest. The one place I was still able to enter that held precious memories without feeling fully debilitated by them.

I wasted no time barricading myself in the library. I shut the door and took a few deep breaths trying to ground myself into the here and now. Deep breath in. One. Two. Three. Deep breath out. One. Two. Three. It no longer held the same musky scent that encompassed my father or the sound of little Annabelle learning to read with Mother.

I shook my head of the memory, not wanting to relive it, and pulled out the blanket Annabelle always used while she read. And as I went to head toward the corner that I always sat in, shaking until the storm passed, I heard a piercing laugh ring throughout the room.

No. It couldn’t be.

I looked up to see another memory playing itself out in front of me.

The fireplace was ablaze as if it had been lit for hours, and a woman said, “Belle! Where do you think you are going?”

My mother was tickling Belle as she screamed and laughed at the top of her lungs, squirming around.

This couldn’t be happening. Not again. Not so soon. I didn’t want to watch. Didn’t want to see them all. It hurt too much.

“Mother! Stop!” Though I knew she never wanted it to stop. She loved Mother with all of her heart.

They were so alike. Gentle. Kind. Good.

I loved Mother, as well, but I was more like my father and would do anything to be just like him. I was standing over by the bookshelf nearest Father’s desk, trying to glimpse theparchment. I was determined to help him in any way that I could.

I could see myself jump and go right back to pretending to read when Father walked in. He headed over to my little sister, who had escaped Mother’s arms and ran into his. He picked her up and kissed the top of her head, then walked over to Mother. He bent down to capture her lips in a long and vomit-inducing kiss.

I looked over to see myself pretending to throw up at their blatant display of affection to make Belle laugh.

We were all giggling when Mother asked Father, “How was the hunt? Did you catch anything?

Father gave Belle back to her before approaching me and kissing the top of my head. He replied in a huff once he sat down. ,

“Nothing to boast about. I am hoping for something better tomorrow.”

I ran up to him and leaned over the desk to watch him work. I loved it. He looked so serious when going over documents, and the veins in his forehead always twitched.

He laughed heartily and glanced at me. “Yes, my sweet girl?”

“I want to go hunting with you! I can be of some help.”

He cut me off before I could finish my pre-written speech.

“You are just nine years old; besides that, you are a girl. Girls are not meant to hunt.”

He saw that I was clearly disappointed so he sighed and said, “I love you so much that if anything were to happen to you, I don’t know what I would do with myself.”

Not wanting to cause him any further stress, I decided to placate him and replied, “Of course, Father.”

I kissed his cheek and returned to pretending to read the same page I had been reading for over an hour, watching him work.

I knew I was crying from how wet my face felt, but I couldn’t stop. His voice was so deep—commanding, yet so soft when he wished.

“I am so sorry that I did this to you.”

I knelt down next to his chair to watch the scene, taking it all in the younger me had sat down in the chair next to the desk, both of which were beside one of the large, stained windows. A huge grumble interrupted the painful memory by shaking the room.I squeezed my eyes shut, gasping, knowing what I just did. I opened my eyes again, and my fears were recognized; they were gone. As my chest constricted tightly, I grabbed the blanket and leaned against a sidewall that wasn’t in view of one of the windows.

I curled into a ball and wrapped my hands around my legs, my head resting on my bent knees, wishing for the storm to pass quickly. I wasn’t sure how long I stayed like that until I felt someone grab my shoulder. I reached for their hand and threw them against the wall where I was seated, knocking the air out of their lungs. I straddled them, lifted my hand, made a shadow blade, and held it to their throat. All in a matter of seconds.

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