Page 111 of Dark Flame
“Seriously?” The concept of that much power is intriguing, considering all I can do right about now is dry my own hair.
“Yes. Memorize it. I need you to know it deep down, even if by tonight you’ll have no recollection of learning it.”
Gasps come from the coven, but another memory replaces that one. This one grim and masked with magick.
One that depicts the numerous flashes of Arthur wiping every black magick enchantment and curse they forced me to learn.
Another where they cast a curse over me, and I leave the room with the fire inside me much duller than when I walked in.
Another one where I snuck around the house one night and overheard a conversation that wasn’t meant for me:
“She’s growing too powerful, Arthur. Her Sinclair blood is too strong. It’s getting harder to bind her magic. One day, we might not be able to taper it.”
“Maybe we let it then.”
“If we allow that, it’d undo all the work we’ve been doing to make her Dark.”
“Unless she’s meant to master both.”
“You have a plan; I can tell by your expression. What is it?”
What are they talking about? I lean closer to the door to hear better, but the floorboard creaks. I freeze, hoping they didn’t catch it.
Steps pound towards me, and I’m not fast enough when running back to my room.
“Make it stop!”
The memories flash through more recent years, pausing on the night of the fire that took everything from me.
The force of my magick flings my limp body out the door, and it lands in the middle of my backyard as the house continues burning.
Mom…Dad…my mind won’t stay focused.
But right as my eyes slide shut, a darkness envelops me. Shadows hover above my head, prodding my chest but unable to enter. They don’t seem bothered by it, though, remaining around me like a depraved hug.
Then there are memories of Alec in my room, of him kidnapping me. Of the cells, the party, the bedroom, and the forest. Every intimate moment between us laid out for the coven, all going towards the recent event of getting my magick back.
This time,allof it. Finding the box, my emotions, and the surge of fire that consumed me, burned me from the inside, mytruepowers returning, no longer restricted by Arthur’s deception. At the very end of the most recent vision, the shadows I believed for so long were all in my head, fucking with me out of sick amusement by the Goddess, slip inside, mingling with my elemental power.
More gasps.
Alec is fighting to get to me.
The slithery feeling. The voice urging me to do things. The way it hurt Alec.
The flashes of anger I’ve had since?—
The murmurs break. Hands release one another. A blast knocks a few members back.
The scraping on my brain ends, and while my body demands rest, I force my head up, seeking Morgan’s guidance while my lungs work overtime, trying to stabilize.
Morgan’s staring at me open-mouthed, her arms still out by her side from where the witches on either side of her released her hands.
Murmurs travel around the coven, few words louder than everything: “Black magick. They made her Dark.”
Anguish fills Morgan’s eyes, and she drops to her knees, mirroring my position. “That’s impossible…” she breathes, so low I’m surprised I hear her. “Black magick requires killing. They?—”
I killed my parents that night. I tried toprotect, but I insteaddestroyed.
