Page 41 of Heart of a Witch
“That was different.” His eyes glossed over. “Don’t you see? There are dark forces at work all the time, pulling us in with temptation. I have even fallen victim from time to time—we all have—so I do not judge you for being enticed by dramair and power, but it is not what you were placed in this world to do. You were always the good son, the one I could count on. Don’t let temptation steal you away.”
“It’s not temptation!” I stood, scraping the chair backward.
The muscle in his jaw feathered as he stood slowly. “Have you been in contact with any unruly women recently? Perhaps someone spelled you to—”
“I am not under a spell, or anything like that,” I spat through gritted teeth. I hated his fucking superstitions. Everything had an answer. “I am still a man of Zerheus.”
He shook his head and took a step back, knocking into his chair. “You have been led astray. I don’t want to do this, son. I truly don’t, but it’s the only way.”
My eyebrows shot upward. “Do what?”
“I’m only looking out for you.”
“What are you going to do?”
He sighed, muttering something under his breath. “I will have my men find out who you’ve been seeing while I’ve been gone. If it’s not a woman doing this to you, then it must be your brother. No matter, they will be punished. You don’t see it now, but I’m doing what’s best for you and this family. Someone is tainting your mind, and I will get to the bottom io it.”
I growled under my breath. “Don’t you dare.” I dug my nails into my palms. “I am not under the influence of anything dark. I just don’t want to be a hunter. This is insane.”
He looked down, shaking his head and pressing his lips together. The corners of his eyes crinkled when he climbed his gaze back to mine. “You’re not acting like yourself.”
I inhaled deeply and held my breath for a few seconds before I exhaled. My rage wasn’t going to convince him otherwise. I had to calm down, before I did or said something I would regret. His hands were slightly trembling, but he hid them behind his back when he saw me looking.
Corbin would get the shit for this. Or Amber, or maybe even the new girl to town, Victoria. It wouldn’t be the first time someone else got the punishment for my actions. “Please, Father, I am not under any spell. I promise you.”
“We have nothing more to talk about tonight.”
I pressed my fingers against my forehead. I couldn’t go against him and the church. They were stronger than even the monarchy in this kingdom. “I’ll train to become a hunter, but I want to continue running the club too.”
He hesitated, bringing his hands together into a clasp. After thirty seconds of silence, he nodded slowly. “I still feel I should look into anyone who may have been in contact with you recently.”
“Please.” I hated the sound of the words as they left my mouth in a plea. “No one has done anything. You’re right; it was a moment of temptation. I want to follow in your footsteps. I also worry about our dramair.”
“We have enough wealth left by your grandfather, and priests do not pay taxes on income. You need not worry about such material things. We are the richest household in Redforest.”
He wasn’t wrong, but we wouldn’t stay that way with the amount he spent on the community and events. “The club can be a part-time project,” I said, with a lump in my throat.
“As long as it doesn’t distract you from your true calling, I will allow it. You have managers who can do most of the work.”
“Yes,” I said sourly but kept my tone light. “I must go attend to some matters, but I will see you at the sermon this evening.”
“Son,” he said as I turned to walk out. “If you ever feel your soul darkening, you must always come to me.”
I closed my eyes. “I will.” I walked out, and as soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I hurried down the corridor, ignoring a question from one of the maids.
Once I reached my room, I let my anger spill over. “Fuck!” I shouted, punching the wall next to the mirror. The glass shuddered and fell to the ground, shattering seven years of bad luck across the carpet. Unclenching my fist, I saw the red around my knuckles and hissed through my teeth. He wouldn’t listen to reason. Everything was fucking witchcraft. I was tired of it, but I couldn’t fight it without him thinking I was under a spell or some stupid shit. Someone else would get hurt, a repeat of what had happened four years ago with our nanny, Sandra. She was the only woman to ever come close to being like a mother to us.
She’d protected us, nurtured us, and read us stories in the evenings. Her affinity with healing ointments was incredible too, and she’d often healed our father of his wounds when he returned from executions and the crowd had gotten a little wild, or if a witch had fought back. I still didn’t know if she was okay. I’d sent out feelers through a guy I trusted and found out she was living far north, away from anyone. At least she wasn’t dead. I couldn’t risk sending word to her. I worried it would be the last notch in her noose if I did.
A memory floated back easily. Perhaps it was the alcohol or rage, but my mind was an open book for a moment. It was late evening when father had finished whipping me, then moved on to Corbin. I’d watched, helplessly, for years as he beat the demons from us, mostly my brother. I wore the scars on my back with fear, hiding them always.
I’d had enough.
It was the first and last time I’d raised a fist to my father. I hit him, four, maybe five times until he was on the ground, covering his face with shaking fingers. Corbin picked up the whip, but I stopped him before he could do any real damage. I thought it was the end of it. I had turned seventeen a week before that night, and I wasn’t going to go into adulthood fearing him anymore.
Sandra came to us as always, healing ointment at the ready. She treated Corbin’s marks first; they were always worse than mine. She treated the bruises on my hands and then the cuts on my back. She sang Corbin to sleep, and I decided to sleep in his room on the floor.
The next morning, I’d come out to faint shouting coming from the lower levels of the mansion. When we’d rushed down to see the commotion, I felt like I was going to die. Sandra was shackled with the same ones they used to restrain witches. They had the ointment bottles she’d used on us in a bag, as evidence.
