Page 4 of Spark of Madness

I know he is…I do.

I know he cares about me.

Yet the more I serve, the more everything around me feels so wrong. I’m not doing a good enough job of hiding that, and I really need to. I need to bury my internal dissension so deep that no one can dig it up.

But how?

I nod, forcing a small smile. “I know. How can I serve?”

“No!” a sharp cry pierces the night, collectively jerking our attention toward the sound.

I twist to keep my eyes on her as a girl with wild eyes shoves a man near the campfire and runs toward us, racing for the forest just beyond. The entire village hesitates from their collective madness at the brilliant sound of a word no servant should ever speak, especially not while serving the Impulse.

I recognize the girl with the wild mane of long ashen hair—Delle Carter. She just turned sixteen last week, and this is the first time she’s serving. My heart races as I see the fear on her face—I recognize it as the same fear I had when I had turned sixteen over four years ago.

Her eyes catch hold of mine as she approaches, her skirt floating behind her and shadowing the firelight at her back as she runs. The world around me slows, as if I’m trapped in a nightmare with her, trying to outrun a threat that’s moving faster. But reality snaps back into focus as she blurs past us, chased by three men in quick stride.

“Who is that?” Theo asks, and when I turn my eyes to look up at him, I find his are fixed on the girl beyond my back being chased into the forest.

I clear my throat. “Delle. Tonight is her first—”

He holds up a hand to silence me, his gaze fixed far beyond me—and I already know he’s going after her.

It’s fine.

He can have whoever he wants.

But it’s not fine—Ineed him to claim me to keep me safe fromthe others.

“I’m going after her,” he confirms, but I hardly hear the words because he’s already running.

I look over my shoulder to see him dart off into the darkness of the forest, his strides quickly carrying him to match the speed of the other men chasing the poor girl before they all disappear into the night.

I hold my breath as they vanish in silence, waiting for the inevitable sound of it…and it comes, her scream piercing through the night once she’s caught.

I turn forward and bow my head as I release my breath with an unsteady huff, my fingers curling into the lace covering my thighs. I should stand. I should go and find one to serve. But I can hear my pulse thrumming, pumping behind my ears, adrenaline running like rivers through my veins.

Run.

I want to run, too.

I want to disappear into the darkness.

I push to my feet and straighten my skirt, then press my modest breasts back into the corset and adjust it.

I raise my foot to take a step forward, intending to walk back to the campfire and present myself for another’s use. And that’s when another piercing scream, more horror-striking than Delle’s, rips across the night.

My wide eyes snap to the burning fire, and I see it shift.

Feral flames streak away from the containment of the bonfire, rushing across the camp, but it’s not a blaze set along the forest floor or burning through the trees. It’s a servant, her skirt bathed in fire that threatens to consume her whole. She runs, flames chasing her, burning up the fabric, racing to greet her skin and burn her flesh.

Hyatt Price stands behind her, holding a torch of his own making, his twisted smile bright with delight for what he’s done to her. It’s not until her beautiful, raven-black tresses catch flame that I realize it’s Ivy Jane screaming and running, begging for help.

But she’ll get none.

She’ll go down in literal flames to serve the Impulse.

And she’ll be honored for her sacrifice.

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