Page 10 of Blood Coven

“What you’re suggesting is forbidden,” her mother replied.

“No one will dare overthrow me.”

“But Rose—”

What does this have to do with me? Red wondered as she closed the door, shutting out the evening air that welcomed itself inside.

“You are not too old to bear me more children.” He stopped abruptly. “What was that?”

Only moments later, her father was in sight, barrelling down the hallway toward her. Red braced herself as fear took hold.

He grabbed her wrist, bringing it above her head. Her shoulder threatened to come out of the socket. The new hurt took away from the old; knees and cheeks. Red’s eyes widened in terror as she remembered the salve on her cheek.

“You’re an hour late for dinner,” he growled, his breath stinking of ale. “Your mother toiled over it, and you repay her by arriving late and reeking of smoke and…what is this?” His finger smeared the substance on her cheek, and he wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“Who gave this to you?” he demanded.

Red couldn’t answer; Grandmother would never have given her a salve.

It didn’t take him long to speculate what Red had done. She felt the color drain from her cut-up cheeks. Wincing instinctively, she tugged her arm against his grasp but could not pull free. She wanted to scream, to tell him he was a coward for blaming her for being late when it was his fault. He had attacked her mother which halted her baking and forced Red to leave late. This circle repeated itself time and time again in her life, and she was tired of it.

It will never stop.

There were hundreds of things she wanted to scream. Over the years, they built up and curdled, filling Red with pure, sour hatred for her father. Words she dreamed of saying but never could. No words ever came from her mouth; she was muted by fear. I wish you were dead.

“What were you doing out there, Rose?” His voice went dark, a voice Red was all too familiar with.

She caught a glimpse of her mother peering out from the kitchen, a cloth in her shaking hands. Betrayal clouded Red’s senses; not even her mother would step in to defend her from him. Red had always been on her own. But maybe she didn’t have to be. Thoughts of the girls in the forest entered her mind again, and she could think of only one thing: freedom.

“Answer me!” her father shouted. Spit sprayed from his mouth and landed on Red’s shoulder.

“I knelt in front of the fire on a stick,” Red stated as firmly as she could manage, but her voice still quivered. It was not a lie. Still, she knew she would get in trouble simply for speaking of his mother’s abuse. She would be passing the blame to someone who would never be at fault in his mind.

Red had no excuse for the salve. That and the smoky smell in her hair were enough. The littlest mistake was enough. No matter what I do, it always ends this way.

He yanked her hard, dragging her through the hallways to her room. She cast a forlorn glance at her mother as she passed her, begging for help. Her mother looked down at her hands, silent.

Her father threw her into her room, then slammed and locked the door.

Red was shaken, but she smiled, for she was alone. Yes, she would go hungry, but she would not suffer anymore…at least, until the morning. Being left alone was the most merciful punishment. Her fear slowly dissipated, replaced with rage. She stared hard at the door, her hands balling into fists. A part of her wished her father would return so she could tell him what she had been doing out in those woods.

What she would do again as soon as she got the chance to sneak out.

Red crawled into bed and pulled her hair from its messy confines atop her head. She sighed in relief as it fell in tumbles over her shoulders, wavy from being pinned up all day. She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, thinking about the others in the woods. Were they really doing witchcraft? Biting her lip, Red gazed to the window as though she could see them out there, their little fire flickering. Alina was there earlier, watching me as though she wanted me to join her.

It was the first time any of those girls ever approached Red in the woods. Sorin said they were expecting her, that she was important to them.

Hopping out of bed, she padded to the window, looking for a sign. Hoping to see Alina there again, calling her over, telling her she had a place with them. But she saw nothing but a sea of darkness.

An hour later, the door unlocked. Her mother entered, a candle in her grasp. The light made shadows dance around the walls as she walked toward the bed and sat at the foot of it.

Red winced when her mother put her hand on her knee. She knew it was supposed to be comforting, but the throbbing ache lingered in her joints.

From under her pinafore, her mother revealed a small heel of bread.

Red swiftly devoured it. The sharp edges of her hunger ebbed. She wiped the crumbs from her chin and bed linens.

“Why, Mama?” Red asked, her childish nature coming forth as it always did when she was alone with her.

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