Chapter 10 Colgrave
COLGRAVE
Fists rained against my bedroom door. Amalee methodically rocked in the corner as our mother sat on the floor in front of us.
With a racing heart, I searched for Micah and found him hiding under the bed with his eyelids pinched closed.
It would only be a matter of time before the beast living inside my father either became too tired to continue or forced its way into the room and found its next victim.
“It’s going to be okay,” my mother said, extending her arm for Micah to hold. “He’ll go to bed soon.” The absence of lines on her face forced me to realize that my mind was in the midst of sifting through an old memory. The recurring dream found me most during times of stress.
“Get out here, Athela!” my father screamed as he transitioned from fist to boot against the wood.
Another dinner had quickly gone wrong, leaving those in the entire castle running for cover from his weaponized hands. Our lives revolved around his mood, and though my mother mitigated the situation as best she could, it was never enough to keep him from laying into one of us.
“Close your eyes, it’ll be over soon,” she reassured us. “You’re protected. Nobody will hurt you. I will keep you safe.” The familiar words were a broken promise she repeated every few days.
My eyes went wide as the wood started to bow and splinter from the beating it was taking.
At fifteen, I was not only outmatched in strength, but my father’s eroding magic was superior to the voiding magic I held.
I had tried to take my mother’s place many times, but she remained his primary target in the end.
Amalee squeezed her eyes shut as her soft voice mirrored the words of our mother. But I couldn’t look away from the impending threat no matter how much I tried. I wanted to see the havoc, especially since he’d later inevitably act as if he weren’t responsible for the injuries he caused.
“Let me go talk to him.” I shifted to my feet. But my mother pulled me back down and narrowed her amber eyes at me in warning. If I could spare the members of my family from even one beating, I’d take them all myself.
“This is your last fucking chance! Get out here and face me, or the children will.” His voice hit an octave I’d rarely heard, and by the look on my mother’s face, she noted it as well.
“Which one will it be this time? Perhaps Amalee? Or shall I go for the orphan? Or maybe the head of your precious son!”
Micah hadn’t gone unscathed from Thalion’s hands. My parents promised his dying mother that he'd be treated as one of their own, and unfortunately for him, my father held true to the agreement.
My mother squeezed my brother’s hand as tears streaked his cheeks. “Everything’s fine. I’m going to speak with him—everything will be okay. You will be okay.”
“No.” My voice cracked as desperation rippled through me.
Placing a kiss on top of Amalee’s head, she repeated the mantra with her, “You’re protected. Nobody will hurt you. I will keep you safe.”
“You can’t go out there.” My brows knitted. “Don’t leave us.”
She sucked in a breath and forced her mouth into a tight smile, tears welling in the troughs of her eyes. “You’ll be fine, Col. Just close and lock the door behind me.”
“No!” My voice was frantic as panic set in. “He’s going to hurt you—let me go instead!”
“Time’s running out!” my father shouted and began the countdown we had all learned to expect. “Ten! Nine!”
“Let me do something,” I pleaded. “I’m stronger since I’ve been training, I can help. I will be the one to keep you safe.”
She’d forbidden me from stepping in even on the worst days, and she downright refused to let Amalee or me use our magic for fear of him retaliating. I’d obeyed, but hated her for it.
“Stay right where you are, okay? You’re doing a great job, honey.” My mother tucked her face under the edge of the bed to get close to Micah.
“Eight!” my father’s voice echoed over the granite stone. “Seven!”
“Okay, Col, shut and lock the door.” My mother grimaced. “Say it back—shut and lock.”
I drew in a shaky breath and swallowed. “Shut and lock.”
“No matter what happens, what’s your job?”
“Six!” my father’s voice boomed. “Five! Your ass better be at the door or you’re as good as dead! Four!”
“To keep Amalee and Micah safe.” I pushed back tears.
“And what else? I need you to tell me again what you’re going to do—I need you to say it again.”
“Three!” my father’s voice threatened even louder.
Tears ran down my cheeks, and I quickly wiped them away with trembling fingers. Helplessness tightened my chest. “Shut and lock the door. I’ll keep them safe.”
“Good job, Son.” My mother placed a hand on each of my cheeks and kissed my forehead.
“Two!” My father’s counting always slowed as the deadline loomed.
It was a last-ditch effort he made to force my mother into compliance. On the rare occasion she didn’t acquiesce to his terms, we were punished heavily for the choice. On one particular occasion, he forced down the door, and the beating my mother took kept her bedridden for days.
She stood, lifted her chin, and extended a hand to me. Amalee’s meager chant played on repeat behind us. I accepted our fate and trailed my mother to the only barrier keeping the predator at bay.
“That’s it!” He booted the door again, splintering the wood from the bottom to top. “If only you’d use your head for once in your fucking life.”
“I’m coming,” my mother called out through a quivering voice, though she tried to keep her tone light. She turned and looked up at me. I’d gained a foot on her the prior year. She was smaller, yet she faced a man taller than me head-on. “Your job is to keep your sister and brother safe.”
With a long inhale and slow exhale, she settled in and reached for the doorknob. The moment she twisted the lock, the barrier flung inward, knocking her back a step.
“Good girl,” my father’s words drawled before he lunged toward her.
I went to move between them, but my father threw out a hand. The force that met my face was more than I’d ever felt. The blow swept me off my feet, sent me tumbling to the ground, and left my ears ringing with pain.
With a fistful of my mother’s hair, he pulled her towards him and dragged her into the corridor. I scrambled to my feet as he yanked her from the doorway she clung to. Fear flashed across her face for only a moment, before she stilled her expression and stopped resisting.
“Your job!” she shouted in my direction.
My eyes darted to the still-open door. Amalee’s small voice rambled in the room while my mother’s grunted cries echoed in the hall.
Whichever choice I made, someone would be left vulnerable.
But I’d promised my mother. Shut. Lock. Keep them safe.
I’d made a promise, and I would keep my word even though I knew she’d suffer for it.
Hours passed as I paced the room while my sister and Micah remained fast asleep and curled in the corner.
The silence was deafening; I preferred the chaos of my father’s rage over not knowing the condition of my mother.
When I was sure he hadn’t waited on the other side of the door, I quietly made my way into the hall.
Heel to toe, I walked to my parents’ room, pressing the sword into the side of my leg to avoid any unnecessary clattering.
Putting my ear against their bedroom door, I found the space quiet. Hoping he’d fallen asleep, I slowly turned the knob, being sure to take my time as the mechanics disengaged.
With the curtains partially drawn, my eyes scanned the shadows. He was asleep on the bed, but my mother wasn’t at his side. Silently reminding myself to be cautious, I crept across the room. If he woke, his wrath would be worse than whatever my mother had met.
Rounding the bed, a shadowy figure lay crumpled on the ground between the bed and the wall. In my panic, I dashed to her side, blade scraping against the stone floor as I dropped to a knee. I shot my head up to find my father still passed out and snoring.
My mother’s body was curled on its side, long brown hair spilling over her face.
Turning her onto her back, a barely warm, thick, sticky substance coated my palm; the amount of blood oozing from her head was alarming.
Too frequently, she’d had swollen eyes, cuts across her lips, and scabbed fingers from her nails being ripped from their beds.
We’d all been his victim at one point or another, but the injuries were never so severe.
My father’s rage had gone past the point of dismissing his behavior on a foul mood or the stress of running the kingdom.
His next tantrum could cost my mother her life, and if I were left to choose one of my parents, I would choose her every single time.
It was at that moment I knew one of us wouldn’t be leaving.
There was a brief window for me to act, and though I hated leaving my mother’s unmoving body on the floor, there was no time to tend to her wounds. Unleashing my magic, I felt the tingling sensation move through me as my eyes shifted to onyx and I narrowed in on my father.
The air was thick as magic buzzed, voiding everyone in its wake. There was a real possibility he’d kill me, but I’d willingly die for the slim chance to keep him from harming another member of my family ever again.
The hilt of my sword found its way into my hand without an ounce of thought, and as I lifted the blade high above my father’s chest, his eyes sprang open.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Were the last words he ever muttered just before I plunged the sword through him and into the mattress below.
Blood wept from his body in a spray I’d only read about. He gasped for breath as the garnet fluid spewed from his mouth, and he gripped the blade.
“I would,” I growled as I removed my sword and watched him writhe in pain among the shadowy darkness of the room.
Minutes passed until his breath sputtered to a stop. When his final breath fell, I flew into a sprint to find the only person I knew would help without question.
I hurried down several corridors and back into my room, where I found my sleeping brother.
I carefully woke him, being sure not to disrupt Amalee from her sleep.
He’d need to heal my mother first, but could focus whatever remaining magic he had left on closing the gaping wound in my father’s chest. The only proof of the true cause of death would vanish before anyone suspected otherwise.