1 Chapter 1

Salem - 1693

Bellatrix Phips had never been a patient person when it came to attending anything that she deemed an unnecessary waste of time. Like church. Or parties. Or fairs for that matter. In fact, in her opinion, the only time well spent was being buried in a book for hours on end or locked away in her Hut with all her spells and potions. She didn't just love and appreciate the solitude, but inside of her, she could practically feel her magic powers grow. Like a poisonous weed it had buried its roots deep in her heart and she loved the feeling of it sinking its claws into her soul and drink of the dark energy she was feeding it.

However, right this instant, Bellatrix had to stifle yet another yawn, as not to draw any attention to herself. Ever since the Trials of Salem – that's what the people were calling them anyway – had begun she'd been dragged away from her studies more than 10 times already.

And that was just this week!

But she had to go since not going would make people wonder and people wondering or growing suspicious in a time like this could land you a trip to the gallows. And so, she had to suffer in silence and attend the damned hearing…

"Is this trial ever going to end?" she muttered under her breath. In her mid-20s and unmarried she already had a lot of unwanted attention. Most people assumed there had to be something wrong with her since her world didn't revolve around getting married and then instantly knocked up with an average of 15 babies. And since she came from a somewhat rich family, there was no lack of men knocking down her door.

They just didn't hold her interest…

She was tired of men trying to tell her what to do and how to act. If she was to marry, she swore it would be from--- well, not love, because she didn't believe in that. But a mutually beneficial arrangement could be made she supposed. If she got to be left alone with her studies, the man of her choice could use her good name and statue to climb any social wall he desired. As long as he didn't expect her to fulfill any marital obligations it was fine by her.

However, this was also the reason why she was unwed at the age of 24.

Men apparently didn't understand why she'd refuse to let them have at her body any time they so desired. If they wanted a body to fuck, they could simply pay a whore. Or perhaps that was the reason for men to marry? A wife to them was nothing more than a free hooker that was ever at their disposal?

She had to wonder…

"Be patient," her stepmother warned, sounding nervous. "Or it'll be your neck at the end of a rope."

Her mother, Julietta Phips, worried too much for Bellatrix's taste. Perhaps it was because Julietta in truth was her stepmother – since her own mother had passed away a year prior – and was almost 5 years her junior. Her father, William Phips, had just made governor of this province and needed a wife. So, without much ado, he'd chosen and marry the socially acceptable Julietta and already, she was 3 months pregnant.

Which was yet another reason why Bellatrix didn't want to get married. She wasn't ready to give up her studies and become a parent. And while she could afford a governess, a child would still demand an incessant amount of her time. Time and effort she could be using, to become the most powerful witch in her Coven.

Just like her real mother…

Her eyes darted over the assembly. Most everybody avoided her gaze, which wasn't that surprising considering that it was her father that led the trials. Most of the people who were accused of witchcraft would sooner or later face the great William Phips. Which meant that whoever avoided her gaze was afraid of her and the few who didn't, hoped to kiss up to her. As if she could provide them sanctuary.

What a lovely way to make friends.

Her eyes paused at the small scrawny figure sitting next to the podium and scribbling wildly in his little notebook. It was Todd Picklow. An aspiring journalist who was working for the independent newspaper The Province Chronicle. If you asked him, he'd tell you he was working on an article about "The Witch Trials", spreading the truth about the witches who roamed among us.

Snort!

He was a little rat working with both of the governors, but the last she heard he was in league with the man – William Stoughton – who was currently raving about what he thought witchcraft was. Both of them fools! They wouldn't know a spell from a potion if it kicked them in the ass!

"Did you read what the Chronicle had to say yesterday?" Beatrix grinned, leaning into her mother again, who did her best to ignore her stepdaughter. "The way Picklow raves about these trials, history will think mass hysteria made us all mindless, bloodthirsty mongrels that killed every virgin and babe in town."

Bellatrix snickered, unable to help herself. Not that she cared if that turned out to be true. With all the fear and doom in the air, she'd never felt more powerful. And her Coven thrived.

Chaos.

Bloodlust.

Fear.

They were powerful ways to empower any witch that dealt in the dark arts. Black magic some called it, but it was all the same to her. It fueled the thirst in her, the obsidian side of her that didn't care whether the woman and her child being accused of practicing the dark arts were found guilty of not. All the better if they did. The despair and desolation that had fallen over this city had practically taken on a life of its own. It was a fountain for her and all of her kind. A source of eternal, ever-growing power…

The darkness in her, Bellatrix knew, made her not quite human. Not anymore anyway. Which was why, when the fake witches were found guilty and later hanged, she didn't feel an ounce of pity for them. Instead, she breathed it in, chanting softly, as if she was praying for the deceased. But in truth she called on the angry, unjustly trailed souls. She offered them to take residency in her black blood and once they did, she felt…

Powerful!