BloodHound (ON HOLD)

prologue

Harlow Blake spent her whole life being told not to expect a happily ever after when she met her soulmate.

Everybody has a soulmate, platonic, romantic, or familial.  Everyone believes a different story about how these connections formed, but one thing everyone agrees on, is that the bond is the most important thing in your life.  Good or bad.

Soul-marks are different for everyone.  They can be physical changes that happen once soulmates meet, words or tattoos on your skin, or red strings of fate tied around your finger.  These are the most common, but there are a small number of people who have different kinds.  No one knows if they are marks that haven't been seen in such a long time that we can't remember or they are brand new, but like most things that are different, there are groups of people who think that they're unnatural.

Most of these people are witches in the supernatural world.  There are some humans who have heard the disagreements coming from the witches who end up feeling the same, but most people never have to deal with this hatred and disgust.

Harlow is not like most people.

Her mark didn't show up as soon as she was born.  That wasn't very odd, some marks only show once the younger of the pair is born.  Her parents assumed that she was just the older of the two.  For the first five years of her life,  Harlow experienced all the love and care a child should,  but then on her sixth birthday the Blake family changed.

~~~

She was hurt.

That was the first thing Harlow noticed when she woke up.  It wasn't the small ache that she felt while she was growing either and it wasn't all over,  it was like being stabbed over and over again in her back.  All she could manage was a small whimper when the pain caused her to fidget.  She didn't know how long she laid there waiting for the time her mother usually came to wake her up before it actually happened.

Eden Blake walked past her daughter's room to wake up her first born son, like she normally did before she woke up Harlow.  She stopped when she heard her whimpering and went into Harlow's room to make sure that she wasn't hurt.  When Eden turned on the lights the first thing that she saw was the blood, and yelled for her husband as she rushed towards the bed, as she got to the side of the bed and flipped her daughter over she was horrified.

When he heard his wife yell for him, Lincoln Blake felt scared in a way he hasn't ever before.  When he got to his wife and daughter he saw the same thing his wife had, and was similarly disgusted.

"Mommy, daddy?" Harlow was confused, why weren't her parents helping her?  Why were they looking at her like that?  The look on their faces scared her, she had never seen them look at her like that ever.

"You will never call me your mother again!".  Eden finally snapped out, never wanting to parent any child like Harlow, an abomination.

"Daddy?"

Lincoln just stared at her with a cold gaze, none of the love he felt for her yesterday available to him, hatred filling him the longer he looked at the abomination in his house.

"She can't stay in this room."  Eden said tightly, still disgusted.

Lincoln finally spoke, "She can go to the attic, out of the way, but still an acceptable  room in our guests minds."

"We would still need to see her when she goes to the bathroom and we take her food."  That was still too much in Eden's mind, she never wanted to have to see the girl again.

"The attic is big enough that we can add a bathroom and we can carve runes into matching tables for the attic and the kitchen.  We can send food and other 'necessities' to her that way."

Eden still didn't like that, but it was the best option, so she reluctantly gave a sharp nod and then left the room.

"What's happening?" Harlow finally was able to get out, but still in shock, hoping to get an answer.

"Inside this house we lay no claim to you, we hold no care for you, don't want to see you unless the situation demands it."

"But-"

Lincoln cut her off, like she wasn't even talking, before continuing.

"You are to pack everything of yours in the suitcases and backpacks in this room.  Anything not packed away by tomorrow morning will be thrown out."

"Dad-" She didn't finish.

"I am not your father anymore.  Once you have packed everything you are to take it to the attic, that is where you will stay from now on."

With that he left the room.  There was nothing more to say.

Harlow laid in her bed and cried, until she remembered what caused their reaction in the first place.  She slowly got up, sore now that the pain was over, and walked to her bathroom.  When she looked in the mirror she saw two small wings.  They were a dark red and they were beautiful, but the feathers were crooked and both her and her wings were covered in blood, so she decided to pack after she was clean.

As she was in the shower she started cleaning her wings, instinctively knowing how, and realized that they were her
soul-mark.  Harlow immediately smiled, already in love with them and whoever they connected her to.  So happy, she never even considered resenting them, didn't ever blame them for the way her life changed.

After she finished cleaning herself, she got out of the shower and noticed something.  Her wings weren't just dark red, the tips were a pure, snow white.  Once she knew that, the same instincts that let her groom them properly, let her just know that her soulmate's wings had to be pure white with dark blood red tips.

When she was dressed and back to her room, as she got out her suitcases and any bags she could pack stuff in, Harlow decided that she wouldn't wallow in self pity.  At six years old she came to the realization that her parents were never going to love her again.  Before she started crying again she took deep breaths and made the decision that she would just have to love herself.

Having made up her mind, Harlow finished packing, and brought everything up to the attic.  As she sat on the bed in her new room she looked out the window just in time to watch the sun set.  All alone for the first time on her birthday.  Which would end up normal every year, with only herself celebrating.

The Blake Family, The Blake Coven, Would Try Their Best To Forget The Blake Daughter