Chosen

Chapter Forty-Five: Scarlett

I was in a dark room, dark and damp, like the dungeon that my mom had used to leave me in when I was punished badly.

In fact, it was the dungeon. My heart started racing at this realization. Had I been kidnapped when I was sleeping?

I couldn't see; it was dark. But I could hear a voice: My mother's voice. I could hear the smile on her voice.

"I know you can see me. Well, hear me. I know it's you in there. Dearest daughter."

"Why wouldn't I be able to?" I asked, but the voice wasn't mine.

And then I realized.

It was as if I was possessing Rosalie in my sleep by accident. I didn't think that was possible, but...

The Queen could have made a connection between your minds so she would know what you were thinking.

So it wasn't my fault that I was there. I wasn't really there. But Rosalie was.

"Dumb girl," she said. "I thought you ought to have figured it out by now."

"Oh," was all I said.

"When you were born," the Queen said, her voice distant, "your eyes were black. Pitch black, black as ink. It wasn't a surprise; your father's eyes were black when he was young. But yours were blacker, darker. I could sense a heavy evil on you. I took you to the friend of a close friend of mine, and he told me your father was not, in fact, your father. The king, that is, was not your father. And I was horrified. It was impossible."

Yeah, right, I thought. She had slept with others than the King plenty.

"He said," the Queen continued, "that your blood father was actually a demon. You had demonic blood, of the evil kind. The demon must have posed as your father at some point. And I had hoped, of course, that you would become a warlock with the less evil soul. But it became clear as you grew that you would not have the magic, or the immortality; the only thing you had inherited from your father was the demons and the evil. It became clear what I had to do: I had to kill you. It would be better For everyone. But I couldn't bring myself to do it to my own daughter. I had come so close so many times, to rid the world of an evil, to do you and everyone you loved before, and would have loved in the future, a favor. But I couldn't."

"You couldn't," I said, "or you didn't want to, because you wanted to use me for some experiment? Sounds like something you would do. But then I ran away with a boy and a girl and got myself Chosen and bitten and Turned. Now I'm much too dangerous."

But I had my doubts. What she said, it was so believable.

"Yes, you got yourself Chosen and bitten and Turned. That was my plan. I didn't expect you to make friends so easily."

"Family. Julian's like family," I said. "And Athena-" I stopped. "Family," I repeated.

"And they made you stronger. Too strong. I should have killed you when I had the chance. Now look at whay you've done. You've got people attached to you, people who didn't know what you were before. They are disgusted by you. Julian took back his ring, and your darling Athena won't kiss you. They're disgusted by you," she repeated.

"What do you want?" I whispered.

"You know what you have to do," the Queen said. "You need to end your life. Nobody else can do it anymore. To protect everyone you love, you must."

End your life.

It was a simple enough task, but I couldn't bring myself to want to...

Except I had to. I had to. For Athena, for Julian.

"Until you do so," the Queen said, "Rosalie will be harmed. A deep cut every day. If a month passed without your death, she will be poisoned and suffer, slowly dying. Make your choice. Choose."

Choose. Choose. Choose.

A scream ripped from my throat. Loud and high. I wouldn't let them suffer.

I could hear Julian's voice, as if he was trying to comfort me. Then Athena, and her touch, and her warmth...

And then I woke up. I was staring right into her golden eyes. They were worried, but they were also scared. Of me, I knew.

And I kissed her, our last kiss, before I would go. And she froze, stiffened, and then pulled away and ran out of the room. She was scared of me, disgusted by me, o knew it. And I could only blame myself.

I shooed Julian out of the room. Once he was gone, and I was sure they weren't coming back, I lifted my mattress off of the bed frame. It was a small hunting dagger, one that I had learned to keep under my bed in case we were attacked in the middle of the night. The smooth blade was strangely black, the black handle a leathery texture.

I debated which way would be the best, which spot I could cut or pierce to make it quick and painless.

My hand jerked, almost throwing the knife across the room. And then I did what I needed to do, plunging the knife in.