Fated

Chapter 5

I was pretty sure Ash and Calyx were arguing over who would deal with the bodies. They sat at the bar, drinking some type of alcohol. Huh; I guess vampires could drink alcohol.

I must’ve been in shock. Ash had told me I could go to my room, yet I still couldn’t move. My body remained frozen on the couch, my eyes locked on the crumpled, lifeless bodies on the floor. I was still clutching the black dress, gripping it so tightly my knuckles had turned white.

Those poor women had no idea what end awaited them tonight. Mere minutes ago, they had been young, beautiful, and full of life. Now, they were nothing but hollow shells.

I couldn’t help but imagine the families they had left behind, the mothers who would be forever heartbroken, never knowing what had become of their daughters. My breath faltered, seeing my own mother’s face flash in my mind, her eyes filled with love and warmth.

Panic gripped me—choked me—as I gasped through a mouth refusing to open.

I forced every ounce of strength into getting up, but my knees gave out as I rose, sending my body crashing onto the cold, hard floor. Now, I was face to face with the dark-haired woman lying just inches away, her skin ghostly pale, her eyes glazed over, staring into nothingness. There wasn’t a trace of life left in her. I had never seen a dead body before today. Now, I had seen three. How many more would there be before it was all over?

The scrape of a stool against the floor was followed by the thud of footsteps approaching from behind, stopping directly above my head.

“Areya, go to your room.”

My body wasn’t moving, so it wasn’t a command.

“I think you broke her, man,” Calyx murmured.

Ash sighed, repeating, “Areya, go to your room.”

This time, I knew it was a command when my body moved, struggling to stand only to fall again—still, I had to obey. I clawed at the floor, struggling to crawl, to drag myself.

But each attempt ended in me crashing down, my body too heavy, my will too shattered.

Then, strong arms wrapped around me, lifting me off the ground as if I weighed nothing.

I didn’t need to look; I knew who held me by the way my body settled. Bastard. Ash cradled me against his chest as he walked to the bedroom and as much as I wanted to fight against him, I was too weak. I just hung there, limp as he carried me like some broken thing. He laid me on the bed with what I could have sworn was gentleness, before leaving the room and shutting the door behind him. Then, I lay there in silence, alone in the hotel room—alone in the world, unable to comprehend why this was happening to me, why the universe had decided to take everything away. It wasn’t fair.

My hands found their way to my hair, gripping and pulling, my mouth seeking to scream but staying shut, trapping the sounds inside. The only thing I wanted was my mom. The grief was relentless, pounding through my torso like a drumbeat, unyielding, unbearable.

I tried to get up, aiming for the connected bathroom. I wouldn’t make it, but tried anyway.

My legs gave out after two shaky steps, my body crumpling again. So, instead of walking, I dragged myself, heaving my body across the cold marble floor until I reached the bathroom.

I sat just outside the shower, my fingers fumbling for the handle, turning the water on, and cranking it up as hot as it would go. Steam filled the room, swirling as I struggled out of the stiff jail uniform, leaving me naked, save for those stupid black gloves. I couldn’t remove them, but tried anyway. Of course, my hands wouldn’t let me.

Crawling to the bathtub, I collapsed under the scalding water, its heat searing my skin. I welcomed the pain—it was the only thing I could feel aside from the gaping wound in my chest.

I curled up on my side, the water pounding down, burning my flesh.

And still, I just lay there, letting it scorch me, hoping the physical pain would drown out the invisible agonies threatening to swallow me whole.

Time lost meaning, making me unsure how long I stayed, devoid of caring. I didn’t want to move, didn’t want to feel anything anymore. All I wanted was for the pain to stop.

Eventually, a muffled sob escaped my throat, followed by another, until my whole body shook from the force of it. I fractured completely, limbs convulsing, my heart shattered as I lay naked and broken at the bottom of a shower.

There was nothing to live for—no hope, no future, no will to move forward. How would I get through this nightmare? Finally, I did the only thing I could think of.

Mom used to say a hot shower could fix anything. Clinging to that memory, I forced myself into a sitting position and grabbed the hotel soap and a washcloth, proceeding to scrub every inch of my body, every crack and crevice until my skin was red and raw, desperate to wash away the blood, the vomit, the horror of everything. I shampooed my hair, watching the water swirl red as it washed down the drain. Finally, with shaking hands, I turned off the shower.

Next, I stood slowly, bracing myself against the walls until certain I could stand on my own.

As I stepped out of the tub, my hand grabbed the pristine white robe hanging on the back of the door, wrapping it around myself. My mind was set on one thing, the need to find something.

Something that could end this pain for good.

Frantic, I rummaged through the vanity drawers, then through cabinets, desperate to find anything sharp enough to cut through the skin on my wrists. Failing to find anything in the bathroom, the bedroom came next, tearing through every drawer, every surface.

Nothing.

Panic and frustration surged through my veins like fire. My breath came in ragged gasps as I yanked the tie from the robe and wrapped it around my neck, pulling tight.

My eyes darted wildly around the room, searching for something, anything strong enough to hold. It could all be over in moments. Just a few steps and the pain would finally stop.

But then, my mother’s face flashed before my eyes, vivid and full of life, and I could almost hear her speak. I imagined her finding me like this, knowing what I’d been about to do.

The thought struck me like a blow to the stomach, a deep ache spreading. That look of heartbreak on her face, the pain she would feel, even now, even in death.

I crumpled to the floor, the tie slipping from my hands.

But Mom was gone, and I was still here, on my way to another world to be slaughtered by a king because I had magic. And I was stuck wearing these ridiculous, soggy black gloves.

A hollow snort escaped me, then a soft mumbled laugh bubbled up. The laugh grew louder, more frantic, until I was laughing so hard, it seemed I had lost my mind.

When unable to laugh anymore, I cried, cried until there wasn’t anything left inside of me, no more tears, no more sound, just an empty shell of the girl I used to be.

Exhausted and spent at last, I crawled across the room and pulled myself onto the bed, sliding under the blankets, pulling them around me as if they could shield me from this heinous reality.

My mother had known something about all of this. She had kept it from me. That betrayal burned as fiercely as the loss itself, cutting deeper than any wound.

Could I believe the things Calyx had told me tonight? How could I not, after seeing those things with my own eyes? If what he had said was true, my twenty-first birthday would change everything, transforming me into something dangerous, something they feared.

It became clear what I needed to do.

No matter what it took, I’d survive, making it long enough to receive my powers—and then, I would use them to slaughter Ash and Calyx.