The Usurper's Throne

37

I sat in a daze as we continued driving. Everyone nervously clutched their weapons. I couldn't sleep. I didn't deserve it. I had killed Seth. I had killed Berry's baby. I should have been shot instead. My frazzled mind had focused on that one image.

It felt like a couple minutes, but it must have been several hours later. We pulled into a lot, and I continued to stare straight ahead to the headrest in front of me. I had killed Seth.

My door suddenly slid open.

"Naomi?" Elijah asked worriedly and swore under his breath. "You should be asleep."

I ignored him.

"Alpha, we can take care of her," Daniel said, "if you need us to."

"Thank you, Daniel. But let me talk with Naomi. Could you have the medics meet us here? Quickly?"

Daniel sprinted off.

"Naomi?" Elijah asked. I continued to stare. "Naomi, please. Could you not sleep?"

I blinked a few times. My brain felt like it was trudging through sludge. I had one image burned into my skull. Lifeless skin. A reddish black hole.

"Naomi?"

"I killed him" I said.

"You what?" Elijah asked.

"I killed Seth. The baby."

"What? You were with us the entire time."

I looked at Elijah, wracked with grief and shame. "It's because I left."

Elijah sighed. "Naomi, that wasn't your fault. Let's talk about this later, okay? You need to rest," he said seriously, stroking the hair on the back of my head down tenderly. "Naomi? Look at me."

I turned to meet his eyes.

"None of this is your fault. Sleep. We will handle this. You need to sleep." His eyes focused on mine intently, willing me to understand.

I nodded as medics arrived. One of them slid me out of the seat and onto the bed they had rolled out to me. My heart burned with hate. I hated that they were here, caring for me, while Seth was dead and freezing.

I stared blankly as they rolled me to the medical ward. I blinked and suddenly we were there. It looked familiar. "I'm fine," I said as one of them began pulling up my shirt. My shirt was red.

Gold. Then, they all left me. They left me and my thoughts. Seth was dead. And it was all my fault.

I waited patiently for an hour. Then, I tossed the covers over me and stood up. My legs nearly gave out, but I grit my teeth and accepted the pain in my ribs as justice. Determination flooded my veins. The air was ice cold. I embraced it as penance. I deserved this. I deserved to die.

I took a deep breath, acutely aware that I didn't deserve it. I had to do all I could to save Berry and Eric. Damien was going to kill them. I would turn myself in. I would save them.

I stepped to the door and gently opened it. The hall was dark. The hallway was swimming in front of me, but I ignored it. I stepped into the dark hallway. I continued and took the elevator to the sixth floor—the armory.

It was unoccupied. I was grateful, single-mindedly focused. It felt like I could only see out of one eye. I grabbed the first pistol I saw and loaded it like Daniel had taught me. I walked back to the elevator and made my way down to the first floor.

"Where do you think you are going?" a voice called.

I turned to see Elijah standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. In the castle, he looked younger, like he was living in his father's shadow. The past days had hardened him. He did not live in the shadows anymore—he ruled them.