Zoe's only wish is to be able to run barefoot through grass, but she knows it'll never happen. Ever since she was born, she's been unable to touch anything living without it instantly dying. It's a curse she would do anything to get rid of, but that...
I guessed I deserved all of it. I had let myself slip, let myself believe that maybe I could be able to do what normal people did. But even if I could do that, I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve happiness and love because I was a murderer. Why the Goddess had decided to give me a mate even was beyond me. Perhaps she had thought it was a good punishment for me. Give me a mate so I would know the love and then the pain of knowing I could never have it. It was a great punishment, it hurt more than anything else. The only flaw was that Felix was ending up hurting as well.
I was chained to a chair when I regained consciousness. It was clear the room was in a basement. I could feel the coldness into my bones. There were a lot of objects along the sides. However, it was too dark, with only burning candles as light, for me to see what the objects were, but I didn't need to see to know. I was certain they were different things meant to restrain and torture.
"So you decided to finally wake up," an icy voice said, and my eyes snapped to look straight in front of me.
Harry Jackson sat in an armchair like a king, and my Felix... I felt the tears sting as I looked at Felix leaning against the wall behind his father. His arms were crossed over his chest and his eyes looked resolutely down at the floor.
"Felix," I whispered. "I'm sorr..."
Harry Jackson burst out into cold laughter. "You haven't given up on that act yet. Although I'm sure you have an amazing performance prepared, I don't want to waste my time watching your pathetic lies, witch."
He said the word witch as if it was a curse word and spat on the floor. I didn't listen to him though, but kept looking at Felix.
"Just listen to me!" I pleaded.
"We already know what your stupid plan was. Use my son to get close to me. Probably try to get information on other witch hunters and then kill us all."
"No! Felix! I would never hurt..."
Harry Jackson laughed again. It echoed in the cold basement, made me want to shrink back and away, though that was impossible due to the bindings. "You're not even making your lies believable. You are a witch and all witches are evil. And you, you are the worst of them all. A filthy, rotten creature."
Had it been any other situation, Harry Jackson's words would have hurt me. But not today, because the fact that Felix still refused to meet my eyes made me certain that I had lost him and nothing else mattered. I would never get to see him smile again. Never share a meal again. We wouldn't have the beautiful future that we had painted together.
"Kill me then," I said and took my eyes off Felix to look at Harry Jackson. My voice was calm and steady. Empty and dejected. "Just kill me."
"First, I want some information from you." He tapped on the chair's armrests and his eyes drilled into me.
"About what?"
"What spell did you cast on yourself to gain that power of yours? Are there more witches that can kill with a single touch? Tell me, how do you do it?"
He licked his lips, and I waited for his cold laugh to come again, but it didn't.
"You think... You actually truly think that I made myself this way and that it's something to be happy about?"
As soon as I had said it out loud and heard for myself how ridiculous it sounded, I burst out laughing. It was far from a happy laugh, though. It was manic and mixed with tears. Felix had said the same in the park, but I had thought it had only been spoken from anger and hurt, not from actual belief. Or maybe I hadn't thought so, but hoped because it was too painful to know how little he thought of me. But he truly believed it, just like his father, and that broke me.
"Tell me, witch! Tell me what spell you used!" Harry Jackson screamed over my laughter.
"None! It's a curse. A fucking curse! And I would do anything to lift it!" I shouted back.
"Liar!"
Jackson got out of his armchair quickly and walked over to me. I had time to notice that he wore a glove before his hand fell on my cheek.
"Tell me the truth!" he yelled.
"I did."
He hit me again.
"You can torture me as much as you want," I said with a trace of the manic laughter lingering. "Ask the same question over and over. That won't change the truth. So try your hardest and be ready to be disappointed."
He had raised his hand to hit me one more time, but for some reason he paused and a twisted smile spread over his face.
"Is that so?" he hissed before turning and getting something from behind me. When he came back in front of me, he held a thorn crown.
All color, if there was any, disappeared from my face. He had taken my words to heart. He did try his hardest.
He noticed my reaction, and the smile got wider.
"You know what this is, don't you?" he said and held the crown so I could see it clearer. "It is the Son's crown. God sent his son to walk the Earth and help mankind from being corrupted by your kind. But you didn't like that, so you decided to kill him in the most painful way you knew, and this crown was a part of it. People now might portray it as the thorns being the painful part of this crown. But we both know that's not true."
There was so much I wanted to say. I wanted to argue, I wanted to tell him the true story of the crown, I wanted to beg for mercy. But I didn't have time for anything as he dropped the crown on my head.
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