The Chosen One(s) | Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Chapter 66 - Temptation

*A/N - Writing Anakin's inner monologue in his descent to the darkness has been so hard for me.*

Anakin's POV:

The fire eats everything.

It spits and hisses, racing toward me like a beast unleashed, and I can't move. My body is heavy, pinned, my skin blistering as flames crawl across me. The heat is unbearable, and every breath sears my lungs. I try to push up, but my arms collapse beneath me. I can't stand. I can't fight.

Through the wall of smoke, I see her.

Y/N.

Her hair is wild, her eyes wide with terror as she clutches her swollen belly. She's reaching for me, her lips forming my name. Anakin. Her voice cracks, pleading, terrified, begging for me to save her—save them. Our children.

But he's there.

The one Y/N has been having nightmares about. The figure. Tall. Cloaked in black. A mask, gleaming and soulless. He moves like a shadow solidified, and his hand clamps around her throat. She kicks, thrashes, her voice breaking into a strangled gasp.

"Please—Anakin—save us!"

Her fingers claw at the invisible grip, at the air itself. Her face reddens, then pales. The twins. She's fighting not just for herself, but for them—for the lives inside her. And I... I can't reach her.

I force myself to crawl, dragging my scorched body through fire, screaming. My skin splits, my muscles scream. The pain is unbearable, but I don't stop. I claw the ground until my fingernails tear, until blood smears across molten stone. The fire lashes at me, devouring me alive, and still—I'm too slow.

The figure doesn't speak. He only breathes, mechanical, monstrous. Each exhale rattles in the air, hollow and cold, drowning out the roar of the flames. That sound—it feels endless, as though it will haunt me forever.

Y/N's screams weaken. Her eyes lock on mine. The terror there slices through me like a blade. She's begging, still begging—though no sound comes now, only the shape of the words: Save us.

And then her body falls limp. Her head tilts forward. Her hands, once so desperate, fall against her stomach... motionless.

The fire surges higher. My screams tear from me, raw, broken. But no one hears.

The figure turns his masked face toward me.

Slowly. Deliberately.

And even though the fire blinds me, I feel his gaze. My skin crawls beneath it. The breath hisses louder. Closer. Closer—

The fire won't let me go. Even awake, I feel it—still burning me, still dragging me down. I can hear her voice, begging, choking, crying for me to save her. My chest feels as though it's caving in. I can't breathe.

I jolt upright, gasping, clutching at my throat as if I'm the one being strangled. My hands are shaking so violently I can barely steady them. My skin is clammy, soaked with sweat, but it feels scorched all the same.

"Anakin?"

Her voice—soft, drowsy—pulls me back, if only slightly. Y/N stirs beside me, her hand brushing across the sheets toward me. She's here. She's alive. I turn, and the sight of her—the curve of her belly, her tired but gentle eyes—tears at me with unbearable force.

I collapse against her, burying my face in her hair, clutching her as if she might vanish the moment I loosen my grip. "I saw you—I saw him—" My words break apart, strangled by panic. "You were screaming for me, Y/N. He had you—he was killing you—and I couldn't stop it. I was burning alive, and I couldn't reach you."