Chosen


It was his self righteous laughter that was her breaking point.

The anger filled her entire being with such ferocity that it almost burned, physically. The rage was a force of it’s own, flooding her chest and running it’s course down her arms to fill her fingertips. She clenched her fists and flew forward in one movement, covering the distance between herself and her target with such swiftness that when her fingers closed around the man’s throat it finally an elicited the reaction she had craved.

A smile curled the corners of her lips, and her hold tightened so that he started to struggle for air. Her strength swelled and he was rendered powerless. Her body pinning his against the wall allowed her to feel every labored breath and it filled her belly with a warmth that was quite unlike any sensation that had come before it. It marked the certainty of her ability and indeed intention to end his life here in a matter of moments, and he knew it. He was afraid now, something that had been lacking before and it was this fear that consumed all her senses. It pleased her.

“Do what you will, Rheyne, but it will not alter a thing. You were not chosen.”

His last words.

“If I have learned nothing else, it is that one does not need to be chosen to achieve what is rightfully theirs, what they were born to do, what they deserve. Lesser than you have been chosen before and after this moment. I will succeed where you have already failed.”

The sharp crack of his neck snapping followed by the thud of his lifeless body hitting the floor was the last sound the man would ever make and Rheyne Varik looked down on him, folding her arms across her chest, eyes narrowed.

“You just chose your own death, brother.”

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