When Blaire woke, she found herself staring into the eyes of a black snake. The two stared at each other on her bed, Blaire finding herself incapable of being surprised or terrified by snakes anymore. However…something wasn't right.

Instead of feeling stressed, she felt oddly refreshed, as if a great burden had been lifted off of her.

What’s happened? What’s changed?

“The first time's always the most painful.”

Blaire sat suddenly, forcing the black snake to slide off her body. No longer in her dress, she was now in a thin, plum shade nightgown. She didn’t remember changing. She didn’t remember going to bed. She remembered going into her room, being so adamant that Coal was Cole before he attacked her.

She reached up and felt for two piercings in her throat.

Oh god. They’re there. Which means…it really happened.

Coal actually bit her. Very cruelly, if there’s any non-cruel way to bite someone. Still, there was no warning, there was no permission given. And what was with that…that feeling? The feeling of satisfaction at the end? Where she liked it?

Because now that she had recovered her senses, Blaire didn’t like it. She didn’t like what happened at all.

Cole wouldn’t have done that. No matter what demon he turned into, he would never have hurt me.

All the dangerous situations Cole had rescued Blaire from in the past meant something. He was an idiot that cared more about her safety than his own. That heartless creature she spoke to last night wasn’t Cole.

But then what was the scar on his face?

Blaire shook her head.

You know what? Never mind.

She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care what his connections were to Cole, and she wasn’t willing to make a deal with Death to find out.

She was going to get out of that place. Now.

Blaire swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, determined and…famished. Famished to the degree of almost fainting.

Ignore it, Blaire ordered as her eyes searched desperately around the room for a weapon. She made it halfway across the room towards the candlesticks when there was a pounding against the door.

“Mistress?” Pima called.

The door opened without Blaire’s permission and in stepped Pima as well as Hannah, Death’s wife.

Hannah looked every inch a queen in a crimson gown and ebony hair curled over her right shoulder. She filled the room with an aura of calmness that Blaire was doing her best to ignore.

Hannah’s caramel colored eyes landed to the candlesticks in Blaire’s direction.

“Good morning,” Hannah greeted, ignoring Blaire’s wild appearance.

“…Morning,” Blaire bitterly replied.

“It looks like you’re now an official Chosen,” Hannah commented.

Blaire paled, reached up, and touched her neck. “Because of the bite? That’s all it takes?”

“That’s all it takes.”

“Bullshit. Ah, sorry.” 

Wait, why am I apologizing? 

Blaire regathered her courage and said, “I didn’t give any consent. I don’t want to be Death’s-or anyone’s-Chosen. And you shouldn’t want that, either.”

“Why?”

“Because you, you know, you’re Death’s wife. Doesn’t that bother you?”

Hannah smiled warmly. Unlike her husband’s, it was natural and alluring.

“A Chosen is not a lover. They are a treasure. And a King’s Chosen is a very important treasure. I admit at dinner Rei may have made being a Chosen sound…unappealing…but it is in no way as distasteful as being a servant or slave. You are his partner.”

“He eats me,” Blaire reminded flatly.

“Soon you’ll start to enjoy it. Want it, even.”

Blaire grimaced. “You’re making me sick.”

“It’s because you are hungry.”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to do a Brady Family Brunch with you and the others again.”

“This time it’ll be just you and Death,” Hannah assured.

“That’s worse.” Blaire was just assaulted; the last thing she wanted to see was Death.

“Well,” Hannah’s fingers glided across the foot of the bed, “you can try to slay your way through this house with a candlestick, or you can realize the situation you are in and try to make the most of it.”

Blaire turned her head away, unwilling to show Hannah the feelings she couldn't hide.

“You really don’t have a choice.” Hannah motioned for Pima to open the closet doors. “Now, what should you wear?”