Updated 02/26/16

Chapter Three

"Do you miss her?" Christian asks, gently kissing my forehead. I look in the mirror, admiring how I look with a crown on top of my head.

"I don't want to talk about Rose," I say, pushing him away. A knock sounds on the door.

"Queen Vasilisa," says a man with a very, very familiar Russian accent.

I gasp, coming out of Lissa's head. How did I slip? I thought my wall was perfect. But that voice . . . I've missed it—much more than I would like to admit to myself. I sit up in bed, disappointed with yet another sleep. Every night for the past month, I've hoped that Adrian would visit my dreams, but I know its too much to ask for. I shouldn't expect him to do that, but deep down inside, for some reason I believed that he would. Adrian was so sweet to me. Why did I never realize just how perfect he was? I threw him away, just like I threw everyone else away.

I analyze my life, coming to the conclusion that I've completely screwed it up. I miss high school, no matter how crazy it was at times, they were still the best years of my life. I miss training with Dimitri. I miss our hidden looks, and our forbidden passion. I want it all back. I feel the tears threatening to fall, but I promised myself I would never cry for him again, and so I fought against them, with everything I had.

I'm not weak, I say to myself, repeating what Adrian had told me.

I know that the Belikova's have noticed my discomfort talking about him. They've come to realize that the topic based on him is meant to be avoided, and I really appreciate their respect. I know it must be tough. Finding out an entire year later that their family member has been revived from a strigoi, and turned back into a dhampir. I just can't get over the fact that Dimitri never called—not once. You would think he would have enough compassion to let his family know he's come back from the dead. But, I guess not.

"Rose, you coming?" I hear Viktoria shot from downstairs. I quickly throw on some clothes, running down the stairs while combing through my hair.

"Yeah, ready!" Viktoria lets out a loud laugh, shaking her head at me.

We were going shopping. Yeah, that's right. Shopping. Exactly what I want to do during my free time. But, since Viktoria insists on me going to some party with her tomorrow night, and I do need to find myself a dress—also some new clothes, since my wardrobe kind of sucks at the moment.

Once we arrive, a sudden wave of excitement fills me.

"Let's do this," I say to Viktoria, clasping onto her hand and practically dragging her inside.

A few hours later, I find myself with a few bags, full of clothes. I've even found the perfect dress for tonight, and maybe another perfect dress for some other night.

"That was actually fun," I tell Viktoria, giving her a cheeky smile.

"I knew it would be." She smiles back, placing her bags in the trunk of her car. We drove home, nothing but the sound of dim music playing in the background. It was nice, feeling comfortable in silence around Viktoria. There are some people where it's complete awkward silence. The kind of silence where you feel like you're squirming on the inside, trying to think of any topic in order to get rid of the agitating hush, hush.

"So, ahh . . .," Viktoria starts, breaking the awful silence that was slowly eating me up. "I know it's not a topic you like to talk about, but what happened between you and Dimitri?"

I froze, begging for that awkward silence to return. I'd rather spend an entire day walking around naked and clueless, begging for money or food or whatever else, than to talk about Dimitri. But I realize, I will have to see him soon, unless I can figure out how to leave the Belikova's again without completely tearing their hearts out for the second time.

"You know what I'd rather do?" I say. She gives me a side glance. "I'd rather prank people."

"Prank? What kind of pranks?"

"Just things you do on April fools." I shrug, reapplying some lip gloss. Viktoria graciously agrees, and we drive to the store, picking up a couple of supplies. As we head home, we discuss all of the pranks we plan on pulling. Nothing to severe, just a couple somethings to give ourselves a few laughs.

Once we arrived home, I quickly replaced the sugar container with salt, I glued Sonya's shoes to the floor. I replaced all of Karolina's makeup, switching out her beautiful new shades, and swapped it with rusty old greys and browns. I could hardly contain my laughter when I finished, sneaking back into my bedroom. But I also couldn't help but feel a little bit lame at the same time.

I lean against the door, realizing that Viktoria never told me what she planned on doing. I shrug, I'll figure it out soon enough. I hear my phone beep, which is on the bedside table next to my bed. Trying to lean away from the door, I realize I couldn't. What the hell? I tug a little bit harder, only to realize my clothes were glued, very intensely might I add, on the door. I pull my clothes off, left in only a bra and underwear.

"Viktoria," I mutter under my breath. Realizing that she, in fact, is the one who must've done this to me. A bright flash blinds me for only a second. There she is, hidden in my closet, with a camera sticking out through the crack of the folding doors.

"Viktoria, give me the camera." I glare, opening up the closet door. Giggling, she runs away, escaping my failed attempts to steal the camera from her hands.

"What do you plan on doing with those photos, anyway?"

"I don't know." She shrugs, then an evil grin appears. "Black mail."

Those were her last words before she ran out of my room, her laughter filling the entire house. I rolled my eyes, not bothering to follow after her. One day when she doesn't expect it, I'll delete that photo off of every electronic device, I'll even search her entire room for a printed version if I have to.

Examining his bedroom, I see a bookshelf that I've never noticed before. I pick a random book from the shelf, running my fingers over its worn out exterior. I chuckle softly, reading the title of the novel. Of course it's a western novel. I can't help but sneak a smile.

As I open the book, something falls out, drifting softly to the floor. It had small print writing, in Russian, of course. But, there's one sentence that I am able to translate. As the note reads, "ошибки будут преследовать своим настоящим и будущим." , also translated as, "Mistakes will haunt your present and future." Signed by Yeva. The rest of the note I couldn't understand, but I don't think I needed to in order to realize what Yeva was trying to tell him. Yeva knew exactly what was going to happen. All this time, she knew. Or—I'm just being a complete lunatic and looking into things inaccurately. I shut my eyes, muttering things to myself. Obviously it's the latter. Nobody would care that much over a break-up—or whatever I could call it. There's no way our "whatever it's called" could possibly haunt him. I'm just grasping onto all hopes that he cared—that he still cares.

"Dimitri doesn't care," I whisper to myself. What I don't understand is how he could just throw everything away. But I guess dying and coming back from the dead changes a person. It definitely changed me.

I could've prevented the entire thing. That's what kills me the most. All I had to do was go after him. All I had to do was fight for him. But I didn't. I let him die that night in the caves. And now because of that, I've lost him. I've lost him forever.

I take a seat in the chair positioned next to the bookshelf, and I try to dissipate my thoughts. Shockingly, for the first time I don't feel like crying. I think I'm starting to get a handle over my emotions.

Once again, I observe the book, reading the synopsis on the back. And then I did something I never thought I would ever do. I started reading it. Maybe it was my subconscious way of finding any possible way to connect to Dimitri, or maybe it was just my abrupt interest in discovering why people seemed to find Western novels so interesting. Whatever my reasons, the real question is—how did I get so absorbed in reading this novel? It's now almost midnight!

My stomach growled, sounding angry. Because of this disastrous event, I've completely neglected my bodies essential needs! Food.

I quietly tip-toe down the steps, finding myself searching in the dim-lighted kitchen for food. I found some left over borsch in the fridge, which is one of Olena's famous soups. But I went with a honeycake—a thin, sweet creamed and honeyed spongecake. Viktoria made them earlier today. They're supposed to be left over night in order to observe the cream—but I just can't wait! I've got to try them now.

I moan at the delicacy of its sweetness, as the spongecake melts in my mouth.

"What are you doing?" I freeze, about to put a piece of honeycake in my mouth. I quickly hide it behind my back

"Nothing," I say, innocently.

"Are you destroying the masterpiece that I spent almost the entire evening working on?" Viktoria storms into the kitchen. But it was hard to take someone with bed-head very seriously.

I try to sneak the piece behind my back into my mouth.

"I say that," she exclaims, throwing her hands into the hair. "Two and a half hours, Rose. That's what you owe me."

"I didn't even eat . . ." the entire thing, I was about to say. But I look over at the plate, only to discover a few left over crumbs. "Oops."

Viktoria cries out in frustration. "I can't handle this tonight. Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight." I frown, feeling a little bit shamed. The flavours I just tasted were definitely worth it, though. I hear the slam of her door, and then I myself, race to my room. Viktoria most likely woke up the entire house. I don't need to be caught by anybody else eating the entire eight-layer honey cake all to myself. I shrug to myself. It's the Belikova's own fault for not letting me know it was dinner time while I was stuffing my face in a book.

The book . . . I can't believe I was actually intensely indulged by a book. I quickly check the mirror, ensuring that I still looked like Rose Hathaway. Positive with my identity, I give a long sigh, making myself comfy in my bed.

Hello Everyone!

Please be so kind to leave a comment!

I am currently considering posting this story, entirely, to both Wattpad and Fanfiction, and I would love some opinions on what I should do! I need to know how many people are willing to switch over to Wattpad in order to read this story, but please, please let me know if by my decision to not post this entire story to Fanfiction, how many of you will I lose? I really do appreciate your opinions.

Thank you so much!

ps. you can find chapter four on wattpad. Username "CaroleRose_".