Page 81 of Blood and War
Forty-Six
JACE
Loss.
Grief.
Guilt.
Jace had yet to move from the ground where he’d fallen when Demitria broke free from his grip. Staring at his hands as if he’d been the one to stab her with the sword. He’d been an immovable fortress, and she’d still tossed him away as if he’d been lighter than a feather.
“Let me take her.” Jace whispered. His hands shook. Trembling with his own grief coursing through him. His only family. The only person remaining that he trulyloved, and she was gone. Had slipped through his fingers before he could get a better hold of her. Before he could anchor himself around her frame, and never let her go. Now she was dead. Her body unmoving as the Horseman cried. “Let me take her.” He repeated, voice wavering. Weak. Pathetic. He didn’t care.
Kellan didn’t move. Whether unwilling to answer him, or had been so lost in his own emotions, Jace didn’t know.
“Please.” He broke, choking back the sob that tore from his throat. He couldn’t make himself move. To get up and take her body from Kellan’s hands, so he sat on the ground. Thebite of the stone in his knees, the blood from his own wounds swelling to the surface, and he couldn’t even feel it. Everything was numb, yet he was broken. “Kellan let me take her.” Jace couldn’t help the tears as they flowed freely from his eyes. They’d promised to return. To end this together.
They’d promised each other they would never be alone. To never leave the other, and stay together. And even with the deaths of their families. His parents. Their entire world, he’d never felt alone, because she’d always been at his side. But now, that was all he’d ever be.
Alone.
On steady legs, Kellan moved toward him. Passing Demitria’s limp body to his awaiting arms. The grief that had overtaken him had vanished, replaced with a killing calm.
Jace cradled her to his own body, pressing his forehead to hers. Still warm. Still smelled like she had, after all those years, it had never changed. Like a field of lavender on a crisp morning. Never again would he smell it. Never would he breathe it in, wishing that it would just overcome him.
“You weren’t supposed to leave me. This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Jace rocked their bodies back and forth. Pulling his head away only to brush the tousled hair off her face. The tips had been stained with her own blood, and it smeared on his fingers, cold, and no longer warm. He didn’t care, but wished it was his own. What he wouldn’t give to see her smiling again. To stare into those green-gold eyes he’d grown so accustomed to—so fond of, over the years. To take her place. He’d give anything to trade places with her, right here and now.
His own scream echoed over the mountain.
Anger.
Grief.
Regret.
It hit him with a slamming force that could have cleaved the mountain in two. As if his very being was shattered the moment her body fell.
A piece of Jace died with her.
Forty-Seven
KELLAN
Kellan watched the human wailing as he rocked Demitria back and forth as he brushed her face with gentle fingers as if she’d come back to life under his touch. Kellan felt it deep within his chest, that nagging feeling again. The loss he knew Jace must be feeling. He’d had years with her, and Kellan knew what it looked like when a human was broken. When they’d given up on everything. Jace was the spitting image. His face was hollow, pale, his eyes dull. Lifeless, like something in himself had died. As if any light that had been within had gone out the moment Demitria had taken her last breath.
Kellan could feel himself slipping into that rage, willing every ounce of it to come pouring into him. Feeling the surge as it thrummed in his veins, pumping through his blood as itrejoiced. He was murderous. Craving nothing more than destruction and death. What he had been groomed to be. A being of mass destruction, and he welcomed every fucking ounce of it.
Kellan crossed the threshold and let the darkness take over.
With his sword in his hand, he stalked in the direction Lucifer fled. A fiery darkness emanated from him, nearly identical to the one Lucifer wielded, winding itself around him as it clung to everything that he was. Like a power of thegods, it pulsed through him. Igniting. Burning. Kellan was hell incarnate. This was why the Dark King had held him in his clutches for so long. Why he had led that army through countless wars. He was fire, he was rage, he was darkness. And it mirrored everything that Lucifer was.
The remaining Horsemen were quick on his heels, readying themselves for the fight that was coming. A battle that he knew had been on each of their minds for so long now, but Kellan whirled around, turning his sword on his own siblings.
“I go alone.” The growl rumbled through him. His eyes dark. Murderous, as he stared at each of them. “Back off.”
“You can’t do this alone. Not like this.” Gabriel stood his ground and toed toward his brother. Kellan swung his blade, and Gabriel jumped back a foot to miss the deadly point. Friend or foe, he could hardly discern the difference. Not when he couldfeelhis eyes turn into that depthless pool of black.
“Follow me and I will turn on you. Back the fuck up.” He had such little restraint as something told him to swing. To pierce his sword through flesh, and let the bodies build before him so he could bathe in their blood. Drink it in.
