Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
DEMITRIA
H er fault. She blamed herself.
Jace was dead because of her. It repeated over and over again in her mind.
Her fault.
Beneath her, Atlas mimicked her every mood. The horse was sullen. Quiet. His feet almost dragging along the ground as they rode. Understanding the loss she had suffered. Jace’s blood was on her hands. All of theirs. Stella, Cory, Evan… they’d all died because the demons had come for her.
She’d wished the Horsemen hadn’t rescued her in that cave. They should have let her die. Let her soul break, and fed it to the Dark King, whoever the fuck that was supposed to be. It would have prevented all this. Could have saved the lives of those she’d lost.
The jacket hung heavy on her shoulders. Weighed her down. She didn’t care. It still smelled like him. He’d always had that soft scent of mint around him, and the jacket was no different. Like it had been pressed into the leather. Worked its way through every fiber until it was wafting through her. Taking over every sense she possessed.
Jace.
It was all she could think about. His face. His smile. His laugh. Oh gods, his laugh. She loved it. Loved every damn part of him. No matter how mad she was, how far down she’d fallen, he’d always been there. Waiting. Waiting to pull her back up again.
But he wouldn’t be there. Not this time. There was no coming back from this one. Never again would she hear him speak. Never hear the melodious sound of his voice as he softly hummed to himself when he thought no one was listening. Always some old rock song from before the Ascension. One their fathers would always have blaring through a speaker in a backyard filled with green grass as they played. As they laughed without a care in the world. Never again .
It had been ten days since she’d run from the community. Ten days since she’d seen his face. Four since she’d learned of his death. She took back every word she’d said about him. Every curse. Every damning thought she’d ever had about him, she took it back. She took it all back, like somehow, it would change things. Change everything.
She never got to say goodbye. Didn’t get to see him one last time. His body could be anywhere. Eaten by those fucking creatures, or burned within the flames. Lost to the world. Lost to her . Lifting her eyes toward the bright afternoon sun, she blinked. Once. Twice. The tears welled in her eyes once more. Never ending. They never stopped. The pain never stopped.
Her fingers trembled along the reins. Focusing on their detail as she’d done so many times before when she’d been mad. Mad at him. But this time was different. The anger was placed solely on herself. She wouldn’t even be here if she hadn’t insisted on doing patrol some weeks back. Maybe if she’d just been there, she could have made a difference. Plead for their lives. His life. But they’d never been known to show mercy, either. At least if she’d been there, they could have died fighting side by side, and no longer would she feel this agony inside her chest.
The demons could all go to hell. Or was that what the Horsemen were trying to do anyway? Send them back there? She didn’t know. Didn’t care. They were the ones who had invaded her home first. Before the angels who had undoubtedly followed not soon after, but none of that mattered anymore. The humans hadn’t attacked first. She hadn’t attacked them first.
The High Council had played her out to be this murderous monster. Had sent not only The Horseman, but an Archangel after her to eliminate the ‘threat’ that they claimed her to be. All she’d ever done was tried to survive in this fucked up world. Tried to live.
A deadly calm took over her. Body stiffening as the thoughts swarmed throughout. The burning community. Her parents’ eyes. The blood pooled on the floor. All of it had led her here, to this moment.
She would be what they claimed her to be. Would become the murderous creature they swore she was. Demitria was out for blood. For revenge.
“What’s wrong?” Kellan watched as her demeanor changed. The hardening of her features. The emotionless stare. It had been a carbon copy of the one she’d seen him don so many times before.
Demitria didn’t answer him, just stared out at the horizon. The horse beneath her mimicked her calm. Alert. At the ready. His movements thunderous and deadly as he walked along. Like a shadow cutting through the night.
“I’m going to kill him with my bare hands,” She growled. “And all those that follow him.”
She only had one want now. One need, and she didn’t care how she got there.
Demitria would cut each and every one of the fucking creatures down, starting with their gods damned king.