Chapter 45
Forty-Five
KELLAN
I n his rage, Kellan’s sword severed through a limb. Blood spurted across his face, his clothing, and along the edge of his blade. He’d taken Lucifer’s hand from the wrist down, and it tumbled to the ground beneath his feet, muscle and bone protruding from where the chunk of flesh once sat. With a blood curdling scream, Kellan was consumed in a wall of darkness for a mere moment before stepping out of it completely as the Dark King disappeared, his wounded figure retreating further up the mountain.
Kellan turned, fighting back that welling sea of rage that threatened to become him.
Demitria’s eyes were unnaturally wide as she gripped her abdomen with trembling fingers. Lucifer’s sword pierced clean through her body, staining the golden fuller of the blade.
“Kellan…” Her voice wavered, and he’d never heard that melodious voice so panicked. The terror in her eyes as she looked up at him, her body swaying as she crumpled to the ground beneath his feet. Kellan was beside her in a heartbeat, catching her frail body in his arms before she made impact. Holding her to him as he knelt there. Willing. Begging that growing inferno within him to subside. To just give him time to think. To figure something—anything, out.
“No… no.” His own fingers trembled as he reached for the blade marring the beautiful ivory of her soft skin. He was horrified at the events that had played out. It couldn’t be happening. It was supposed to be—should have been him. Him , that died on this battlefield. Not her. Never her.
Kellan’s hand curled around the blade, feeling it cut into his palm as his own blood mixed with hers. Panic set in, and he was ripping the sword from her body, hurling it away as if it had burned a permanent scar into his hand. Kellan could feel the blood on his fingertips. Her blood. They were both coated in her blood. It pooled around her, into his lap and across the stone, and he couldn’t make it stop as she began to bleed out.
He could feel it writhing beneath his skin, like a serpent, winding and slithering just below the surface as his power begged to be freed. To consume. To lay waste to anything and everything in his path.
“I’m… sorry.” She coughed, spitting up more of the crimson liquid that began to fill her lungs, and that tether went taut.
“Don’t say that. Don’t say you’re sorry.” He cried out, shaking his head. He couldn’t hear the words. Couldn’t let her say them. “You stay with me.” Kellan’s hand brushed across her face. Over the trembling bottom lip as he caressed her. Feeling as the warmth, her lifeforce, began to leave her body. Demitria coughed again, and it coated his armor. His shirt. “I mean it, Demitria. You aren’t going anywhere.”
He’d been a fucking idiot. Had led her into the trap that would take her life. A life that he wanted—needed more time to explore. To learn and map out every inch of her skin. Every freckle and scar. To commit every noise to memory. But there was always blood. More blood on his hands. Blood he had never wanted to spill over a war he had never wanted to happen.
“Kellan… I-I need you to know something.” She swallowed, wincing from the pain that coursed through her body from the gaping wound in her chest.
“Anything. Just stay here. Stay with me.” He pleaded, his fingers digging into her that little bit harder, as if she’d do just that.
Her eyes closed briefly, the movement slow and dragged out, and she laughed softly before the sound died out as she winced once more. “I was falling for you. Hard.” Kellan knew the sharp intake of breath sent another wave of searing pain through her, but she pushed on. Knowing the words needed to leave her lips before it was too late. “Harder than I ever thought was possible.” A hint of a smile graced her full lips, and he rubbed his thumb across them once more. “I think I love you.”
Something in him shattered. Like every single bone in his entire body broke at those three beautiful words. He was completely torn wide open, shattered into a million little pieces by that damning phrase, but he smiled at her anyway. Willing it to meet his eyes. “There was a reason I couldn’t kill you when we met. A pull I still can’t explain.” He whispered, not letting the panic that threatened to take hold, the tremble his body fought, find its way to his voice. “I needed you, more than I’ve ever needed anyone before. Now I need you to stay here.” Kellan’s forehead rested on her own as he closed his eyes. Something rumbling through him. A feeling he hadn’t felt before, almost as if he’d been the one who had been pierced through the chest. “I love you, Demitria.”
“I was sure I wouldn’t get to hear you say it, but I’m glad I could, even just once.” She smiled again, and Kellan could tell she was growing weaker with each breath she took. “I’ve wanted to hear it for a while.” Her breathing was shaky now, and a ragged sigh left her lips. “I hope we can meet again… someday.” She stared into his silver lined azure eyes as she drew her last breath, and her chest fell still.
For the first time in as long as he could remember, Kellan, one of the Four Horsemen, War. Warrior and bringer of destruction, hung his head and cried.