The Outsiders

The Outsiders: Chapter Thirty-Three

Khristopher De Caldwick

My heart could only sink as I stared at Soum, hollower than any hallway, any coloridor, any bedchamber in Caldwick.

             "No!" I yelled as my voice failed at the end, clawing at Promatteo.

              "Don't struggle or you'll only make this harder," he spat, releasing me from under him.

              Before he could utter another word, I rushed to his aid, falling to my knees as my soul throbbed in my body. A pain like I had never felt before rushed through my body as so touched his skin: dull and lifeless, without his scent, without his warmth. Both of his souls were gone, and it would only be a matter of time before he would truly leave.

"P-please, please, please," I cried, placing my hand on his heart.

             Taking him into my arms, I cradled him, hoping to feel him: not his body, him. Running my hand down his hair, I felt his soft curls before I was met with the cold skin on his navel. As my tears fell over my lover's body, Ptomatteo had the audacity to place his hand on my shoulder. Hiding his face from the facade of his killer, I could only hold Soum closer to my chest: maybe our hearts will beat at the same rhythm once again if he heard the pleading drum of my own.

             "Oh, look at what you've made me do. If only you listened to the guards, your brother, your servants. You're forbidden to leave Caldwick, for your protection."

              Crouching down, he tore my hands away from Soum, pulling me to his side.

"All of this is four your own good, Khristopher. All of it. As your father—"

"You are not my father. You aren't my kin. You are nothing."

I said, pulling away from his arms as I shook. Not only was I angry, I was furious. Furious for those who died before me. Furious for my mate. Furious for every way Ptomatteo had wronged me and my true kin. Backing away from him, I conjured my wings, sneering at him as tears ran down my eyes.

"Khristopher, enough. Haven't you learned anything from your punishment?"

"Well, I have learned that once your mate's carnal body dies, the bond is broken. But do you want to know how much pain that causes? How that torture manifests?"

Though my body was weak and my soul could only die, I conjured the Volucris Veil, placing it over my eyes, protecting Soum's body from true death. Promatteo's eyebrows furrowed as he rested his hand over his chest. It only took for me to conjure the Scythe to make him realize: he had no control over me, not anymore.

"Guards! Rouges! Attack!" he yelled, clutching his chest.

             My gaze turned to the Rouges before my eyes widened. Laying on the grass with a field of light around her, Sonia protected herself from the rouges. Rushing towards her, I all but touched the bubble before her yell resonated through the thick bubble.

             "No! I'm just regenerating, protect Soum, I'll be good in a few minutes."

             Warily nodding, I took off, searching the ground. Rouges littered Caldwick's feild along with the guards as Ptomatteo yelled for them, pointing at me as they encircled Soum. Diving, I aimed for Soum before a guard swung for my wing, sending me to the ground. As I came to my feet, my surroundings were blurred with iron and fur. As my wing healed, I took guard, swinging for the Rogues and the guards that tried to test their ability.