The Majors, Cold Fury (Book 2)

Chapter 83: The Wielder of Love

~Scott~

My breaths came in sharp gasps now, stabbing into my lungs like daggers as I choked the air down.

This had to be one of my dreams ri- right?

"Please wake up." I begged aloud, half talking to her and half talking to myself. I'd wake up...and everything would be fine. I shook Erin back and forth, part of me still unwilling to believe she had faded to a memory. But her body remained motionless, and limp, her skin paler than the moon.

Another sob shook me as I slowly laid her head against the ground, her hair a mixture of the red-laced white and brown pooling beneath it with the blood.

Her expression seemed strangely...peaceful, her thoughts lost to time. But I couldn't get passed the lifelessness behind her eyes, a lifelessness that had replaced the once wild and determined look she had held.

I hadn't even managed to get out a goodbye before she had slipped from my grasp, farther away now than she had ever been before...

Slowly, I lifted my head to meet the eyes of the elf that had killed her.

What I didn't expect was for Xornoth's eyes, irises flickering a shade of purple for just a moment, possibly a trick of the light cascading from the fire, to be wide with shock, horror twisting his expression for just a moment as they witnessed the scene. In disbelief at what they had done.

That was, before his face contorted into a smirk. "Well, I didn't think it would be that easy." He said with a smug look tracing his lips.

"You." I snarled, my voice shaking with nothing short of murderous rage as I got to my feet. My hands trembled with fury; my vision still blurred from salty tears.

"Yes, me." Xornoth replied simply, examining his nails for a moment before he raised his face again with a grin. "In all honesty I didn't actually expect our dear sister to take that blow for you. Seems she got...soft."

"Oh?" I asked, my chest still panging and the lump within my throat beating as if it was my heart that had crawled from my ribcage.

Xornoth raised an eyebrow at the word I breathed, wearing a judgmental look as he glanced me up and down. "You reacted to this much more poorly than I'd thought. It's pathetic. Clearly I had to get rid of the girl, she would have gotten in the way."

"You know what's pathetic?" I asked, a growl resonating in the back of my throat, low with the rest of my tone. "Killing a teenager because you were scared–" My heart nearly stopped as I spoke the words. "–destroying a city, home to millions of people because of something that happened over a DECADE ago! This was my home; this was your home, this was HER HOME!"

"Was being the key word there, brother." He replied with a smooth tone, as if they were speaking of anything but this.

"Don't call me brother." I spat, glaring at the man in front of me with a look of hatred. Hatred that boiled hotter than the air surrounding me. Hatred that ran deeper than my veins. "Because you are no family of mine."

Xornoth's expression faltered for barely a second, shifting from the smug look to one of shock, before one of anger. "Our blood runs deeper than you think, Scott." He replied, voice laced with venom. "There is no changing it with something as simple as words."

"Then I'll kill you and spill it." I snapped, fists clenching at my sides as I spoke my threat.

Xornoth's eyes narrowed. "Oh, you know you can't." He hissed. "Not with death dangling over your own head. But you wouldn't even be able to if you tried."