The Great War

XVIII

Three Months skip—

"You'll go to the far side, keep them distracted from a safe distance. Don't be stupid, don't be reckless. It costs lives. You guys will go right, same goes for you. I'll make my way towards Lucifer with Ophelia. We'll put an end to this."

I look up from the table leaning on my hands, giving the group a nod as they parted ways. The last people in the room consisted of Baal, Ophelia and Theo. I look back down at my plan on the table with a sigh.

"Hey," I look up as a hand gently rubs my mid back. Theo looks down at me with concern swirling in his eyes, "You okay?"

I nod and push off the table smiling at him as best I could, "I'm okay. Overwhelmed I guess, I don't think I really expected to become a leader of a war." I dryly attempt humor with him, he cracks a sad smile and sighs.

"Come here." He murmurs pulling me into him, he wraps his arms around me snuggly and lays his chin on my head. I sigh into his shoulder and squeeze him, "You'll be okay. We'll get through this, I promise."

I nod and close my eyes for a fraction of a second. Allowing myself to feel okay for this second of peace.

"I have to go, I'll see you after, okay?" He says as pulls back and cups my face lifting it up to look him in the eyes. I nod and he leans down kissing me long and soft. It feels almost like a goodbye, just in case something happened to either of us. I place my hands at the sides of his neck when he pulls back pressing his forehead to mine.

"I love you." He mumbles and I squeeze my eyes shut.

 "I love you too."

And just like that, almost in a blur that I love you turned to pained screams of my name as I crumbled to my knees in front of Lucifer, his hand dripping crimson as my body grew cold and wet, he stared at me with glassy eyes, a tear falling down his bloody sweaty face. His body shaking, I've never seen so much loss in a person. Not until I saw him.

So much darkness and grief I thought I could ease.

I fall back with a choke as I wither in pain my hands clamping down on my stomach as that cold chill runs through my body. The screams of my name and just the sounds of brutality distorting as I look up at the sky, the black smoke rising up and swirling around with the gray desolate sky.

I choke on my breath when dirt flies up as someone falls to their knees, "You're going to be okay." They rush out as hands fold underneath my back and start to pull up, there it was, the hot flash of rippling pain. I let out a scream, shredding my throat and piercing my ears as my body's pressed to someone else's and their hands apply pressure to my stomach.

"It's okay... I know, I'm sorry." They rush out in a strained voice, their tone wavering and I look up, shallow fast breaths leaving me as I stare at Theo, his face flushed and tears relentless as they fall from his eyes. I've never seen him look so panicked, so scared. He'd always been so focused, so stoic, so quiet. Now he was loud, commanding, crying.

𖤐

There he stood, staring at the love of his love on the sofa of some woman he'd only met just months prior to this... this war... He never asked for this, none of it. For as long as he could remember he'd only ever wanted her; to love her, to be with her, to stand with her, to hold her. Not see her barely holding on because this role of war was pushed upon her.

"This is all your fault." He lowly says, his breath tight and restrained as he stands beside her, her scuffed up hand tightly held in his own, his knuckles bleeding and cut open from a fight he started earlier with Baal. Head bowed, dirty messy black hair curtaining his face; it'd grown over the past year, now meeting his shoulders.

He didn't look back at the person he was talking to, the room stood stagnant and quiet until he repeated himself with more vigor and more heed, "This is all your fault!"

He unraveled before the eyes of every soul in the room as he turned his head just slightly, his eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying, a nasty bruise coloring the pale skin of his cheek.

"You did this to her. She didn't ask for any of this... but you... you just had to push her, you used her for your own gain. You're pathetic." He spat out as he released Daphne's hand and stood to his own two feet, his head slightly bowed and cocked; it was an unnerving sight to see on the usually quiet man. Ophelia took a step back, though not in fear, just surprise.

"I didn't push her, Theodore. I'm sorry if that's what you think, but she had a choice and she made it." She spoke calmly, maybe it was the wrong choice to make, using such a calm tone on a hound ready to bite her head off. It came off almost condescending even when she hadn't meant for it to.

"She was just a kid when you imprinted her with whatever you did. A child! You ruined her life, and now she's dying because of you, because of your choice! Own it. You weak, pompous, godly witch." He spoke the word like it'd been a slur, which in a way, was. Back in her time it'd be a death sentence for such words to leave a man's mouth. And he meant it with as much hate and venom as a human could muster. And yet it still didn't feel like enough.

"Why are you blaming me? I didn't make her do it, Theodore. She walked up, she spoke to him. She knew the risks and she took them. Where were you? I tried to help her. What did you do?" She seemed to only dig her heels in further, never a woman to back down and it eventually became her downfall, even now, as she stared eye to eye with her soul kins lover. He was scared, she knew that. But she couldn't soothe him, maybe she didn't even want to.

"Don't even try that. I was there, I was on my knees before you even blinked an eye in her general direction when she went down. You looked like a lost puppy while I called for your help. You call yourself a goddess when you used her to save a world that was dying anyway, I would burn it for her. I'd burn you if it meant saving her. Believe you, me. The only thing stopping me from doing anything is a promise."

He got close and personal as the words seeped off his tongue like cold stinging blood, a viper sinking his teeth into his prey.

Almost nose to nose with the woman who claimed to be saintly. No fear, just blood-thirsty anger. Anger of vengeance for his soulmate who's laying behind him dying.

The one thing that brought his mind back to him, that grounded him from lunging at her like a feral dog was the hand that made its way in his. Turning his head he met eyes with the sparkly honey color he'd fallen in love with when he was just a boy.

"Oh, god," he breathed out in a deep sigh of pure relief, all that anger and sadness seemed to melt away as he dropped back to his knees at Daphne's side, gripping her hand back as he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

All that mattered was her, and he'd make sure no one would ever lay a finger on her again. One last conversation, one promise running through his rampant mind as he dotted over his lover.

"Promise me, I'm serious Theo, promise me no matter what happens— you won't hurt her? I know what you're like. Just promise not to go all haywire?"

"Why?"

"Because I know how you get, I know all your tricks pretty boy, you can't hide them."

A soft laugh left him, "I promise,"