Don't Let Go (Third Book to the Other Side)

Chapter Fourteen (The Lord of the Sky)

I keep my hand clenched tight around my weapon as the three of them disappear. My once friends. The people I thought I could have trusted. All gone in a blink of an eye. They abandon me. Well, at this point, I am used to it.

George is in front of me seconds later. He holds out a hand the way a friend would, but instead of taking it like he wants, I just stare at him. Fortunately, he doesn't press the matter. Instead, his gaze drifts to the girl laying at my feet, her crimson life force drained onto the sand.

"Well," he says, swallowing. He doesn't enjoy killing, as much as he would have one believe. I see the hesitation in his face, the way his clenched fists tremble. He is not immune to the horrors that death brings, and he assumes himself weaker for it.

But I, on the other hand? I simply step over her body as if she is nothing more than a roadblock in my way. I have no time for the dead.

"Look at this," George says, bending down to the corpse to pick something up. I keep my eyes trained on him at all times, not willing to look away from him for even a second. I still shudder at the thought of what he has done to me before.

"Are you done yet, or must we stay here longer than necessary?" I finally ask, my voice echoing in the empty stadium. "I hate this place." It is too big, and the sky above us is not real. Just another illusion. I'm seeing so many that I'm starting to lose track of what's real and what's fake.

Like Alexander's feelings for me.

"Yes, yes," George says, and I don't have to look at him to know he is frowning. He is impatient with me, and though it might be foolish, I do not care. My fury with Alexander has grown so complete, it fills my every waking moment. I do not know if I will be able to rest until I see him hurt as much as he has hurt me.

I want him to hurt. To tear everyone he ever loved out of his grasp and shove my scythe into their neck. Over and over again, until he is left with nothing but his guilt. I want him to suffer the same way I have. I want him to cry. I want him to break.

I cannot get his words out of my head. They play over and over again, grim as the toll of a bell, and it doesn't matter how hard I try to ignore them.

Someone who actually matters could get killed.

Those damned words haunt every dream I have and every moment I spend alone, and I am unable to think of anything but how much anger lurked behind his voice as he shouted them. The implication that I never mattered to him still makes me want to scream myself past exhaustion, or hole myself up and cry until I cannot cry anymore.

And now, they have come true.

But I do not feel any better. I just feel empty, and far more alone than I have ever felt before. And I have to wonder, is it me?

"But look at this necklace," George insists. I turn to finally give him the attention he seeks. He is holding the necklace by the golden chain, smiling at me with something truly devious hidden in his gaze. Whatever trepidation he displayed earlier is long gone. I accept the necklace as he hands it to me. A rose hangs from it, colored a soft pink. It means nothing to me.

"What am I looking at?" I ask, lifting my eyes from the petty triviality.

"The letters A.S. are engraved in the back. Looks like this belongs to her sister."

"So?" I ask, my wings flexing in annoyance. I want to get back my room and continue with my studies, not sit here and talk about the stupidest things ever.