Chapter 13- Death is a luxury.

It was him; it was Azazel. Did she doubt it? Obviously not, but the optimist in her somehow hoped that she wouldn’t see him, but luck was never on her side, not now, not ever. Her luck ended with her parents. She lifted her head to face him; he stood taller, like a Hyperion in a field of dwarf willow. The forest’s silence was deadly, yet somehow, he looked deadlier. Athena gulped, “Please,” she was begging before she knew it. She hated begging him, but she would take begging over death anytime.

“Oh, you will please me, princess, you will, but before that. Let’s, go talk, shall we?” he bent to hold her, but she started to crawl away the minute he bent down, anticipating his move. Azazel pinched the bridge of his nose, “I have enjoyed the chase, Raven, but now it is time to end this game,” he pulled her by her ankles, held her hand tight, and lifted her while she was still struggling, “Stop struggling,” he moved his hands to her waist, digging his nails there, but his words made Athena