Chapter 2

We were running.

The sound of the Winchester was growing unbearably loud, and my demon instinct was to turn around and fight him, but that would've undoubtedly led to my death. I could see the stress in James's eyes and I was overwhelmed with concern for him. The Winchester would not be allowed to kill him, not on my watch.

"James, someone needs to be sent back to stall the Winchester," I advised. He looked at me with an expression of shock but understanding. This was the only way we could survive.

"You two! Go back and fight him!" he called to two buff demons. They faltered for only a moment before turning around, knowing their doom was imminent. At least this way, they'd get to see the mysterious Winchester and die in battle. "Okay, everyone split up. Hide out and maybe you'll survive this!"

Clémont looked at me and gave a curt nod before running away, just like everyone else in the pack. I stopped in my steps. Where the hell would I go? I was shit at hiding. That's why I was dead.

"Let's go, Aaron," James susurrated as he grabbed my hand. His black eyes seemed less cruel as he stared at me pleadingly. I felt my body shake.

"Aaron. We need to go." He kept his firm clutch on my hand as he dragged me through the forest. After a few minutes, I couldn't smell the Winchester anymore, but we kept running. The minutes dragged on and on until James spotted a strong looking tree.

"We can climb it and stay there. He'll lose track of us." We rapidly mounted the tree and found mildly comfortable limbs near the top to rest and get our energy back. James closed his eyes and breathed through his nose and mouth deeply, and I was absolutely memorized.

"How crazy would I sound if I said I'll miss this?" I asked quietly, partially hoping he wouldn't hear me.

"Not as crazy as you'd think," James smiled a small smile. "I didn't exactly make you part of the group for your fighting skills."

"Why then?"

"You're cute."

Screaming woke me up. I opened my eyes and saw that James was covered in blood. Oh, God, his own blood. An unfamiliar figure was clinging to James's tree limb and stabbing him repeatedly. The Winchester.

"No!" I screamed. The human didn't even respond to me, he just kept stabbing James. My scream increased in volume as any hope of James surviving diminished. "Stop! Please!" Tears filled my eyes.

Tears?

When's the last time I cried?

I was sobbing. Did I even sob as a human?

The Winchester finally turned and looked at me. His expressions changed from confusion, repulsion, curiosity, to a look of recognition. I struggled down from my tree branch and hurriedly pulled myself to James's. His body was soaking, but he was alive and conscious.

"James? James, I'm sorry. What do I do?" I stumbled over my words. James reached up and held my face with an unexpected amount of force.

"You're gonna die. It's okay." Before he could say another word, the Winchester swiftly cut his head off in one simple motion. No.

I felt rage burning every part of my body. James was right; I was gonna die and there was no point in denying that. I turned towards the Winchester who already had his knife out, ready to cut my head off. I had only moments.

"I know," he said.