He heard Xu Ling struggle and call out, "But I want to stay with you."
He bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood. He allowed himself a single glance over his shoulder.
When Luo Chen tightened his grip on the struggling Xu Ling, his dark hair brushing her shoulders, Jiang Lang's need for bloodshed intensified. He almost changed direction, almost sprinted back into the courtyard to tear his friend apart. Mine, his mind screamed. Mine. I found her. No one but me should be allowed to touch her.
Jiang Lang wasn't sure if it was the spirit or himself who thought such a thing, and he didn't care. He just wanted to kill. Yes, kill. Fury exploded through him. He did stop. He did change direction. He was going to cut Luo Chen in half and cover the courtyard with his friend's blood. Destroy, destroy, destroy. Kill.
"He's going to attack!" Luo Chen shouted.
"Get her out of here!" Lin Fan yelled.
Luo Chen dragged Xu Ling from the courtyard. Her panicked cries echoed in Jiang Lang's ears, only fueling his darkest desires. The image of her pale, lovely face flashed in his mind, becoming the only thing he saw. She was terrified. She had trusted him, wanted him. Her arms had reached for him.
His stomach was a searing mass of pulsing agony, but he didn't slow his steps. Any minute, his sundown would arrive, and he would die—but he was taking everyone here with him. Yes, they must be destroyed.
"Ah, hell," Yan Lie muttered. "The demon has completely taken over. We'll have to subdue him. Luo Chen, get back in here. Hurry!"
Yan Lie, Bai Long, and Feng Yue advanced. With lightning speed, Jiang Lang unsheathed his daggers and threw them. Anticipating the attack, all three men ducked, and the silver blades flew over them, embedding themselves in the wall. Two seconds later, the men were upon him, and he was lying flat on his back. Fists pounded his face, his stomach, his groin. He fought, roaring, growling, punching.
Knuckles slammed into his jaw, dislocating it. A knee jammed into his groin. Still he fought. And as the battle raged, the warriors managed to drag him up the stairs and into his bedroom. Jiang Lang thought he heard Xu Ling sobbing, thought he saw her trying to pull the men away from him. He thrust his fist forward and hit something—a nose. Heard a howl. Felt satisfaction. Wanted more blood.
"Damn it! Chain him, Bai Long, before he breaks someone else's damn nose."
"He's too strong. I'm not sure how much longer I can hold him."
Minutes passed as he fought, perhaps an eternity, then cold metal locked around his wrists and ankles. Jiang Lang bucked and arched, the chains cutting into his flesh. "Bastards!" The pain in his stomach was unbearable now, no longer intermittent but constant. "I'll kill you. I'll drag every one of you to the deepest hell with me."
Bai Long stood over him, a dark look of determination and regret on his tanned face. Jiang Lang tried to knock him down by raising his knees and kicking, but the chains held. The warrior, too, held steady, withdrawing a long, menacing sword from his side.
"I'm sorry," Bai Long rasped as a gong chimed the hour. And then he stabbed Jiang Lang in the stomach.
The metal sliced all the way to his spine before being withdrawn. Instantly, blood poured from the wound, soaking his chest and stomach. Bile burned his throat and nose. He cursed and thrashed.
Bai Long stabbed him again. And again.
The pain… the agony… His skin felt scorched. With just those three strikes, his bones and organs were already shredded, each tear a point of excruciating pain. Still he fought; still he felt a desperate urge to kill.
A woman screamed. "Stop! You're killing him!"
When her voice pierced Jiang Lang's consciousness, his struggles became even more frantic. Xu Ling. His woman from the forest. His. He had to get to her. Had to kill her—no! He had to save her. Kill… save… the two needs battled for dominance. He jerked at his chains. The metal shackles dug deeper into his wrists and ankles, but he reared up and kicked. The bed shook violently, and both the headboard and footboard bent forward with a groan.
"Why are you doing this?" Xu Ling shouted. "Stop! Don't hurt him. Oh heavens, stop!"
Bai Long stabbed him again.
Black spots danced in his vision as he searched the room. He dimly saw Feng Yue striding towards Xu Ling. Reached her, wrapped his arms around her. She looked small in his embrace, enveloped in his shadow. Tears glistened in her amber eyes and on her pale cheeks.
She struggled, but Feng Yue held her firmly and dragged her from the room.
Jiang Lang let out an animalistic roar. Feng Yue would seduce her, strip her, and taste her. She wouldn't be able to resist; no woman could. "Let her go! Now!" He strained so desperately for freedom that a blood vessel burst in his forehead. His vision went completely black.
"Get her out of here and keep her out." Bai Long stabbed Jiang Lang once more, the fifth blow. "She's making him more crazed than usual."
He had to save her. Had to get to her. The sound of rattling chains mixed with his gasping breaths as he struggled even harder.
"I'm sorry," Bai Long whispered again.
Finally, the sixth blow was delivered.
That was when all of Jiang Lang's strength drained away. The spirit quieted, retreating to the depths of his consciousness.
Done. It was done.
He lay on the bed, drenched in his own blood, unable to move or see. The pain didn't leave him, nor did the burning. No, they intensified, feeling more a part of him than his own skin. Warm liquid gurgled in his throat.
Luo Chen—he knew it was Luo Chen because he recognized the deceptively sweet scent of Death, he knelt beside him and clasped his hand. That meant his demise was near, so agonizingly near.
But for Jiang Lang, the true torment had yet to begin.
As part of his death-curse, he and Kuang Bao would spend the rest of the night burning in the pits of hell. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a cough emerged. More and more blood filled his throat, choking him.
"In the morning, you'll have a lot to explain, my friend," Luo Chen said, adding gently, "Die now. I'll guide your soul to the underworld, as is required—but this time you might actually prefer to stay there, eh, rather than deal with the trouble you've brought into our home."
"W-woman," Jiang Lang finally managed to say.
"Don't worry," Luo Chen said. Whatever questions he had, he kept to himself. "We won't harm her. She'll be yours to deal with in the morning."
"Untouched." The request was strange, Jiang Lang knew, because none of them had ever been possessive of a woman. Xu Ling, though… He wasn't quite sure what he wanted to do with her. He knew what he should do, and what he couldn't. Both mattered little just then. Because, more than anything, he knew that he didn't want to share her.
"Untouched," he insisted weakly when Luo Chen remained silent.
"Untouched," Luo Chen agreed at last.
The scent of flowers intensified. A heartbeat of time passed, and then Jiang Lang died.