I pulled in a harsh breath. I had understood that the scars were from some kind of torture. But a hundred and fifty years? I was surprised that he had managed to stay alive for so long at that time. And he had never even let me get a hint that the scars were this painful, this old. I had never seen someone have scars like these. And seeing them on Azazel was a shock, and the reason even more shocking.
He did not wait for me to reply to him. As the rain started pouring down in quick, fat drops, he grabbed my hand and started running.
"Where are you going?" I shouted through the heavy sound of rain, "We need to go the other way!"
He did not respond. We both ran through the harsh downpour towards some bushes. His white shirt had clung to his body like a second skin, giving a clear visual o
