Thirteen's POV
His back's against the wall, his hand holding my dagger is pinned in place my by my free hand, and the gold dagger is pressed into his neck, drawing a thin line of blood.
"Go ahead," He taunts, his eyes blazing into mine. "Do it."
I press the dagger harder into his neck and he lets out a hiss of pain, but the determination in his eyes never fades. The determination that I won't kill him.
My hand is holding the dagger steady, my stance and grip preventing him from moving without slitting his own throat, so I chance a look around.
Jason's still on the ground, but he's moved so that he's sitting up with his back against the wall. Devin's holding his side and a line of blood soaking through the front of his shirt from the gash across his chest. Sam's still in the same place
