I turned him to ash.
Gods. That fucking ash filled my nose, my mouth.
I heave painfully and sprint out of the kitchen. I plow through my door, staggering the whole time as the room spins too fast. The firm lump in my throat shoves its way up as soon as I tumble through my bathroom.
The porcelain toilet holds my weight as I throw myself against it and empty out everything I’ve eaten in probably the last two days.
Fire licks its way through my throat and down my cheeks as I can’t hold back the tears that come from feeling my stomach turn inside out.
Even after there’s nothing left inside of me, I can’t stop gagging.
That disgusting noise turns into a scream as I wrap my fingers around the smooth, cold toilet seat.
I slam it up and down.
Repeatedly.
The material shatters in my hand and my scream turns guttural, unrestrained.
Strong arms wrap around me from behind and I fight his grip, but he holds me closer.
“Stop, little goddess. I’ve got you. We’ve got you.”
My head falls back against Kyzen’s chest as my sobs wreck me. Creed kneels in front of me, wiping away my tears as fast as they fall. My labored breathing slowly settles and everything in me eventually falls still.
“Destroying your bathroom isn’t going to change anything. It’s not going to change the power that sits inside of you.” His charcoal gray eyes fracture with his words.
“I don’t want it. I don’t want his power.”
“I know. I don’t want mine, but this is what we’ve got. We’ve got to accept it. All that matters now is what we do with it.”
A part of me shatters inside, same as whatever that was that just shattered behind his eyes when he stands and leaves my bathroom.
Kyzen’s fingers run patterns up and down my dust—ash—covered arms and I flinch. He lifts me without me having to say a word and walks us fully clothed into my shower.
My feet touch down on the cool tile just as hot water drenches me. The combination has a shiver racing through me, but I can’t make my body function.
All I can think about is the ash in my mouth.
Oh my gods, I kissed Creed.
I gag again. “Will you get my toothbrush, please?”
He nods and leans in to give me a kiss, but I twitch and turn to the side.
He doesn’t say anything, show any disappointment or anger. His thumb grazes across my cheek for a second, then he leaves my shower.
I tilt my head back, letting water fill my cheeks while fighting the dizziness trying to double my vision, then I start stripping my clothes off.
My underwear hits the tile as soon as he steps back in, with my toothbrush already covered in toothpaste.
His eyes widen for a split second before he fixes his face and passes it to me.
I’ve never scrubbed my mouth so hard.
I spit out a wad of foam that’s tinged in blood. I don’t know if it’s my gums now bleeding or some from the punch I took across my face, but that red has me cleaning my teeth again.
“Better?” he asks as I pass him the toothbrush back.
