What do you know about how permission on doors works?
Well, the obvious. The owner has to grant their permission by weaving their essence through the door.
That’s not going to help right now.
I may have the power of Creation, but not her essence.
What else? What else?
I take a step back and place my hands on my hips as I glare at the door. The one single barrier keeping me from my men. Time is ticking down, and this shit right here will be what stands in my way.
My gaze cuts over to the second door, and I sneer.
I never should’ve walked through that threshold.
I’ve got half a mind to stomp in there and turn the whole fucking room into…
My attention jerks back to the guys’ door.
“Don’t command your power to block it. Command it to fill the space. Her power is an empty container. You’re going to fill it with your power.”
The advice Amick gave Yemi when we were infiltrating Seductions blares across my mind, and hope rises in my chest like a massive wave.
My palms tingle as my Creation gathers, warm and bright beneath my skin. I step forward, locking my focus on the door and the invisible power system woven into it. I canfeelit now that I know what to focus on.
The Goddess of Creation’s permission isn’t solid like a wall of brick.
It’s hollow like a bubble or…a container.
“Okay,” I murmur under my breath. “You got this.”
My Creation stays on the surface of my skin, just enough where her power recognizes the likeness.
Obliteration was always meant to provide breathing room for Creation.
Just the thought of the power has the back of my throat humming. I suck in a deep breath, and on my exhale, my Obliteration flows through my parted lips. The moment it makes contact, the Goddess of Creation’s power reacts.
It flickers—almost a flinch—and the air around the door warps. Pressure builds as if the space itself is trying to reject me.
I don’t relent. I push more.
My Obliteration pours out of me and devours her Creation from the inside out.
Her power doesn’t shatter. It simply…ceases. Piece by piece. Layer by layer.
Until there’s nothing left.
The pressure vanishes, and my hands slam flat against bare wood.
For a fleeting second.
Then a breeze blows past me as even the wood fades to nothing but ash in the air.
My soul surges from my chest, and my gasp has my eyes flying open. Everything within me shudders and my hands fall fast.
“Thayla.”
My name echoes through the space.
