Chapter 31 Malachar
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Malachar
The fire was spreading and I was fairly certain I was about to burn down my mate’s entire life.
I grabbed a kitchen towel and tried to smother the flames in the pan but the fabric caught fire immediately. Now I was holding a burning towel while the stove was also on fire and smoke was rapidly filling the apartment.
This was decidedly not going according to plan.
The chef had made cooking look so easy. Chop vegetables. Season meat. Apply heat. Simple. Except apparently there was a very important detail about not leaving things unattended that I had catastrophically failed to absorb.
I threw water at the flames because that seemed logical. Fire plus water equals no fire.
The fire hissed and grew larger.
Water was apparently the wrong choice. Why had no one mentioned this crucial information during my lessons? This seemed like vital knowledge that should have been covered in week one.
The flames were spreading across the counter now, licking at the wooden cabinets. The smoke was getting thicker. I could not let this expand or the entire bookstore downstairs would burn. Wen’s livelihood. Her life and her grandparent’s work. Everything this family had built for themselves.
I needed a bigger towel. A wet one. Something to contain this disaster I had created through my incompetence.
I was searching frantically through drawers when I heard her scream.
“Mal!”
I spun around and saw Wen running from the bathroom wrapped only in a towel. Her hair was dripping wet. Her feet were bare. She hit a wet patch on the floor where I had spilled water and started to slip.
I caught her before she hit the ground. Pulled her against my chest while the kitchen burned behind me and smoke alarms started screaming.
“What the hell happened?” She was coughing from the smoke. Her eyes were streaming. She looked at the flames and her face went pale. “Oh my god, the kitchen is on fire! How did you set the kitchen on fire?”
“I was attempting to cook dinner.” My voice came out strangled. “It went poorly.”
Panic crashed through me harder than any physical blow. She was here in danger because of me. Because I had wanted to prove I could take care of her and instead had nearly killed us both.
I tightened my grip and ran for the stairs. Took them two at a time while she protested and grabbed at my shoulders.
“What are you doing? Put me down!”
“Keeping you safe. That is my foremost priority.”
“The fire, Mal! The apartment!”
“You are more important than the apartment.”
I set her down by the front door of the bookstore and immediately turned to run back upstairs. I had to fix this. Had to contain the damage before it spread.
“Mal, no!” Her fear hit me through the bond, sharp and terrified and painful. “Come back here right now!”
I shook my head and kept moving toward the stairs. She was safe outside. That was what mattered.
“The fire extinguisher!” she yelled after me. Her voice was getting hoarse from the smoke. “Under the sink! If it hasn’t caught fire yet, there’s a fire extinguisher under the sink!”
Fire extinguisher. Of course. I didn’t know exactly what it was but the name was very self-explanatory and it made significantly more sense than trying to smother it with towels.
I ran back into the smoke-filled apartment. The visibility was terrible, my eyes were burning, and my lungs protested with every breath. The heat hit me in waves that made my skin prickle.
The flames had grown substantially in the thirty seconds I had been gone. They were climbing up the cabinets now. Reaching for the ceiling.
I jumped between the flames and yanked open the cabinet doors under the sink. Found a large red cylinder exactly where she said it would be.
I pulled it out and checked the instructions printed on the metal in small text that was difficult to read through the smoke. There was a pin. A hose. A lever. This seemed unnecessarily complicated for an emergency device.
I aimed the nozzle at the fire and pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
I tried again with more force. Still nothing. Checked the instructions more carefully while sweat poured down my face and the heat became almost unbearable. My hands were starting to blister from the temperature.
There was a pin at the top. Of course there was a safety mechanism. I yanked the pin out and tried again.
A massive chunk of white powder exploded out of the nozzle with such force I nearly dropped the entire thing.
Some of the flames died immediately under the onslaught. I aimed at the next section and pulled the trigger again. More powder sprayed out. More flames succumbed.
I worked systematically through the kitchen until every last flame was extinguished. The powder covered everything. The counters were blackened and ruined. The cabinets were charred. I stood there coughing violently and staring at what I had done. The guilt was overwhelming and suffocating.
I had almost ruined everything. Almost destroyed her home. Almost hurt her and our child because I was too proud to admit I did not know how to cook properly.
Maybe I did not deserve to be here with her. Maybe I was making everything worse by staying. Maybe she would be better off if I just returned to Ravenor and left her in peace.
The door banged open with enough force to rattle the hinges.
“Mal!” Wen ran inside, her feet were bare on the powder-covered floor. Relief flooded her face when she saw me standing there alive. She rushed across the room and threw herself at me. Her arms wrapped around my waist. Her whole body was shaking.
“I was so scared,” she said into my chest. Her voice was muffled and thick with tears. “I thought you were going to get hurt. I thought the ceiling might collapse. I thought you might not come out and I would lose you.”
“I am sorry.” My voice was rough from smoke and emotion. “I ruined your kitchen. I ruined dinner. I nearly burned down your entire building. I have destroyed everything.”
She shook her head violently and hugged me tighter. “I don’t care about the stupid kitchen. I was terrified something would happen to you. I was standing outside, imagining you trapped in here.”
She was crying. I could feel the tears soaking through what remained of my shirt.
My own eyes burned and not from smoke this time. Actual tears were gathering because the relief of having her safe in my arms was overwhelming. “I am here. I am safe. You are safe. That is all that matters.”
We stood there holding each other in the destroyed kitchen while powder settled around us like snow. Both of us shaking and crying. The terror of almost losing each other still fresh and raw.
She pulled back suddenly and grabbed my hands. Gasped when she saw the blisters covering my palms and fingers. “You’re burned. Oh god, Mal, you’re really hurt.”
“It is nothing. It will heal-”
“It’s not nothing! These are second-degree burns at least!” She tried to pull away to get a better look but I would not release her.
“Please. Just let me hold you for a moment longer.”
She relaxed against me and we stood there until our breathing calmed and the shaking stopped.
“You need to put on actual clothes,” I said finally. “Then we will go to Aurion’s place for the night. You cannot stay here with all this smoke. It is not safe for you or the baby.”
“What about you?”
“I will be fine. But I am carrying you there.” I refused to let her walk after the fright she had just endured. My wolf would not allow me to leave her side for even a moment and truthfully I did not want to either.
I carried her to the bedroom and turned my back to give her privacy. Stood there facing the wall while I listened to her moving around. Getting dressed. Packing a bag with essentials.
“You know you can leave the room, right?” she said. “I’m just changing clothes.”
“I cannot leave you alone right now. My wolf will not permit it.”
“Then at least sit down. You’re hurt.”
“I am fine standing.”
I heard her sigh but she did not argue further.
“Okay,” she said after a few minutes. “I’m ready.”
I turned and scooped her up again despite her immediate protests.
“Mal, I can walk! I’m pregnant, not injured!”
“I know you can walk. But I am carrying you anyway. I need to.”
She sighed but settled against my chest and let me carry her out of the ruined apartment, down the stairs and through the streets to Aurion’s building. People stared at us but I did not care.
His penthouse was empty when we arrived. He had given me a key days ago and told me I could use the space whenever needed while he was taking care of a few things in Noctherion.
I set Wen down gently on the expensive couch. “I should go buy us dinner from one of those restaurants you like.”
“I’m not hungry.” She looked exhausted. Her face was still pale.
I nodded and started to move toward the door to give her space but her hand shot out and caught mine.
“Stay,” she said. Her eyes were sad and pleading and full of an emotion that made my chest ache. “Please. Just stay with me.”
I sat down immediately. “Of course. Anything you need.”
She disappeared into Aurion’s bathroom and returned a few minutes later with a first aid kit.
The sight of it reminded me of those early days in her bookstore.
When everything had been simpler. When she had bandaged my wounds and I had fallen helplessly in love with her careful touch and sarcastic comments.
“Let me see your hands.”
I held them out obediently. The burns were bad but she cleaned them gently with antiseptic that stung. Wrapped them in bandages with the same care she had shown all those weeks ago.
“Does it hurt?” she asked.
“Not much. I have had worse.”
“That’s not reassuring.”
When she finished bandaging my hands, I moved to lie behind her on the bed. Pulled her back against my chest carefully. Wrapped my arms around her and our child growing inside her.
She turned in my arms and pressed herself fully against me. Her face buried in my neck. Her hands fisted in my shirt.