Chapter 27 Creed
Creed
Stillness surrounds us.
It’s as if the realm—and every revered creature spread across this meadow—is holding everything steady for her.
For us.
I level my breathing to match hers.
My gaze traces the dried tear streaks Kyzen missed on her cheeks. They mark her beautiful face and scar my heart.
My soul.
Witnessing death is easier than witnessing what I just did.
I don’t know if the chill cascading across her skin comes from the wet morning dew soaking the flattened grass beneath our knees, or from the intensity of her emotions finally easing.
Her soul tentatively releases the stranglehold it’s had on ours, and with that easing, I break the stillness.
My hand chases away the chill bumps on her legs, and her exhale breezes over my fingers.
The invisible pressure that had been burying me into the soil lifts from my shoulders as she runs her thumb back and forth over my knuckles.
My brothers react differently now than they have for the last…however long.
Amick had been still as a statue, staring at her petrified, as though she was about to slip away. Now he lays his free hand over their laced fingers, holding them together like he’s afraid she might pull away.
As her tremors fade, so do Riven’s. The fear seared into every line of his face relents when she wraps her hand around his wrist.
Her grip will always outweigh those new chains.
He’ll see that.
If he doesn’t already.
Kyzen…
His eyes dart to the side every few moments as he blinks his other half away. I noticed the void receding when he and I went to my room to discuss what he and Riven had done. It’s been creeping back since he crawled behind her.
He isn’t letting it win.
Gods, I’ve never been as appreciative of him as I am right now.
We aren’t his anchors—despite what he may believe.
He’s ours.
The calm explanations, the reassuring whispers, the constant contact. None of it was only for her. It was for the three of us as well.
He knew that for her to break however she needed to, he had to keep us steady. So he took the lead. Like he always does. Like we usually give him no choice but to.
It’s unfair of us to expect it, yet he does it without complaint because he knows we wouldn’t get it right.
Amick would’ve been unintentionally blunt, too informative.
Riven would’ve had to rely on his Harmony just to find the words. There’s no telling how that would’ve gone.
For him.
Or for her.
If it had been possible at all, drained as he is.
I wouldn’t have kept the anger out of my tone. I would’ve made her feel responsible, when that’s the furthest thing from the truth.
My power is unsettled right now.
It’s both pleased the God of Shadows is dead and disappointed I wasn’t the one to take his life. It wants the souls of everyone responsible for what happened to her.
A heavy exhale leaves Thayla, and she lets her eyes linger shut for what feels like an eternity. Her calves twitch as she draws her legs in, adjusting like she’s preparing to stand.
When her gaze meets mine, she doesn’t need to voice the request I see there.
I pivot until my back faces her and place her hand on my shoulder.
“Creed?” Kyzen asks quietly as though he’s afraid speaking too loud will shake the fragile air.
“Lift her. We’re going home.”
I don’t know who does what for her, and she doesn’t argue or complain. Once both her arms are slung over my shoulders, I grip under her thighs and stand.
She tucks her face into my neck and a shiver races down my spine from how cold her nose is.
I’m going to fuck Riven up for bringing her out here in shorts.
“Blanket,” I command.
Not a second later, a snap echoes through the air.
A plush cover is draped over us, and her fingers tangle in the material. The scent of Amick’s room engulfs me, making my nose twitch while she sighs.
With every step, her exhaustion bleeds into me, just as her pain did.
My power reacts.
My soul follows.
I leash them both. The last thing I want is for her to sense how thin the line I’m walking is. Has been.
It’s so fucking fragile my jaw locks.
My restraint snapped the second I saw that Dark God gripping her and that fucking collar around her neck.
The moment she was marched out our door, my brothers and I broke.
The instant we realized there was no saving her from what was coming, memories, old wounds and fears, rushed us.
We exploded. Destroyed the house as it struggled to repair what those fuckers had already ruined.
And then…we attacked.
I haven’t felt the full force of Derivius’s power in years, but we left him no choice. He unleashed it just to survive us. We were close to draining ourselves dry. If not for V, we would have.
Our power replenished as we paced that fucking white room. Over and over.
We didn’t know which door she was behind. We couldn’t hear anything but our breathing and the echo of our steps. Our control rebuilt itself at an agonizing pace until the middle door opened.
As one of her powers surrounded and protected her, she unleashed hell.
I’d take every punch she needs to throw.
Now. Always.
I’d rather feel her fists than what’s tearing through her.
The meadow gives way to trees, and my gaze sweeps every shadow, every hollow space. Rationally, I know no one else is here, but I still search.
Still hunt.
My grip tightens on her legs, and a breath slips out of me when she wiggles closer.
She’s okay with my touch.
Any other time, I’d cherish this silence. Not now.
This is the kind that feeds the souls. They whisper and remind me they’re waiting. There’s no silencing them. I can only distract them with a task.
And the only one I have is on my back.
She’s my priority.
She needs the quiet. No fixing. No more explanations. Just holding and enduring.
Relief flickers in my soul when I spot the house through the trees and then it dies just as fast. If she wants to stay in her room again…
I don’t think I can be locked away from her.
Neither can my brothers. They close in the moment we step out the tree line, their bodies pleading what their mouths won’t.
Don’t push us away, my endling.
My jaw locks, and my legs follow suit when Riven opens her door and steps aside. I don’t want to go in.
I go anyway. If she chooses this room, then I’ll stay too.
Her body slides down my back, and we all reach for her, hold her, until she finds her balance. When she squeezes my wrist, I let her go and turn to face her.
“I’d like a shower.”
The four of us share a glance at the uncertainty in her voice. She stares down at either her mismatched shoes or the way she’s trying to hide the stains on her shirt.
“Come on, little goddess. I got you.”
The farther she and Kyzen walk away from me, the stronger my soul coils tight. By the time they go into her closet then disappear into her bathroom, I’m on the verge of suffocating.
“Let’s get out of her space so she has some breathing room when she comes out.”
Amick heads toward her door, but instead of moseying his ass out, he holds it open and motions for Riven and me to come on.
I huff, casting a quick glance over at her bathroom, where I now hear the water running. It wouldn’t surprise me if she’ll be ready to go right to sleep the second she gets clean.
She needs to eat first.
I need to see her actually eat.
Decision made, I shrug Riven’s hand off my shoulder and stomp through her threshold. The air in my lungs turns to stone as I wait for the sound of her door clicking shut.
Before I fully enter the kitchen, I peer back, and everything within me relaxes.
My eyes catch Amick’s.
“If the door is open, I have permission to enter.”
He doesn’t need to explain shit to me.
I’m grateful.
The jars and porcelain containers clank around as I sling the icebox doors open and start grabbing shit out by the armfuls. Once I’m satisfied with my haul, I drop it all on the counter and move to get the kettle going.
Coffee is a definite.
Then what?
Her favorite breakfast foods are cheesy eggs, any fruit, any meat, muffins, diced potatoes…
Now that I think about it, I don’t think she’s ever complained about anything I’ve cooked.
I got time for it all.
The two bowls I grab out of the cabinet go spinning around as I toss them onto the counter. The high-pitched sound of whirling intensifies until the final frantic rattle, then they settle flat.
The absence of their racket sends the kitchen into silence aside from me clanging all the shit I need around.
I lose myself to the movement. The routine.
The knife slices through the meat with ease, leaving perfect pieces lying in wait to be seared.
The splash of cream has my flour dusting the counter. I lift the bowl, wipe underneath it, then stir.
Two perfect yolks drop into my muffin mix and I toss their shells into the compost bin without ever glancing in that direction.
I drag the next bowl closer to me and the motion becomes repetitive.
Crack. Toss.
Crack. Toss.
I rub my ear against my shoulder when a fucking soul-itching whistle continues to blare through my mind. My nose twitches and eyes go crossed as the noise intensifies.
“Creed.”
“What?”
My groan echoes between Riven and me when the egg in my hand shatters. The yolk and membrane seep through my fingers, and I grit my teeth as my fist finishes crushing the shell.
“The kettle’s about to vibrate off the stove.”
I snap my sneer from him.
That was the fucking noise.
The whistle in my mind instantly silences as I remove the kettle from the eye and drop the infuser of coffee grounds inside the rolling water.
“You good?”
I grunt at him as I march back to my bowl of unwhisked eggs. The pearly white shell floating on top makes my throat itch.
“If you groan so. Amick, come get me when breakfast is ready.”
Don’t say anything.
Breathe.
Just cook breakfast.
“You know what, Riven. I’m not fucking good.”
He spins back around, and I want to knock the small smile he’s giving me off his face.
“What can I do for you?”