Bound to Earth

34: Forking

As soon as Mirai was out of sight, I was up and sprinting to the kitchen sink. My hands were searing, the pain becoming unbearable. What was worse were the memories rising with the pain of my skin burning.

I shoved a washcloth in my mouth, biting down and turning on the facet. The washcloth muted my cries as the cool water poured over my searing skin.

Valentino wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed my temple. "You did good."

I spat the washcloth out, sniffling. The pain had dulled to a light throb. "You should be telling Mirai that. She's the one who managed to control the flames, not me."

"Do you have bandages, burn cream?" Alistar glanced at my hands, already taking in the severity.

"In the bathroom. Down the hall, first door to the right." My stomach churned, the smell of burnt flesh tearing memories from deep within my mind.

Valentino took the washcloth I clamped down on and ran it under the faucet. He gently led me by my elbows to the dining table with a calm steadiness I rarely saw from him. It was as if he could see where my thoughts had twisted to, how my hands didn't shake from pain.

Alistar teleported next to us, dropping an unnecessary abundance of medical supplies on the table. As for why he thought to bring a thermometer or superglue or duck tape, was beyond me. He probably grabbed whatever he could find in a haste, choosing to sort through it later.

"Why didn't you tell us you had a kid?" Malachi growled. He'd yanked the chair from the table, flipping it to straddle next to me. 

"Stop, Malachi," Alistar said quietly. An undertone of command had been laced in the words. It was the commanding tone Brynjar used between them.

I glared at him though the pain as Alistar held the cool washcloth to my hands. "Why does it matter? Does she change anything?" I wasn't getting rid of Mirai. She needed me as much as I needed her.

"Yes." His voice dropped, low and deep. Not in anger. No, he wasn't angry yet. But in pain, almost disappointment.

Alistar's hands paused, as shocked as me. But I was more pissed than anything. Pissed that it mattered. Pissed that he expected more from me and I hadn't delivered. "How? If that child changes the way you see me—"

"No. That is not what I mean." He cut me off. "Did you really not trust us enough to tell us? You didn't even tell us you were a fucking princess, or that your entire family are psychopaths looking to murder you."

"They are not my family." I flinched, Alistar spreading the burn cream across my hands. I barely noticed Brynjar walk out of the room, my focus on Malachi. Multitasking had never been my forte. "It wasn't that I didn't trust you, it was that I was trying to protect you."

"You gave us so much shit about coddling you by not bringing you on missions. Then you go and keep all this shit from us, and your excuse for it all is that you were trying to protect us. Bull shit, all of it." His emotions were at an all time high. Two months separated had made him extra cranky.

"Well what did you want me to do, huh? I thought I was doing what was best." I was hypocritical, at best, and an ultra fucked up bitch at worst. Maybe leaving was meant to torture myself more than protect them. I didn't know anymore. What was done, was done.

"I didn't want you to run away for almost two fucking months. That was the last thing I wanted you to do after seeing you practically tortured in front of me. You could've waited and fucking talked it out with us." He tugged at his dreadlocks, hurt shining in his silver eyes. That look tugged at my heart, my soul.

"What was I supposed to say? Hey guys, so I'm a demon, a fucking princess too, and a bunch of people are hunting me. Oh and, they're going to sacrifice me to my psychotic brothers, who also plan on sacrificing me to my father so he can escape from Hell and take over Earth." My eyes watered and I cursed myself. It all sounded so much more fucked up out loud.