Queen of the Ashes

Chapter Eleven

Hyacinthus orientalis:
please forgive me
∗·• ♔ ♥ ♔ •·∗

It was the night before Christmas Eve Maze got the text. It was short and simple, yet the words crashed into the hollowness of her chest like bullets.

Mom is worse. Not sure if it's going to pass.

She could picture Ethan's red puffy eyes, stuffed nose, and wet flushed cheeks. She could picture him shaking, consumed by darkness, and then she could picture the bitch that just wouldn't give her son a break.

Maze didn't give any fucks about his mother -she despised her actually for making Ethan unnecessarily endure so much pain- but she knew Ethan would be miserable without her. Although her true nature scoffed at her, she couldn't hold back the desperation she felt, which caused her to appear outside the hospital with the literal key to life in her palm.

Her form was dark as she now allowed her hair to take on its natural raven black color, melting away her red curls. She pressed the cigarette against her lips and took a deep drag before she blew out a cloud of smoke, clenching her jaw. She stood leaned against a corner, back resting casually against a brick wall. She needed to think this through.

She had kept the white tattoo's power for about a week, each waking moment of every day she had contemplated whether to interfere with Ethan's private business or not. Uncertainty holding her back and away from Ethan and especially his mother. She was consumed by the need to hold on to her demonic nature, the fear of becoming a lovesick imbecile offering itself in her head countless amounts of times.

Was she really about to save a human just for him? A human?

A few months ago, she wouldn't even have considered it, rather scoffed at it, but now... here she had an unbreakable promise burning in her hand. If she followed through this, she knew the consequences would be severe, not only because she would be in debt to the black market (which was never an ideal situation to be in), but also because it would seal the fact she dreaded most of all: she cared.

She cared enough to literally go through hell. She cared enough to save a life. She cared enough to show she cared.

The word made her sick. Care.

She wasn't supposed to care about anything but shallow attraction, at the most: lust. She wasn't supposed to crave anything else. She didn't even know it was possible for her to crave anything else. She hated Ethan for making her so confused. For making all of these worrying thoughts swirl through her head all at once.

She fucking hated him. But it was only because he was about to force her into doing the unthinkable.

She scoffed before pushing herself off the wall. If she didn't care she would have turned around and returned the spell to the yellow-eyed demon. She wouldn't have looked back as all hope for Ethan and his mother slipped out of their grasp. She would have gone back to the club to find herself new victims and she would have devoured them all until she couldn't stomach any more. She would have cut herself out of his life. Long ago.

But she didn't. She couldn't.

With heavy steps she walked into the hospital. The smell of disinfectant hitting her nose like a slap to the olfaction. She kept her head high and gaze straight forward. She could feel people's eyes on her and decided to slip into a more appealing form, returning her hair into a much more soothing red. She allowed her eyes to turn softer and her face into a heart-shaped form as her height shrunk just a little.

With a lazy expression she slammed her hand on the counter, earning the receptionist's attention -who stared at her with wide brown eyes ready to pop out of her skull.