Fighting with Fire #2 ✔

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑𝟎 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨

"Do you want to talk about it?" Jason finally asked me the unavoidable question, though discreetly, when we got back to the ranch — apparently my dad had caved and let us all stay together.

"I need an iron jar," I muttered to myself, holding my t-shirt closer to my chest; holding her closer.

"Theo..." Jason followed me into the kitchen as I frantically began searching for an iron jar.

The rest of the pack had gone to their rooms or elsewhere — elsewhere away from me. I didn't know where Thea or my dad were. The pack mentioned it to me, I just didn't pay much attention.

"Theo... What if — well, what if she doesn't come back?" Jason asked hesitantly, shifting awkwardly as I searched through the empty kitchen cupboards.

"I can't think like that." I rushed out, avoiding getting the thought stuck in my head. "I won't think like that."

"Theo..." Jason sighed. "Theo, man, just listen to me a sec, okay?"

Continuing to search the cupboards, I let out a slight growl, "Not right now, Jason."

"Theo!" He banged his hand firmly on the kitchen island. "Look at me!"

I turned and looked at him, my fists clenched; I want to be left alone.

"You're dirty, hungry, tired and in need of some medical attention. If you—"

"I'll heal," I grumbled at him, struggling to maintain eye contact with him, my eyes flicking everywhere around the room except him.

"If I help you find an iron jar, will you get some rest?" He offered, making a compromise.

Knowing my chances of getting rest were minimal, I nodded stiffly. "You check the rest of the house, and I'll see if there's anything down in the hut by the lake."

I left before he could say another word.

The overwhelming grief that I felt upon entering the hut where she had been staying was utterly indescribable and unlike anything I'd ever felt before — even when the pack was missing. This was different, stronger somehow.

It got hard to breathe as I pushed her messy piles of clothes aside, her scent filling my nose and I had to hold back a sob. She was still gone, regardless of whether she would come back or not.

Gone, gone, gone.

Alone, alone, alone.

"Why did you leave me?" I choke out, my voice breaking (shut up) as my emotions engulfed me.

Her words echoed around my head — "I love you. I always have and I always will. Whether I come back or not, I will never stop loving you."

On my hands and knees in her hut, I pushed past her clothes to the side, before my fingers brushed against a cold metal at the back of a cupboard. I pulled it out and it was an iron jar, the perfect size.

"Did you plan on this?" I asked the silence, as I carefully poured Ember's ashes into the extremely conveniently available iron jar — the dark grey particles trickling out of my hands and filling the jar. "Did you plan on leaving me?

I clenched my shaking hands into tight fists, my body curling over on itself as I struggled to contain the anger and pain that was quickly bubbling to the surface, threatening to overflow.

My claws sliced into my palms, the blood quickly seeping out from my skin as I let out a choked sob. I thought my anchor was the pack now that I had them again, but it must've shifted back to Ember once she came here — and now she was gone.