Page 22

Seraphina

I wake to total darkness and an unfamiliar room. Even with the soft caress of silk sheets on my skin, it’s all too big and too much. Callum isn’t here, his absence making it even harder to deal with where I am. The faint smell of smoke clings to my skin and my clothes, a cruel reminder of the fire that just stole everything from me.

Unable to stay here, I slip off the bed, in search of a safer, smaller place with more familiar scents. A small sob tears from my throat as tears stream down my cheeks, my Omega guiding me. The smoke follows me as I rush into the hallway and dart up the stairs, Callum’s scent thickening the closer I get to the end of the hall. I need them so bad but I can’t seem to find my voice to call for them and I don’t know where my phone is.

Callum’s door is ajar, his bed unmade, his oakmoss scent so thick it’s like he’s still here. I step inside and breathe him in, my Omega settling a little. However, the scent I can’t stand is still here and I’m desperate to scrub it off and leave it behind.

I’m barely aware of what I’m doing as I find myself under the hot spray in the attached bathroom, scrubbing my skin raw with my fingernails. I don’t even bother lathering up the soap, just pouring it over my arms and down my chest as the water rains down on me. The frantic need to drown whoever was there grows until I’m whimpering for a relief I can’t find.

It feels like he is everywhere but I can’t touch him.

I scrub even harder until my skin is flushed pink, that scent giving way to the mint bodywash. I only stop when my fingers go numb, shutting off the shower and grabbing the towel hanging there to wrap around me. It’s full of Callum, my Omega still whining and needy for something small, dark, and contained. A place that’s just ours. That’s safe.

Padding back into Callum’s room, I search for somewhere to build but everything in this room is too bright. The sunlight spilling through the curtains reminds me of the blaze in my apartment and I wince, rushing toward his closet to escape. When I throw open the door, the darkness envelops me, drawing me in, a small space in the corner beneath his hanging shirts calling my name.

I walk inside and drop to my knees, frantically pulling clothes and socks and even fabrics from his hamper to fill my newest space. The tears fall harder as my Omega whines for me to finish and only when I’ve placed the last bit do I crawl inside and pull one of his shirts over my head to hide away from the world.

It’s not perfect but it smells like Callum, like home.