Page 89 of Possession

“I am capable of it,” he admits, lowering his head to rest it on top of my own. His hands are still exploring my back, traveling towards my chest, and my heart races. “But I don’t like to.”

“If you lied about that, you could be lying now,” I say slowly.

His exploration pauses, fingers flexing. “I am not.”

“I think that you did it for yourself,” I go on. “It had nothing to do with me—you just didn’t want to be trapped in my body.”

“There was that,” he admits, and the wind howls as he leans to speak directly in my ear. His breath is colder than ice. “But I saved you, Mary. That’s the truth.”

I wish he were gross. I wish that he smelled like mildew and decay and that proximity to him was less than desirable. I wish that it didn’t feel good being next to him, having his arms around me. I shouldn’t feel comfort, only disgust. And yet.

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I’m not done with you yet.”

The words carry a weight that I’m not prepared to handle. It’s suddenly an effort to stay standing; I have to lock my knees and bite down on my gums.

I feel like a leaf on the precipice of finally falling from its twig, swaying in a relentless gust of wind. I’m not sure how much more I can take. I know that this isn’t healthy for me; he isn’t good and I should shut this down, but I need answers, and I’m finally getting them.

“So, what?” I say, putting as much strength in my voice as I can muster. “You and Henry made some kind of deal?”

“Something like that,” says Aris, suddenly unwilling to share any more.

Maybe Henry will tell me. The thought makes my skin flush. Why does the thought of sharing this conversation with Henry… embarrass me?

“Where are you?” I ask.

There is a smile in his voice. “Everywhere.”

I push out of his arms, well aware that he’s letting me, and stumble back to glare at him. He merely stares, unimpressed.

“Enough of your games!” I exclaim. “Where are you? What are you planning?”

He doesn’t respond immediately, just lets his eyes roam over every detail of my body; he starts from the toes peeking from under my dress and slowly makes his way to my face, to my hair. My dream or not, he knows that he is in control here; he has all the time in the world.

Finally, he meets my gaze, and his stare alone is weighted enough to almost make me back down. I don’t think that he’s trying to intimidate me, but being his sole focus makes my hair stand on end.

“My plans don’t concern you,” he says. “In fact, I came to say that you won’t be hearing from me for some time.”

I consider this for a few seconds, picking his words apart. Something is planned, and he’s going somewhere. “If you’re going to pull a disappearing act, you don't need to say bye,” I finally say. “You could’ve just left me alone.”

His answering smile is thin. “I wouldn’t have wanted you to worry.”

I roll my eyes. “Worry? Seriously?”

“You’re the one asking me all of these questions, Mary.” He suddenly wraps his hands around my wrists, tugging on them to pull me closer to him. At first, I dig my heels into the earth, but the hard, rocky ground beneath begins to cut the soles of my feet. With a wince, I stumble closer, right into arms that begin to constrict, pulling me flesh against him.

The pressure isn’t painful; it might even feel nice, if not for the fear overriding my instincts. It feels like I’m sticking my arm in an alligator’s mouth.

Aris smells the top of my head, burrowing his fingers in my hair. He is so close that I can feel his heart beating. It’s too slow, like he’s only playing at a process his body doesn’t need.

“Sweet,” he murmurs absently, almost to himself, and starts stroking my bare arms. “You ask me where I am, what I want. Am I meant to believe that you only ask out of concern for your world?”

“W-why else would I?”

He smiles against my scalp. “You have already started to suspect it,” he murmurs.

“Suspect what?” Outranked, outmatched or not, I dare him to say it. I know what he’s implying, and it’s a vicious lie.

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