Page 134 of Obsession

A wave of helplessness and indecision overwhelms me. Every form of him, and every form of me, will seek the other out. Without memory, without power, without anything, we will go to each other; I know this. But whatever that is… love, obsession, it isn’t enough. Not when it’s a sick love, a bad love.

An ouroboric cycle of use and misuse.

I say nothing, firm in my decision, and Aris stands, shoulders shuddering, desperation replaced with anger. His face is pinched and self-conscious, and it’s clear that he wants me to feel every bit of the terror and embarrassment he experienced when he got to his knees to beg—an act that resulted, ultimately, in nothing.

“You were made for me, to placate me!” he demands. “You heard Sem—she told you to stay. What do you think happens if you leave? You’d be purposeless!”

“I don’t need purpose if I’m dead.”

“I’m not killing you, and you’re not—” Aris scoffs. He can’t even decide on a word to explain my rebellion. “You aren’t giving up. She did not design you for that, and so you can’t!”

I stare at him, frenzied, so upset that he isn’t even clever in manipulating me. I must be smart enough for the both of us.

“Don’t you see that you’ve played right into her hands?” I ask, and he stills. “She made me to tame you.”

“I have not been tamed!” he hisses instantly.

I give him a look, but pointedly don’t mention that he was just on his knees for me. “She showed up and planted the seed in your head to give my memory back. She created me to react this way to having my mind altered. Whatever her plan is, this entire conversation is just a part of it.”

His eyes narrow. “How does your rejecting me fit into her scheme?”

I don’t have an answer.

As of now, no, I don’t know what plans Sem has concocted, the same way that I can’t follow the schemes of her brothers. But I know who she is now, and that she has a stake in this. That’s something.

Aris peers at me coolly, unimpressed by my thoughts and behavior. The look in his eyes is enough to convince even a blind man that he will not let me go. I can’t quit the game; he will start another match, and another, and another, until I resign myself to finally play.

There is a reason the ouroboros is unending; it cannot bite, and it cannot let go. Naturally, these thoughts have occurred to the snake, but it cannot detach.

Why did Sem tell me I’d have a choice?

“If Sem is so omnipotent and intelligent, tell me, how are we meant to counter her?” asks Aris.

I turn away to take a seat on our bed. Minutes ago, I was desperate for him to touch me here, to rake my hands down his muscled back and pull him close while his eyes danced with mischief. Now, the room has never felt colder, and I have never felt more prudish.

Even when Aris follows and sits next to me, there is space between us. His scent does not entice me; his proximity does not lure me. I am too tired, and he is too angry that I will not accept him.

Despite our many acts against one another, I note that we are still sitting here together. When Aris asked me what we’d do, he said “we.” The mouth and the tail are, and always have been, part of the same snake.

“It would help to know what she wants,” I comment. I’ve no idea what else to do but talk to him at this point, and the words flood out.

“Peace, most likely,” says Aris.

“So she wants you to stop destroying things.”

“And yet, she came here and provoked me,” he mentions thoughtfully, and I glance at him, bringing my legs up to wrap my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees. “I don’t think that she wants me to stop altogether. Sem respects balance, as do I; Order and Chaos work together.”

Turning to him, I ask, “What does she want, then?”

“For me to stay in line,” he begins slowly. “That is where you come in: my moral, pestering compass. She created you to make me understand, and perhaps respect, the sanctity of life. But then, why make you and then disappear? Why fake her death?”

We both sit in silence, until I say, “She made me, but how was she supposed to make you interact with me? You’d never listen to her outright. If you learned that she made something to try to control you, you’d kill it immediately. Someone else had to intervene.”

Aris’ ebony eyes flit to my own, narrowing as he catches my train of thought. “Jaegen.”

“She let Jaegen think that he killed her and let him use her magic. That’s how you ended up trapped in me—he gave the Grand Mage the spell for the amulet.”

“Then, the amulet began to malfunction,” Aris continues. There is a knowing glint in his eyes now, as though he has already reached the conclusion I’m still working toward, but he does not cut to the chase.

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