Page 14 of Obsession

Take a breath.

The air reeks of disinfectant, maybe formaldehyde. A memory resurfaces—visiting my uncle’s hunting cabin, staring at a mounted deer head on the wall. How its eyes seemed to look back at me.

Breathe.

There’s something else in the air. Spores? Soil? Am I underground? I have the brief, hysterical thought that someone has buried and left me to suffocate, but I can’t entertain that; I have to get out.

With a sniffle, I open my eyes to reassess the situation, only to find that a thousand needles have suddenly appeared. Thin, thick, long, short, there is every kind of them. Each hovers a centimeter over every corner of my skin, and I realize then that I’m naked.

I hardly care, even as wind rushes past, chilling me. I can only think of the needles.

I feel the need to thrash as hard as I can, certain that I could make some kind of dent in the wire, but there’s no space to move—not without piercing my eyes.

I begin to shake with the effort to keep myself still, tears leaking down my cheeks as I take in the sharp edges a blink away.

“Please,” I say, and then repeat it. Louder, then louder again, until I’m screaming.

But no one is there, and am I imagining it or are the needles drawing closer?

And closer?

And, as the thousand of them prick me simultaneously, spinning and digging deep, I jerk awake with a scream. Sweating, panting, half aware of where I am, my vision blurs. I feel the lick of something coming up my throat and run to the bathroom just in time.

My vomit is dark, brackish, and I almost puke again at the sight. I flush it down and force myself not to consider the color further. On the bathroom floor, I put my energy toward processing what just happened.

That was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had. I wonder: Was it something from my burdened psyche, or brought by an unkind wizard?

I get to my feet after some time, opening the bathroom door to find Jaegen blocking the way, as if summoned by thought alone.

I jump back—What can I say? A dream like that is bound to make anyone jittery, and he came out of nowhere.

“Mary,” says Jaegen in his deep, earth-shaking voice. He’s shirtless again, and I’m face-to-face with his twenty-pack.

He steps aside to let me pass, watching as I walk shakily to the settee. The bed is more comfortable, but I avoid it for now. Proximity feels like it might draw me back into that hellscape.

“Jaegen,” I greet wearily. I want to be brave and show the indignance I feel that he left me for days on end, but my anger is overshadowed by my nightmare and his unexpected appearance.

“You could’ve knocked,” I manage. It is rude walking in on someone at… I glance at the clock. Four in the morning.

“How mundane,” he scoffs.

“What are you doing here?” I say back.

“I am ready to proceed,” he replies, then perks a brow, looking me over. “You are unsettled.”

“Like I said, you could’ve knocked.”

Jaegen’s mouth forms a thin line, and some survival instinct kicks in. I sit up until I am as erect as the hotel workers who greeted me at the door.

“Sorry,” I murmur, bowing my head.

There is a weighted, expectant pause, and I jump at the suddenness of a heavy hand on my shoulder.

“Peace. All is well. I am here to ask: Are you ready?”

I take a breath, relieved, nervous, and afraid. The air still smells of disinfectant, and I see needles in the corners of my vision.

Ready.

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