Page 31 of Obsession

About it.

The attack on the Institute flashes through my mind, then Simon’s face at the bar. The terror, the panic, the pain. The deaths. Possessing Henry, kissing me with his body. Keeping secrets, stalking my dreams.

All of this, he calls “it.”

It feels as though there is something heavy on my shoulders, weighing them down. Soon, I can’t keep them bunched by my ears anymore and they fall as my breathing regulates.

I can’t respond. The words don’t come—or, better said, they form, but in fragments. A noun, then a verb, but they cannot be connected. They don’t make sense, even to me.

“Mary?”

My eyes pop open.

Somehow, that’s it. My name. That’s all it takes to unlock whatever was blocked, and it’s suddenly coming out of me, so obvious that it’s honestly stupid not to have said it before; the word should’ve been on the tip of my tongue the instant that I registered that it was him in this room—I should’ve been screaming it, yelling it, and I do, I am—

“Why?”

He stares back, meeting the challenge. “‘Why’ what?” He isn’t smiling and there’s nothing giving it away in his tone, but I know that he’s teasing me. “Care to elaborate?”

I almost snarl; I’ve never felt more animal. “You know what. Why did you go into him?”

For a second, I think that he’s going to continue goading, but he surprises me with an honest response. “I did it to punish our captors.” He adds sardonically, because he can’t help himself, “You do recall that they imprisoned us, Mary. Both of us.”

I splutter. “Don’t pretend like we’re—like—”

“Like what?”

“Like you care about me at all! You possessed Henry!”

“Yes, to punish our captors. As I said.”

“You didn’t have to hide inside of him while he… I mean…” Suddenly, I’m fumbling for words again, shoulders sinking lower, heartache rendering me mute. Finally, when I speak again, my voice is notably quieter. “Why did you stay hidden in Henry?”

“I did not reveal myself because I had things to do,” Aris says. There is no jest in his voice any longer.

“Things?”

“Yes. Things which Henry could not know about. I couldn’t tell you and risk that you would inform him.”

I sit on that for a moment. It makes sense, in a way. It could even be the truth. “And why would he let you go into him?” I ask. “Or did you even get his permission?”

“Oh, he wanted me.” His lips quirk. “He thought that he could control me.”

“Control you…” I blink. Silva said that the mages wanted to use Aris against Jaegen. Is that what Henry was trying to do? Filing the thoughts away for later, I refocus. “So you’re telling me that the only way for you to get revenge against the mages was by going into Henry? By having him date me for months?”

He pauses. “It took time to get things in order, and, as for why he pursued you, I didn’t tell him to do that.”

“So why would he…?”

“I thought of you,” he says, glancing at me and then away, as if embarrassed. My brow wrinkles; I can’t tell if this is rehearsed. “If his mind couldn’t handle that, if he thought the best way to deal with it was to seek you out, then that was his decision.”

“And you didn’t think to stop him?”

“Once the two of you were together, I will admit to enjoying it. I could touch the body we shared,” he says. “I could touch you, Mary. How can you think I would give that up?”

“Because you knew that I was falling in love with him,” I say furiously, “and you let him hurt me.”

His eyes narrow. Some emotion has finally shown: irritation. I should stop—be more careful with my words. He is used to his followers and their worship. They leave the room at the wave of a hand; they wouldn’t dare challenge him.

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