Page 83 of Obsession

Aris is quiet beside me, calming, but we both tense the moment we step inside, registering the guest on our couch.

He takes up more than twice the space that I do—sprawled with spread legs, arms flung out like wings on the back of the couch. It isn’t until I see him, stretching and making himself at home, that I realize how this space has become sacred to me. My own. It bothers me that he’s where Aris and I sat minutes ago, in our own world. The crime film is still playing in the background.

“Why don’t you take a seat?” says Jaegen, tone is amicable. As it often is when dealing with him, I wonder if my consent is mandatory.

“Take a seat,” I murmur. The only open spot is next to Jaegen, and the very thought makes me feel like I’m covered in slime.

Aris dryly states, “You are taking up the entire couch.”

With an absent wave of his hand, two armchairs appear in front of the television. Aris and I cast looks at one another, our earlier disagreement put behind us at this development. Though Aris might not fully trust me, he trusts me more than Jaegen, and so forms an uneasy alliance.

Together, we take our seats next to one another, Jaegen watching us with a subdued smile.

The glimmer of his white teeth, which stand out starkly against dark skin, changes the environment. The air turns stifling, drier than I’m used to. It’s so hot that I feel it when I breathe, and it’s like the walls are compressing, compacting, pushing in on us. I’m not a claustrophobic person, but a string of nausea rushes through me, my mouth suddenly thick with saliva.

I do my best to mask my reaction, not wanting to alarm Aris, but my head spins. The room is dead silent, save the sounds of gunshots and battle cries; the climax of the film is playing out.

The main character has been shot, and his partner is beside him, yelling about how stupid he was to face the killer alone. Finally, Jaegen waves his hand, and the TV turns off.

Jaegen says, “You’re probably wondering why I’ve arrived unannounced.” His tone is light, but it does nothing to alleviate my tension. I know how moody he is. It matters little how much he is feeling now—give it a second, and the whole cabin will be debris.

“Yes,” I admit. I glance wearily at the walls, logicless in my worry that they will suddenly rush forward and crush me, then back at Jaegen. He is still smiling, at ease, but of course he is; he is in control.

Jaegen leans forward, forearms resting on thick thighs. There’s still some distance between us, but I’m hit with a flood of his scent: citrus and ginger. The smells used to be pleasant to me.

He glances over his shoulder, looking out the window. “I told you to stay inside, did I not?” he says idly.

I follow his gaze and try not to shiver at the sight of the dark woods. Where are we, really? The fireflies made me think of the U.S., but, like the ducks at the Institute, they might not be real—or at least not native. Are we in a place between portals? Did Jaegen construct these woods?

He doesn’t respond to my thoughts, and I shift in irritation. Every moment, his presence bothers me more. I’ve grown comfortable speaking freely and acting how I want in this cabin; now, I must tread carefully again. I resent him for that.

“You’ve been watching us closely,” remarks Aris. My focus goes to him, finding he’s leaning forward, too, angling himself in Jaegen’s direction. He’s in such a mood today that I worry he’ll charge at the god. “Is that out of concern for Mary’s safety, or have we entered into the territory of your own interests?”

Jaegen’s smile tightens, straining at the edges, and my skin begins to feel clammy. The back of my shirt sticks to me, wet against the chair; I hadn’t realized how profusely I’d begun to sweat.

“As most things, a little of both,” Jaegen says.

A presence enters my mind. There is no other way to explain the feeling other than to imagine wild flames bursting through a blackened and broken door. The fire thrusts itself inside, gobbling the oxygen, expanding, and soon it owns the room it invaded; the fire is the room.

I blink past the black spots in my vision and try my best to control my expressions. I don’t want Aris to know what’s happening.

He left because you refused to touch him, Jaegen notes casually, rifling through my memories. I can’t see what he’s seeing, but, when I go to recollect the past hour, I feel the sense of extreme heat. Your morals impact the integrity of your task.

Meaning?

If you cannot control him, he will escape. If he escapes, all of this will have been for naught. So. I feel a furnace, on my face and in my mind both. Control him.

You’re telling me to give up my body to placate him.

Exactly right.

Jaegen isn’t looking at me—engaged in a staring contest with his brother, and my jaw juts. He won’t even meet my eyes when telling me to whore myself.

What is the issue? demands Jaegen. Loudly. My head starts to ache from the force of his voice, and I’m so warm and the black spots are so frequent that I half believe I’ve already passed out. You want him. You have always wanted him.

The issue is that… It’s becoming harder to think. Words come from emotion alone; I’m too ill for logic, now. You know what the problem is!

“Explain yourself. Why can we not enter the forest? Why do you want us to stay inside?” Aris says.

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