Page 123 of Obsession

I see Silva is pacing, angry and red-faced, but, then again, he is always angry. Ryan stands with his biceps bulging from the tight grip on his ax, the goth girl, Elizabeth, beside him. They are very familiar with one another. Both look a little tense.

The remaining crowd has a different reaction. In dark cloaks, they turn to those beside them, whispering so vehemently that their cowls fall back, revealing pasty, excited faces.

My eyes return to Aris, seeking his response to this news, but he is just stroking my hair. Unconcerned. Unafraid. I realize, suddenly: there’s no need to worry the way that Silva is worrying.

I nuzzle against him, breathing him in, basking in the feel of his hand on my head. I almost groan when his fingertips scratch my scalp.

“Let them come,” says Aris distractedly.

Another pause, this one longer, and then the same, thin man says, “As you wish.”

“Clear the room,” he says. He picks up a strand of my hair, inspects it for a moment, then resumes petting me. “Except for Ryan. You stay.”

The behemoth grunts in acquiescence.

Soon, footsteps and the sound of shuffling bodies fill the room as Aris’ servants obey his order. Soon, it is just the three of us in the hall, Ryan closer to us now. Though he is massive, his presence does not penetrate the space that exists for me and Aris alone. He stands as still as a suit of armor, perpendicular to Aris’ throne.

A fire crackles in the corner of the room, its mantle laden with trinkets and offerings: human eyes in a jar of formaldehyde, rat skulls painted with an oily sheen, glistening red and black gems, old, rare coins. Knives with dried blood layered so thick it looks like rust.

“Why do you want them here?” I ask.

He sighs, but not in annoyance; he does not mind if I challenge him, so long as it is earnest and within reason. I have reason: Why allow enemies into his home? He can handle them with ease, but why allow them in at all? It interferes with our time together.

“How long has it been since we left this place?” he murmurs, sticking his fingers through the holes in my lace sleeve, stroking the skin beneath.

I shiver in delight, murmuring, “I don’t remember.”

“Mm. For a while now, I’ve been busy with you.” I hear a smile in his voice, one that makes me grin. “Having fun with you.”

“Lots of fun,” I agree.

“Because of that,” he continues with humor, “I’ve left the outside world alone.”

Time is a strange thing, one which largely evades my notice. Every day is the same, so it’s difficult to tell them apart. How long have I been here, I wonder, at peace with Aris? It’s almost impossible to say. Pointless, really, to consider.

“The humans of the world are curious about me,” he goes on. “Frightened. They want answers. Where have I been? What am I up to?”

I pause, wondering why he cares what they think.

“Humans are fickle and stupid. If I let them be any longer, they’ll do something drastic. Send armies. Explode my castle.” He continues stroking, playing with my sleeve. “And I like this castle. Don’t you?”

“Yes,” I tell him.

“So, you see, I will allow them to bother us, if only to remind them how scary I am,” says Aris. He burrows his face in my neck, and, like this, he does not seem so frightening.

His smirk grows; he likes that silly thought.

We resume touching one another. Most of what we do is touch, but it never gets old. It doesn’t sour. Even the smallest of touches, the pad of a finger on a wrist, lights me up like a Christmas tree, until I’m panting and desperate just from my hand being held.

I feel no shame; it feels so right.

The only time I question things—what am I doing here? Why do his servants look at me unkindly?—are the rare moments when I’m not with Aris. I don’t like those moments—when I am showering and I stare at tile blankly, when I see myself in the mirror and feel nothing at all.

Aris presses me close, kissing my neck. I crane my head to give him better access, and he smirks against my skin before licking a cool trail up my jugular. His teeth, sharper than a human’s, pleasurably scrape against my dermis.

I shift, so worked up that I’m in discomfort. I need release and don’t want to wait for this military unit. Aris explained why he wants to confront them, but the reasons are unimportant in comparison to my needs.

He nips at my ear. “Later, Mary.”

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