Page 136 of Obsession

“In return, I promise to stay by your side,” I say. “Wherever you go.”

“Forever?” he asks.

I pause.

This is not a simple request. People say the word forever all the time, promising to remain as partners. What we really mean is, for the rest of our lives. That isn’t how it works for Aris. If I am to stay with Aris, it is to be that way until the end of time.

“Forever,” I repeat.

Aris nods, and something slides into place. A bond. A band, bringing us together. My skin tingles like a current runs through me. For a single moment, it is unbearable and I almost gasp out, but Aris’ cold touch allows me to keep my reason. And then, the electricity is gone and I feel like myself again.

“I cannot use magic to create,” he tells me, “but I can transform. As you have been.”

Immortality. His hold tightens, and he nods.

“We are to remain together now, until the end of time. Ouroboros, as you say.”

This time, I nod. Silva lamented over the idea, but I feel nothing but calm as the news settles. Maybe I’ve been more affected than I thought by Nora and Aris altering my mind. Maybe I’ve gone truly insane.

But I don’t think so.

A new piece is sliding into place, and I am realizing: This is what Sem meant by biting down. This was the choice to be made, committing to him for an eternity. The thought feels… right, which could be further evidence that I’ve lost it, or a quiet trickle of approval from Sem, wherever she currently is in the universe.

Be clever. Be good.

“Which means there’s only one thing left to take care of,” Aris says. He pulls his hand out of my own, his back straightening. The way his jaw clicks, I know immediately what he means; there is only one thing that makes him react in such a way.

Jaegen.

Chapter thirty-three

The next day, Aris assembles his followers. Many have been transformed at this point, some so large and dripping acid and magma that we decide prudently to gather outdoors. When he announced this choice of venue, the cultists scrambled to move his throne and prepare a proper stage, but Aris has foregone formalities.

We stand on the same level as his followers. They bow before their god on the lawn, the lines of people so closely drawn together in their dark cowls that it looks like one black ocean. Even the giant monsters have robes fashioned on them.

I stand by Aris’ side in one of the lace dresses tailored for me, a red petticoat overtop, while Aris adorns a classic black suit. When passing others in the hall, some looks were shot my way. Though no one said anything outright, I think that they know I have my wits about me again. Maybe it’s obvious, revealed simply in how I hold myself, or perhaps Aris informed them. Either way, I’ve been receiving stares.

I don’t care what they think of me anymore. By Aris’ side, his consort and partner, created by a goddess of life, I don’t fear them—even the ones who glow with otherworldly power and strength, even the ones with an intense hatred in their eyes. Just as I’ve influenced Aris, he has influenced me, too, and it’s hard to reconcile the idea that any of them truly matter.

Last night, after coming to an understanding, Aris and I talked for a long time. About what we would do with Jaegen, and what he would do with his followers. About how we would tie up our stay on Earth and begin somewhere new.

“What makes you think that Sem wants Jaegen gone?” I’d asked.

“All he has ever done is stirred trouble, and not even the good kind. He offers nothing to the balance and cannot be reformed. What else could she want with him but his elimination?”

“And how are we supposed to do that?” My tone went wry when asking, “Take his memory, too?”

He shot me a look that told me exactly what he thought of my comment. “No,” he said, eyes flitting to my amulet. “Something different.”

I hold the necklace now, the octagonal, silver pendant that started this all. My fingers brush over the sharp edges as I have brushed over them thousands of times before. I’ve touched the edges to center me to this world, a zip of pain anchoring me to a current moment. I’ve brushed it lightly, for comfort. Now, I’m doing a mix of the two.

Aris’ plan makes sense, but I don’t know how I feel about seeing Henry again. Or Simon. Or Sem. But mostly Henry. I’ve shut that humiliating, pathetic chapter of my life; at this point, I don’t need, or want, closure. I don’t want to give him the chance to hurt me again, even as thick-skinned as I’ve become. Even sincerely doubting that he even could hurt me, why risk it?

Aris takes a step forward, pulling my attention. This single step is all it takes for his followers to shiver. Even with their eyes shut or fixed on the ground, they feel the air pulse as their master moves. I feel it, too—like diving into a deep pool, ears popping and straining from the pressure.

Ryan, the size of an SUV on his knees, plants his head against the soil. Eyes shut in serenity. Sometimes, I wish I could be as certain about anything as Ryan is about Aris.

Beside Ryan is my goth maid, Elizabeth, who dressed me this morning. Instead of black or white, as my outfits tend to switch between, I awoke this morning alone in the bedroom I shared with Aris. After talking late into the night, I don’t remember falling asleep, and it pained me to note that he hadn’t stayed.

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