Page 84 of Obsession

I can hardly follow the meaning of his words; I have to strain to concentrate, as if he’s speaking a foreign language and I must conjugate each verb and reorder it into my native tongue.

My brow furrows from effort as Aris goes on, “How long have you been watching us, and what have you seen?”

“You regard me with such contempt,” remarks Jaegen.

“How else should I regard you?”

“Gratitude, perhaps. We are friends.”

“Are we?”

Jaegen’s smile strains further, manners beginning to fray at the edges, and my heart picks up. I remember not too long ago, when his presence alone made it stop. “Do tell,” says Jaegen, “what is it that you want, Aris?”

You’d rather risk the end of the world than giving him, and yourself, pleasure? Jaegen continues in my mind. Are you truly that self-deprecating? You have won. Take your spoils.

“Answers. Why do we have to stay here?” asks Aris. “Why is she unsafe? And why are you watching us?”

My eyes shut as I try to focus. It smells like something is burning, but it could be me on fire. I can keep him content while not offering my body.

Obviously not, given what happened today.

I would’ve handled it, had you not interfered.

Interfered! I am cleaning up your mess.

The pressure in my skull multiplies, until it feels like it’s being split in half, and it’s not until it lessens that I realize I’ve slumped forward in my seat, grabbing my head and gasping.

The heat relents, the dark spots disappearing entirely, and I am myself again—just dizzy.

“Mary?” Aris demands. His voice is hardened from panic.“What’s happening to her?”

“How should I know?” Jaegen says. “Mortals are so fragile.”

My eyes open, taking in Aris’ worried expression, and Jaegen’s self-satisfied smirk. I realize then, with whatever smarts remain, that I’ve traded one cruel god for another.

Everything that Silva and Aris told me about Jaegen was true.

“You should leave,” I say coldly, basking in Jaegen’s outrage. I can watch for only a moment before the pain intensifies and something leaks down my nose and I think I’m about to pass out or die.

“You’re doing something to her,” Aris accuses, standing in anger. “She’s bleeding! You made her bleed.”

Jaegen also stands, the shimmer of his skin blinding me with the motion. I look away to rub the stars out of my eyes, the action slow like I’m moving through syrup.

Jaegen says, “They are fragile. These things happen.”

The golden god extends a hand down, placing it on my shoulder, and the air instantly turns frigid. Sharply, Jaegen looks at Aris.

If I thought Aris was upset with me earlier, if I thought I knew what rage looked like on this new form of him, I was completely wrong. His wrath is palpable, the air barbed and reeking of ozone, as if lightning just struck. The corners of the room have darkened, the shadows responsive, eager to reunite with their old master; they pulse and grow with every seething breath Aris takes.

“I agreed not to use my powers here,” says Aris. He manages, somehow, to speak calmly, even as his shoulders heave. “But whatever they are, I feel them now, and I will break my promise if you do not get away from her.”

Very, very slowly, Jaegen removes his hand.

The response is immediate: the pressure relents, the shadows retracting. Still, Aris’ eyes are tight and alert.

I’m in less pain, but I feel a new—this time natural—headache coming on. My body sags and feels close to shutting down from fear and stress. I didn’t wake up this morning prepared for any of this—Aris’ rebellion, Jaegen’s appearance, or this supernatural, alpha standoff.

Even if I had known, I couldn’t have prepared.

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