Page 32 of My Dark Obsession
Because no matter how much my mind screamed that this was all just too much, Elfyn and Elyas were more important.
Always.
Ten
‘Deadly Passion-Mortiferum Passion’
Amaya
We walked along the path until we reached huge iron gates, open for us to enter with stone pillars on each side and hauntingly well-crafted stone children atop them. They pulled at the skin of their faces, stretching the skin with their mouths open in a scream.
Through the gates led to an open graveyard, each stone perfectly polished and dated with Latin numerals. The earth around them was fresh with more moss scattered on the ground making it soft to walk upon. Each grave had a sprinkle of the deep purple Wisteria petals. It was obviously well looked after.
It was beautiful here.
Call me morbid but I loved a graveyard, to see the many lives that were here before now gone. To see howmany had accepted death's hand and given in to the coldness.
It was peaceful.
I brushed my fingers across the top of the headstones as we passed, and with each brush of my fingertips atop the stone, a vibrating tingle spread through my bones.
Since being told I was a witch just a few hours ago I had been wonderingwhy I hadn't had any magic, why I hadn't felt any buzz of power in my body.
But now, standing amongst the dead and breathing in the fresh air around us, I could sense it. It was thrumming through my veins and begging to be used.
This mountain was my home. I could feel the call of it. I swear I could hear the whispers in the wind, calling my name and welcoming me home.
Looking up from the dead's resting place I froze, Rí’s warm torso brushed my back as he stepped close behind me.
Fucking hell.
Stood before us was a huge gothic style castle. Its old stone was perfectly carved with intricate details and high arched windows. More of the screaming children were carved into the stone walls and archways. A set of large dark wooden doors sat dimly lit by floating black dripping candles in an archway. The moss gave way to stone as the trees around us thinned out.
The sound of crashing waves met my ears, and I looked around us for signs of the sea.
Rí gently pressed on my lower back with his hand, encouraging me to go further.
The warmth of his hand sent tingles to spread around the mark, creating an irritating itch.
I ignored it and carried on to the door.
Etched into the wood read, "Sub silentio custodire.”
“What does that mean?” I quietly asked Rí without turning around. I knew he was behind me.
“To keep under silence.” His deep voice echoed in the quiet.
It was then I realised that it had gone utterly silent. The wind still blew but there was no sound to it, no crashing waves, no birds or rustling trees.
There was no noise in my head. Nothing but utter silence.
My eyes widened. There was no noise in my head, no constant chattering of the voices telling me to hurt, to spill blood and seek revenge. No screaming for my boys.
Just silence.
My eyes fluttered shut, my heart slowed, and my hands unclenched at my sides.
Peace.
