Page 56 of My Dark Obsession
“What’s this?”
“Each dragon from my realm provides their Mate with a slice of their scales ensconced into a jewel. So tha’ we are forever with them. If I’m no’ by ye’ side and ye’ are ever in danger. I will know where to find ye’”
Fucking. Swoon.
I tucked it safely between my breasts and waited for my beast to shift.
Nineteen
‘Sickness-Languor’
Cole
I should want her dead. The problem was, I didn’t, and the simple fact was, I was jealous. Jealous of her Darkness, of how she simply accepted its coil of blackness like it was second nature. I was jealous of the men that followed her around, of their freedom. Of their ability to just accept her as their Mate.
I’d never felt so suffocated; I wished for death with every fibre of my being. It would be better than the daily torture I endured to try and rid my soul of the black stain that tried to spread throughout my body with all its might.Once when I was a boy, I embraced the sick and found joy in its void.
I was wrong.
I was weak.
Hemade sure I knew that.
I could never accept the sickness.
I laid down on the cold metal table as the straps tightened around my wrists, ankles and neck. The last one felt tight enough to almost cut my airways off. Almost.
The orange candlelight above me flickered as the clinking of tools met my ears. My breathing turned shaky as I shut my eyes. I hated this part. I hated it all. But this part particularly. I clenched my teeth as the sharp blade sliced into my stomach.
“I can sense it darkening within you my boy, its poisoning you.” I peeked open my eyes as a bloody pair of gloves placed the scalpel on the tray next to us. The hand picked up a syringe full of clear liquid that filled me with nothing more than white hot pain before I disappeared into the cold darkness. I squeezed my eyes back shut; I hated myself for opening them.
Hated myself for the poison running in my veins. I hated him for constantly trying to help rid it from me.
But most of all, I hated Amaya. Hated her for accepting her own poison whilst I writhed in its cold painful grasp. Begging for the warmth my White witch power should but never provides.
“We are going to have to double our efforts.” His voice made my stomach churn as he injected into my sliced abdomen.
Burning spread through my body, hitting every inch of my skin and each nerve with its fire.
White witches shouldn’t have this darkness, this poison, this illness. That was why I hated Amaya. It didn't matter that my soul called to hers, that her bigpurple eyes held such pain that she tried to hide so obviously. It didn't matter that my mark that I had hidden by a magic lotion, itched with the need to be in her presence. I hated that her darkness coated her in the most glorious way, whereas mine smothered me.
Unbearable pain travelled across my body, burning me from the inside out. I hated that it was her face that flashed across my mind before I blacked out.
The darkness sickened me.
Ihated her.
Twenty
‘Secrets And Lies-Occulta Et Mendacium’
Amaya
I stared at the painting of Lady Samara, her cold expression forever frozen in place. What had put that empty look in her eyes? What had caused her final portrait to be painted in such coldness? Was she simply born with the emptiness as I was?
Was I born with the emptiness? Or had it simply started in the human realm?
There were so many questions, and I simply couldn’t stand not knowing the answers anymore. I left the portrait and went in search of Jerry. He usually greeted me the moment I stepped foot in the castle, but after Rí had flown off to fix the mess we had left the bar in, I entered a silent empty foyer.
