Chapter seventeen
Aris follows me around the cabin as I explore. The fridge is full, the cupboards stocked with cans and imperishables, drawers filled with cooking utensils. Everything we could possibly need has been provided: dish soap in a gallon container, trash bags, paper towels in bulk. The bathroom, a narrow space with a design reminiscent of the ‘70s, has several bottles of shampoo and conditioner, toilet paper, and toothbrushes and toothpaste. There is a washer and dryer with detergent and stain remover placed neatly beside a laundry basket. The bedroom sheets are folded tight and smell clean, the dresser drawers full of underwear, socks, pants, and pajamas. Shirts and dresses are hung in the wardrobe, all in my size. In the living room is a bookshelf filled with classic literature, atlases, and dictionaries, with board games beside them and films on discs below that.
We will run out of supplies eventually, of course, and I wonder what will happen then. Will Jaegen return? Will the house magically restock itself?
Running through all of this, I take a seat on the couch. Aris follows my lead, sitting on the other end with an intense, attentive gaze.
“Why do you keep looking at me?”
He looks away as if chastised, and I sigh; my tone was too sharp. I have no idea what to do with him. He is Aris, but… not? Does he know his powers, his strength? As I considered before, would he hurt me—even accidentally?
I should be gentler, but it’s been a long night. I try to search for the sense of victory I felt earlier, but it’s notably absent.
“Will you answer my questions now, Mary?”
He asked so politely, in such an un-Aris-like manner that I’m taken aback. I blink as I try to compose an answer. Be gentle, I remind myself. Wouldn’t want to make him evil again.
“Yes,” I say, and he sits up in startled delight. I have to give it to him: he’s been patient. He obviously doesn’t like Jaegen, but Aris followed him willingly because I gave the go-ahead.
He came here. For me .
The thought tugs at something in my chest.
“I wanted to know, are you still cold?”
I shake my head, surprised that’s the first thing he asked. “It’s warmer here,” I say, some shock leaking into my voice.
“Good.” Aris pauses. “I am wondering as well… Who was with us just now?”
“Jaegen.”
His eyes narrow at the name, a shadow passing over his face. He used to hate me saying it—has the dislike persisted, like muscle memory?
“I don’t trust him,” he says, mouth twisted in distaste.
I take a quick look around the room, dumbly expecting Jaegen to materialize. When the air doesn’t shimmer and the cabin doesn’t fall apart, I quietly say, “Me either.”
His head tilts to the side, and he sits up straighter, eyes flicking around as he processes. “Why did we go with him, then?” asks Aris finally. He sounds frustrated that he can’t figure this out on his own.
“We had to.”
His lips twist to the side. “He said that you were not safe there,” says Aris.
“That’s true.”
“He also said that you were planning to abandon me.” He looks at me closely. “Did you want to leave me in the woods?”
I pause, wondering if I should lie or not, but I take too long deliberating. Unfortunately, sometimes not answering—either not quickly enough or not at all—is a response in and of itself. Aris’s shoulders drop; he seems to have learned this somewhere along the way.
“Why?” he asks quietly.
“I thought that…” I pay close attention to my words, as if speaking with a fae. His face has betrayed suspicion once or twice, making me think his uncanny ability to catch lies has passed on. “I thought that if you came with me, I might get hurt.”
“Why?”
I don’t know if this is the best time to explain that he’s an all-powerful god who could rip me to shreds with half a thought. Or maybe I should lay that out first, so he knows to be careful with me ?
“You are strong,” I finally say. Again, my words are selected carefully. “And I didn’t know how you would react. Honestly, I still don’t.”
“You thought I would hurt you.” He jerks back, shaking his head. That line between his brows, just above the bridge of his nose, is back. “Because I’m sick…? You said something happened to my memory, that I’m sick.”
I nod, and Aris leans forward, pressing, “And we knew each other before, when I wasn’t sick?”
Another nod.
He pauses, squinting as he thinks. It’s interesting how open his face is, every emotion free for the world to see. Part of me feels he’s playing a part, but there’s a softness in his eyes that Aris couldn’t replicate, because he would never allow fragility.
“Did I hurt you before?” he asks.
The question takes me aback. For one, why does he care? For another, of all the things to ask, that’s what’s most important?
He’s strange, like this. Unpredictable, same as he was before, but in an entirely different way.
Once I manage my surprise, I consider the question; it’s a tough one. I know what he means—he’s talking about physical pain, and I can’t think of a time when Arisstruck me. However, my adrenaline is fading, and I feel the aches from where he pressed into me on the bed.
And, there are many other ways to hurt people.
Aris once more gathers my answer from silence, setting his mouth in a grim line as his eyes cast over my face. This worry is unlike him. He’s always so sure of himself, ten steps ahead. Never caring about others—not his followers, not me.
Why do I matter now? In his mind, we’ve just met.
“You said that no one could ever know me. What does that mean?”
“These are hard questions.”
“You said that you would answer them,” he pushes. “And should I not know who I am?”
I don’t respond for a moment. I have to be careful here. The magic worked, but could telling him something reverse it? Then again, hiding things, dodging his questions, that would make him suspicious. I’m meant to keep him here, subdued. I can’t have him turning against me.
I sigh. “Before you were sick, you were secretive. You kept to yourself, and the parts of yourself that you showed to people…” I pause. “Well, it was hard to know what parts were real sometimes, that’s all.”
He looks as unsatisfied with my answer as I felt saying it. “Neither of us knows me, then,” surmises Aris.
“Something like that.”
Again, ungratified, Aris’ lips press together. I watch him carefully and wait for him to act out. But his hands are not clenched; to his credit, it looks like he’s managing his displeasure.
“Do you know where we are?” he asks. Interestingly, his voice does not betray his frustration.
I keep staring at him. I find it curious that he’s abandoned his previous train of thought, and that he’s being so polite and cooperative. “A cabin,” I say softly.
“But where is this cabin?”
I think about the fireflies outside. I read somewhere that the bugs are native to the United States, so maybe Jaegen has taken me home. Still, it’s a big country, and I could be wrong.
“I’m not sure,” I admit.
“Where were we before?”
Finally, an easy question. “Denmark. It’s a country in Europe.”
His face clears slightly at the receipt of a clear, honest answer, but it isn’t enough. Aris, at his core, is insatiable. He asks next, “Why were we there?”
“You wanted to go.”
“Hm. How long will we stay here?”
It’s worth remarking on, how he says the word “we.” I don’t even have to prompt it; he’s attached himself to me so quickly. I can’t decide if I find it comforting or unsettling. It’s a good thing, in terms of keeping him trapped, but it worries me, too. What happens when we inevitably separate?
“Until it’s safe again, I guess.”
“You said that I’m strong,” says Aris with sudden determination. He angles himself towards me, pulling a leg onto the couch, only inches from mine. It wouldn’t take much for us to touch. “If you are in danger, I can make things safe for you.”
“Do you remember how?” I ask cautiously.
He pauses, then shakes his head with frustration. “No, but I will learn.”
Oh, I hope not.
It’s concerning that he wants to be strong. Already, he seeks knowledge and power.
“Look, since we’re going to be here for… some time,” I start slowly, “let’s set some ground rules.”
“Rules,” he repeats. “Like what?”
“Well, firstly, no murdering people. We don’t murder people, all right?”
I stare at him pointedly, waiting for him to agree, but he just stares back. “Are you implying that I have murdered people before?” he asks.
“It’s come up once or twice.”
His brows stayed furrowed. “You know some things about me,” he accuses without heat. “You will tell me more later.”
Is he ordering me?
“Will I?” I say.
Aris notes the edge in my voice and amends, with some uncertainty, “You will tell me more… if you want to?”
Better.
I nod. “We’ll talk later. But, for now, we need rules. So, again, first and foremost: no murder.
He shrugs. “That is an easy rule.”
One would think.
“You agree, then?” I press, staring hard until he nods. “Great. Now, along with that, there’s no maiming or torturing or impaling or anything of the sort.”
He gives me a look like I’m the crazy one. “I promise not to do any of those things,” says Aris, then pauses. “But what if the need arises?”
“What do you mean?” I say, alarmed.
“You said that you are unsafe. What if the danger comes here and someone tries to hurt you?”
“That won’t happen. ”
“What if ?” he says, force in his voice now. “Should I not fight?”
He won’t let up on this; I can already tell. I should be more concerned that the one thing he’s standing his ground on is murder, but this is all hypothetical.
I sigh. “Fine. Killing in self-defense or defense of others is okay. But only then .”
“I accept this condition.” He nods. “What other rules do you have?”
“No lies. And no tricks.”
“All right.” His agreement is easy, but his brows are pinched, head tilting at the hard edge in my voice.
If Aris were himself, this is the rule he’d fight me the most on. How else will we pass the time, Mary? Don’t you want to have fun, Mary?
His phantom mocking pierces the moment like a knife. I look at the new Aris, trying to focus on his open expression and simpleness. The duality of his cruel past versus this genuine form jars me. It’s difficult to remember that they’re different, especially when he looks exactly the same.
I take a moment to think, then say, “And we don’t leave the house without telling the other.”
Aris’ brows move in a way that makes me think he might put up another fight, but he just nods. Then, I say quickly, “Also, you can’t use your powers or abilities.”
I’d been hoping that saying it faster would make him confuse the words. Unfortunately, he is sharp.
“What are my powers and abilities? And why shouldn’t I be able to use them?”
“Because… you might hurt me,” I say. He seemed alarmed when Jaegen mentioned that I was unsafe; for whatever reason, he cares about my wellbeing. I don’t know how long that will last, but it controls him well enough for now.
“I see.” His eyes narrow as he digests this, and he nods. “I accept the term. But will you tell me, then, what I am able to do?”
“Lots of things, but mostly, stuff that destroys.”
“Destroys…”
“Let’s move on,” I say quickly, before he gains interest in testing the concept .
Luckily, Aris follows my direction, and we soon have a list of practical rules. By the time we finish, my head is hurting from Aris’ constant barrage of whys and hows , but I feel too nervous to go to sleep. Who’s to say he’ll stick to the rules?
I hardly knew him before, and I know him even less now. I don’t know what to expect.
“You are not responding as quickly as before,” Aris notes. “Why?”
Busted.
“I’m tired.”
“Exhaustion,” he remarks, brows furrowing. Confused is almost his default expression. “I don’t feel that.”
“You don’t get tired,” I say since he is staring, wanting an explanation, “but humans have to sleep.”
“You should sleep, then,” he replies sensibly, “if you are tired. Why haven’t you?”
“I’m worried about you.” I already know what he’ll ask next and quickly explain, “Because… you’re sick. I don’t know if you’ll follow the rules.”
“I said that I would,” he sniffs with some offense, then shakes his head. “I don’t understand. How is that a reason not to sleep?”
“It just is,” I say, exhaustion creeping into my tone. I’m too tired to debate with him. Too tired to explain.
This has been a night for the books. A few hours ago, I was in bed with Aris. Kissing him, touching him. Having my clothes ripped off of me. Had he not touched my rune, who knows how far we would’ve gone?
And, as he learned of my treachery, eyes dark with hate, I was prepared to die. I was aware that my life was over. I stared back at him just as hard, desperate to soak in victory before annihilation, wanting him to feel the fullness of my betrayal.
And then, as suddenly as we were kissing, as suddenly as he learned my secret, he was gone. Erased, and replaced. And now we’re in some random cabin for the foreseeable future.
It’s more than one person can be expected to take in one night alone; I need reset.
Aris’ expression softens as he studies me. “Go to bed,” he says quietly .
I nod and stand, walking to the bathroom. It takes a moment to notice Aris trailing behind, and I don’t acknowledge him until he tries to follow me in like a dog.
I stick out an arm to keep him behind the door frame. “Give me a moment?” I say awkwardly.
His lips purse as I close the door on him.
I don’t know how long he’ll wait, so I do my nightly routine hastily. When I open the door, feeling fresher, I find that Aris hasn’t moved an inch.
He smiles at my reappearance, trailing after me again as I go to my new bedroom. He follows me to the bed, but doesn’t get in next to me. Luckily. I don’t know how he would’ve handled my rejection.
“How long will you sleep for?” he asks while I pull the sheets back.
“I don’t know.” I kick off my shoes, still muddy from the storm Aris summoned in Denmark. “Most times, it’s around eight hours.”
“ Eight ?” Aris repeats, flabbergasted. “What am I supposed to do in the meantime?”
“There are books?”
He lets out a huff, becoming even more indignant when I motion for him to turn around while changing into pajamas, tossing my period-piece nightwear to the ground. Though I can’t see his face with his back turned, I can practically feel him fuming.
“Sorry, Aris. We can talk tomorrow, though, all right?”
Aris faces me again, eyes fixed on every move I make. Even now, brain-damaged as he is, he’s like a predator. He doesn’t know why he’s watching me so intently, having forgotten that he enjoys learning his prey to further the hunt.
I swallow nervously. I can’t forget who— what —he really is. Not for an instant.
Stiffly, aware of the domesticated god standing over me, I settle into bed, the sheets cool and unfamiliar against my skin. I wonder how long it will take to get used to this place, how long we’ll stay here. What comes next. The thoughts make me even wearier.
“Will you sleep now?”
“Yes. ”
Aris sighs and drags his feet while moving to the doorway. He has the same look from earlier, when he was pounding me with questions; clearly, there’s something he wants to say. I summon the rest of my energy to sit up in bed, wary, unable to anticipate what he will ask next.
“You said that I’m not human,” he says slowly, and I nod my tired encouragement. “What am I, then?”
Again with the hard questions.
“I don’t really know,” I say.
I’ve wanted to hurt him for some time now, but the look on his face just claws at my insides. I have to physically restrain myself from reaching for him, to try to comfort him.
Aris is quiet, lingering, as if indeed sensing that I’m holding myself back. He stands there, but I give nothing.
Finally, Aris silently shuts the door behind him.
When I wake, my fingers go to rub my amulet, the pointed sides grounding me in my new reality. I’ve won; my plan succeeded, and I betrayed Aris. I’m in a new place, a cabin where I have to babysit new-Aris—not an ideal situation, but I’ll get used to it. I shift at my thoughts, and spot Aris next to me in bed.
I scramble back, almost toppling to the floor until I catch myself on the headboard. “What the hell! What are you doing ?”
“Are you angry?” he asks, something vulnerable on his face.
“No.” I say, and force myself to take a deep breath. Gentle, Mary. Be gentle with him. “ No . I’m just… surprised . I wasn’t expecting you to be there.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” he says with a frown. “I read all of the books, and soon there was nothing left. So I came in here. I like watching you. What is it like to sleep?”
I take a moment to consider his words. He read everything in the cabin? And he’s been watching me—for how long? How long was he next to me? Did he touch me? My hand goes to my chest, resting above a heart I fruitlessly order to slow.
“To sleep?” I finally manage.
“Yes. What is it like? ”
“Um… I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I take another breath. I don’t know the time, but it’s too early to be interacting with Aris. “It’s like turning your brain off,” I say. “Sometimes you don’t even know that you’ve done it until you’re waking up. And sometimes, there are dreams.”
“What are dreams like?”
“It’s different for everyone, and it’s different every time you go to sleep. Sometimes, people don’t dream at all, or they don’t remember what they see. Other times, it’s like… flashes. Things that happened or could have happened, or sometimes impossible things.”
“Did you dream last night?” asks Aris as I get out of bed. “What do you normally dream of?”
The barrage of questions makes me sigh, and I immediately regret the deep inhalation. My ribs hurt . I pad to the mirror and lift my shirt to find a band of bruises across my torso, directly beneath my breasts.
“What is that?” he asks, coming up from behind. In the mirror, his face is drawn into familiar lines of confusion.
It’s from you, but you don’t remember. You pressed me against the bed last night, when I thought you would kill me. You held me so tight that I couldn’t even breathe and the slightest press of your hand would’ve shattered bone.
“An incident with a tree from a few days ago,” I tell him, dropping my shirt to leave the room. It isn’t exactly untrue.
His voice is incredulous. “Days ago? Those bruises are fresh.”
Oh, so now he knows things.
“Bodies are weird,” I say.
For some reason, I don’t want to tell him the truth. It would prove that he hurt me like I claimed, making me look honest and trustworthy. Further, it might instill a sense of guilt and make him more loyal; he might want to prove himself to spite his past actions. I’m supposed to want those things, to manipulate him further, but…
He’s like a child. And I’ve already got him where I want him. There’s no need for overkill .
I walk to the kitchen to make breakfast while he follows along. Pulling out produce and eggs from the fridge, his lips stay pressed together so firmly that his nose scrunches. He doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push either.
“You said that you read all the books,” I mention while ruffling through the cupboard for a pan. It’ll take me some time to get used to a new kitchen.
“Yes.”
Suddenly, I’m hyper-aware of his presence behind me, obvious from the emanating cold. And, the pleasure humming under my skin. Now that I know what it’s like to touch him and have him close, it’s almost unbearable not being able to reach for him.
“Are you cold?” he asks as I shiver, and he lets out a confused noise when I shake my head.
The corner of his bicep almost brushes my ear as he raises an arm to open the cupboard, and I still, terrified to even breathe for fear of making skin-to-skin contact. Because if we touch, what if I want more? What then?
Last night was incredible… before he wanted to kill me, that is. When we were in each others’ arms, trapped in a lust-filled haze, nothing existed but me and him. His hardness, the heat of my core, the promise of fulfillment.
Unaware of how his proximity affects me, Aris pulls down the exact type of skillet I wanted for my eggs, saying, “You shouldn’t be reaching like that if your ribs are hurt.”
I accept the pan slowly, turning to put some distance between us. Relief rushes through me with every centimeter gained. “How’d you know where it was?” I ask to distract myself.
“I reorganized last night.”
My grip adjusts on the handle, sexual nerves now overridden with regular nerves. If Aris did all of this in one night—reading books, reorganizing the kitchen, watching me —I have no idea how I’m going to keep him entertained for an extended period of time.
Unsettled and unsure of what else to do, I start cooking.
Aris watches me like I’m a culinary expert. His eyes are fixed on my every move, head tilted as he notes and memorizes the exact amount of salt and pepper I put into the pan. Though the interest is childlike and innocent, his eyes are sharp, intelligent; he learns quickly. It’s a reminder that he’ll soon grow bored of this place. He’ll want to leave. Move on.
I have no way of forcing him to stay.
When I finish, my mood has soured. I do my best to hide while making my plate, leaving leftovers in the pan. As I turn to find a place to sit, I notice Aris pulling out a plate for himself, which he piles the rest of the eggs on.
“What?” he says, noticing my shock.
“Uh… It’s just, you don’t normally eat.”
Aris blinks. “Why wouldn’t I? You’re eating.”
I don’t have a good answer, so I just hand him a fork and go into the living room. He takes a seat next to me on the couch, eyeing as I take a bite. Slowly and astutely, Aris mirrors my movements.
He’s doing a fine job until he gets to the part of chewing and swallowing. I’ve already taken my second bite by the time I notice that he’s crammed his mouth full.
Maybe he doesn’t know how to…?
“Like this,” I say, and take a comically noticeable swallow.
His brows furrow, and he copies the movement, immediately wincing. “I do not like that,” remarks Aris, setting his plate down.
I try not to laugh, unsure if it will make him self-conscious, but I can’t help my smile as I continue eating my eggs. Now, Aris no longer has his food to mess with and his entire focus is on me again. After a few bites, his gaze feels particularly probing, reminding me of the heated moments from last night.
My fork abruptly clatters back on the plate. “Let’s watch something! Did you see any movies last night?”
Aris just shakes his head, and I approach the bookshelf, taking inventory of the disks: a few thrillers, rom-coms, and a history piece. My hands pause over one of the romance movies. It’s the same one Aris and I watched in our cell.
Is this Jaegen’s idea of a joke—some sick reminder that I’m as trapped here as I was with the mages, or is it just a coincidence ?
I shove the disk away and randomly select another to bring to Aris on the couch. “See if you like this,” I say. “You can read the back for the synopsis.”
He glances at the blurb on the disk for half of a second, then back at me, the information retained. “How do I know what I like?” he asks.
“Well,” I say quietly, trying to shove my guilt aside. I erased his interests from him; I took them away. But I did the right thing. His interests were homicide and destroying everyone on Earth.
“Well?”
“Well, we can just watch them all.”
“Really?” he asks, and I nod. Aris smiles, holding up the disk I gave him. “Let’s start with this one, then.”
“Sure.”
I go to insert the disk, motioning him to watch so he can learn a new way to pass time at night. I show him how to operate the VCR and turn on the television, explaining a few buttons and menu selections, and, soon enough, the movie is ready to be played. By now, my food has cooled and we’ve returned to the couch, with Aris buzzing with excitement next to me.
I can’t help but smile, remarking, “You used to like movies.”
He glances at me, pleasantly surprised. “I thought that you didn’t know me well.”
The opening credits roll, a camera panning over a city with skyscrapers and cars speeding across a bridge. It’s raining, with a soft instrumental in the back; the combination makes me slightly emotional.
“I knew you some,” I say.