Chapter twenty-six
After Silva leaves, I take my pill.
Almost immediately, it feels like there are textbooks on my eyes and keeping them open is insufferable, painful. I settle into bed, hardly feeling a sting when I lay on my back.
When I open my eyes again, I see Aris.
At first, I think I’m dreaming, since the room is dark and I can hardly make out his face, but it is assuredly him. I know this because of the shudder that races through me—an instinctive response to the sight of a predator, something that has no respect for lower creatures because… why should it?
He knows I am awake; he is watching me. Still, I don’t say anything. He can read my mind now, with both runes gone, but that gives him no advantage; I’m not thinking about anything but the throbbing, pulsing need to touch him.
His eyes are darker than the lightless room, and completely unreadable. No emotion is there.
I wonder why he hasn’t spoken, and then answer my own question: to speak would be to acknowledge what I did. It would reopen the wound, and he will not invite that pain into himself.
Finally, Aris steps forward, hesitating for only a moment before gripping my uninjured wrist. I don’t have time to ask what he’s doing before the room and the bed disappear, and I stumble onto dewy grass.
It’s twilight, the sky dimming, but the brightness is a shock to my eyes. As they adjust and I understand my surroundings, I glance at Aris for an explanation, but he is not looking at me, just at the disjointed building.
He’s taken me to the old manor, half consumed in the blaze set by Jaegen. Some wings have completely collapsed in on themselves—charred and black. Others look like they’ve been cleaved in two like a girl’s dollhouse or a body in an anatomy book. These rooms have been impacted by the elements, with leaves dusting the floors, lace curtains stained brown from mud and rain .
Other areas are enclosed, untouched by the blaze and perfectly preserved—connected halls and tunnels.
Aris suddenly jerks me forward; he hasn’t let go of me. This touch is different from how he used to touch me. Pinched like a vise, a slight increase in pressure would pulverize bone.
As he leads me across an overgrown lawn, I’m too busy keeping up with his long strides to consider his anger, or to fear my fate. It has hardly even occurred to me to try to struggle as he brings me toward one of the rooms split in half. A guest room, by the look of it.
He takes me in, a single step separating untamed ferns and soil from a fine floor covered in Turkish rugs. We walk through the room briskly and toward a connecting door. Before I can ask anything—where we’re going or what he’s doing—Aris opens it and shoves me inside.
I stumble onto the other side, almost slamming against a wall from the force of his push. With a gasp, I whirl, watching Aris step through the threshold calmly. He shuts the door behind him, and it disappears—or, better said, absorbs into the wall.
I lament on my exit disappearing, not liking where this is going, before turning to study where he’s taken me. It looks like… a hallway. An impossibly long hallway, as if two mirrors were held against one another to create a feedback loop of endless reflections. Beyond the many, many doors, all spaced about a foot apart, and its impossible length, the hall doesn’t seem too different from the other halls of the estate. There’s a long, endless red runner and dark sconces with a dim, yellow light—as infinite in number as the doors.
“Where are we?” I say, turning to find Aris watching me. His expression is largely empty, but there is a spark of dark humor in his eyes.
My voice is weak, almost a whine. I’ll be honest, I’m scared. I don’t know what version of Aris is confronting me.
“Where did you bring me?” I continue when he doesn’t respond.
He watches me for a moment longer, obviously enjoying my discomfort, before remarking, “I should have put you in a room. ”
At first, I feel a sense of victory at having prompted a response, until I note how… off he sounds. His tone has shifted—a change so minute I recognize it only because of how deeply he’s burrowed himself inside me. The walls of my subconscious are painted the color of his eyes.
I spare a glance at the many doors, then at the empty space on the wall where the exit used to be. “‘A room?’” I echo, something churning in my gut. “What is this place?”
“My pet project,” he says, striding past me.
After a pause, I scurry after him, a few steps behind. “What do you mean? What kind of project?” “It’s something like a zoo—I mentioned wanting to go to one.” He keeps walking, his back to me. “I’ve always been fascinated by the idea of a collection.”
I struggle to keep up with his quick pace while dissecting his words and their hidden meanings. Yes, he did want to go to a zoo. He was upset because he destroyed the world and was worried that there weren’t any animals left. What is he trying to say by bringing that up?
I’ve fallen out of practice playing verbal chess with Aris.
“So… there are animals here?”
“Something like that.”
I stop walking, irritated by his lack of answers. I’m afraid, yes, but not enough that I will bend. He’s angry—fine. Let him yell at me. Hit me. Destroy me. I welcome that, not this: following him around, begging for scraps like a dog.
He takes a few more steps before turning around. “You are frustrated,” he observes.
“Yes. I am . What is going on?”
Aris perks a brow. “Don’t you want to hear more about my project?”
I just stare. I don’t care about this stupid hallway. Of course, yes, I’m curious , but this is obviously some sort of distraction. I don’t know why he’s brought me here or what he’s trying to prove by doing it.
“What is it that you would like to discuss, Mary? ”
I grit my teeth, anger flushing through me. I’d throw a punch if my dominant arm wasn’t broken. He knows what I want. What’s the point in making me say it—so he can feel more powerful, to remind me how weak I am?
I should calm down. I should approach this more carefully, especially given Silva’s statements, but being treated like this again has torn me open. I feel like I’m bleeding all over the place.
“You know what I want to talk about. I betrayed you! I took your memory and we—” I cut myself off.
We were together. We were…
Aris says nothing for a moment, staring at me. Then, he sighs. “You’re all over the place.”
I’m all over the place? I feel like I’m about to explode.
“I’m trying to have a conversation with you!” I say, staring at him closely.
Does any part of him remain, the boy who gave me seashells and took me to a waterfall? Maybe the fact that he won’t answer is indicative that he is cruel again.
I glare, waiting for him to contradict my thoughts, but he says nothing. Fine. He doesn’t want to talk about what happened.
“Why are we here?” I demand, my left eye twitching. “And what is this place—really?”
“It is ‘really’ a zoo, but there are no animals here.”
He prowls closer, thrusting open the door closest to me. From where I’m standing, there is nothing but a black hole pulsing past the threshold, and I have the sense that if I were to fall forward, I would be falling forever.
“Come closer.”
I give him a look, thinking he might shove me into the dark. He just smiles.
No reassurance from this one.
Finally, I come to his side to take a closer look. And then, I am not seeing the hallway. I am not seeing through my eyes at all. I’m somewhere else— someone else.
He is going to fall.
He is going to fall, again.
His hands grow sweatier at the thought, his hold slippier on the metal pole. He tries to get a better grip but cannot.
He will fall .
Stupidly, he looks down. He already knows what’s down there, because it’s what is always down there. He looks anyway.
The pit of alligators—at least thirty of them—stare back at him rabidly. One notices his attention and jumps, missing his foot by inches, and he lets out a sob, clutching the pipe tighter.
But he is slipping, and he will fall.
The more he tries not to think of their sharp teeth, relentless appetite, and the pain that awaits, the more the thoughts overwhelm him. The panic makes him stupid, grip loosening. He doesn’t have much time.
Thirty seconds—tops.
He tries to prepare himself. He has done this before. Many times.
But the pain is always so unbearable.
Neverending.
Unavoidable.
Finally, inevitably, he falls.
The gators descend in a swarm, chomping, biting, hissing. He screams as his throat is ripped out, blood spraying the scales of his killers. They take his arm, biting from the shoulder down and pulling it off with a mighty yank. His leg next. His other arm.
When it’s too much, body giving out from strain, he feels a single second of peace. Death, claiming him.
And then he is again hanging from a pipe over a bat of alligators. Above the pipe is nothing—no ground or feature that the pipe is attached to , so there is no way to climb out . He can only hold on for as long as he can.
At the thought, his hands begin to perspire.
Soon, he will fall.
I stumble back from the doorway, looking between Aris and the abyss. He watches me, a little smile on his face.
That was a person in there. Aris has a person in there that he’s keeping suspended above a pit of alligators. Why?
“What was that?” I demand, moving toward him to shove him one-handed. He doesn’t move an inch, staring down at me. “What is this place?”
“I told you: a zoo.”
“A zoo for what, for people ? And you put them in their personal hell? ”
He stays silent, and his former words catch up to me.
Horror strikes, enough to silence me until anger overcomes it. “You said you should have put me in a room. You… considered making one of those for me?”
Aris scowls. “Yes, I considered it, and don’t look so astonished! You’ve been a bad girl.”
I stare in outrage. I’ve been bad? He’s torturing people! And he wanted to torture me!
“What is wrong with you?” I demand once I find the words, and his eyes narrow.
Good. Emotion. I need to be reminded that the person I love has been replaced by the monster he’s always been.
I demand, “Why did you bring me here?”
His lips curl, and he slams the door shut. “‘Why?’” he hisses. “ Why ? Why do you think , you stupid girl? It’s to show you how good you have it !”
I jump back, barely quick enough to avoid him as he barrels past to pace in a straight line. His movements are uncontrolled, unrestrained, his hands shaking with fury as he moves. I look away, staring wide-eyed at the wall, at a loss of what to do.
I’ve never seen him like this.
Slowly, I turn to watch him pace again. He can’t look at me; his focus is on the ground, with a snarl that betrays how unhinged he is. I don’t dare speak; I don’t dare risk him turning that rage my way.
But, of course, he hears this fear.
Without warning, Aris springs and grabs me. He shoves me against the wall, the bulk of his body trapping me as he towers over me. My back burns, but I don’t dare move; I couldn’t escape if I tried, and Aris solidifies the impossibility by shooting a hand out to grip my throat.
His fingers press in, light enough that I can still breathe, but they are fully wrapped around my windpipe.
He studies me. I look back with tears in my eyes. Speechless, the both of us.
Aris flexes his fingers. Strong, capable, and cold. He could kill me neatly, and he is upset enough that he might just do it.
My heart races faster and faster, pulse desperate under his hand, and, just when I think he has finally decided to end this game of ours once and for all, Aris simply pushes away with a grunt and begins to pace again.
I gape at his retreating figure, shocked and unsure how to react. My body is struggling to recover from the threat of death that just hung over me.
“Do you not realize how accommodating I have been?” he mutters darkly. He isn’t looking at me, gaze fixed on the ground as he moves like a trapped lion.
“‘ Accommodating ?’” I repeat, stupefied.
He whirls on me, his face contorted halfway between a laugh and a snarl. "Do you truly not understand my tolerance? I could wipe your mind. I could force you to worship me. But I haven't. Do you not see what I could do, what I should do?”
I just stare, and his volume rises to a shout. His hands raise from his sides, fingers curling like talons. “Tell me why I shouldn’t. Tell me why I shouldn’t make you a mindless slave or put you in a ‘hell!’ Tell me, Mary!”
My breath comes out in shudders. He is as rabid as those alligators. I am terrified, but still, not at a loss. He is feral because of love. He looks at me with equal parts rage and desperation, hating that he is turning to me, yet unwilling to look away.
I understand that better than anyone. I love him and hate him and, most troubling, these feelings are not divorced from one another.
"Because then, you'd have to live with the fact that I didn't choose you,” I say evenly. “That you lost."
He stares. His fingers tremble like they have a will of their own and wish to wrap back around my throat and squeeze until I stop speaking such cruel and honest things.
“Do you truly think,” begins Aris, “that I even care about you anymore?”
My eyes sting. The words themselves hurt, not to mention the way he says them, the way he looks at me while speaking them.
And yet.
He got me a doctor. Gauze for my burns .
He brought me here, to see this. To prove something to me.
Obviously, he still cares.
His jaw juts at my thoughts, but he does not contest them. In fact, they embolden him, guiding him to the truth: he is hurt, and I was the one who hurt him. For a moment, I am clinically fascinated that I have that effect on him.
Aris ceases his trembling, rage and sorrow fading from his expression as he regains his composure. He says, "You stole my memory."
“Aris—”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” he interrupts. Aris takes a few steps away, keeping his black eyes on me all the while. Distrustful.
“Aris,” I repeat, nervous as he continues to move back. “What are you doing?”
“I will give you time to explore.”
“What?”
“To learn, as I said, how good you have had it, and how tolerant I have been.”
“Wait, what ?” I say, running toward him—but as fast and hard as I sprint, I gain no ground and he is only moving farther away. Down the impossible hallway, past shut doors with terrors lurking inside.
I keep running, panic driving the useless motions, until he disappears entirely, swallowed by shadow.
“ Aris !”
Suddenly, the impossible hold keeping me in place breaks and I stumble to right myself before face-planting on the floor. Steadying, I look down the hall, turning in a full circle to get a better view.
There’s no sign of him.