Possession (Aris Duology Book 1) by Lauren Evers

Author:Lauren Evers [Evers, Lauren]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-30T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter fourteen

By the time he’s finished, I’ve been silent for some time now. Thinking. Everything he said seems possible, though my knowledge of magic is rudimentary. It could work, couldn’t it?

They want to go through with the removal as soon as possible—and I should, too, given that I just lost a month of my life.

So why don’t I?

Why is there a pit in my stomach?

It doesn’t make sense, I finally say.

What doesn’t?

That you’re just… going.

How is that confusing?

I don’t understand that you’re willing to. I thought I was… that I’ve been… I look for the right way to put it without sounding vulnerable, but I can’t. I’ve been yours. At least, I thought that.

You always will be.

The statement is fact. The sky is blue, the grass is green, and I belong to Aris. That’s what makes this confusing.

But you’re giving me up?

I think back to the Grand Mage’s proposal to work with Aris and maybe put him in a different body; Aris adamantly refused. He told me that he’d never go, that he’d never leave. Is that why this feels like a surprise, like a borderline betrayal?

Maybe childishly, I almost feel like I’m being broken up with. What makes it worse is how suddenly it’s come. Aris has had time to reflect and arrive at this decision; I haven’t. I’m being steamrolled. But why am I surprised? This is how it’s always been: Aris makes a choice, oftentimes a bad one, and I have to pick up the slack.

Mary, you will die if I stay.

It’s not you, it’s me. Maybe I am getting dumped.

I take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm myself. I’m being irrational—I know that. I shouldn’t be reacting this way. This is a good thing! He’s right; with the way things are now, he’s killing me. And with him gone, I might have a long, regular life. I don’t know how that would work, but it’s something to figure out along the way.

He just… took me aback, that’s all. If it’d been the two of us who found whatever book or relic that could move him, we would’ve arrived at that decision together, and it would’ve been fine. It’s the fact that the choice is being made for me—maybe that’s why I’m bothered. They could’ve at least asked or consulted me in some way. They could’ve waited for my return to make a concrete decision.

Part of me wants to, quite petulantly, refuse to participate, to say that I refuse the transfer. But am I really willing to die for my ego? I have the most to gain, and to lose from this.

Where would you even go? I ask.

That is none of your concern.

My hurt briefly overwhelms me. None of my concern? So, you’re just going to disappear, never to be seen again?

Isn’t this what you wanted?

Since when do you care about what I want?

His irritation starts to snowball into something that might send me away for another month, even unwittingly. Careful, Mary. You are beginning to sound ungrateful.

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