SERAPHINA'S POV
I can't meet his eyes for some reason, unable to find the right words for this exact moment. I knew that at some point, especially given our current entanglement-or whatever this relationship is-I'd have to tell him.
There's no escaping it.
"How do I say this without sounding like I'm crazy?" I start, meeting his eyes.
He watches me cautiously, yet there's an air of understanding. It's as if no matter what I say, he'll accept it as the truth-no questions asked. Taking a deep breath and exhaling, I feel better, more secure, and ready.
His calming blue eyes remain my anchor.
"Something's been wrong with me; it actually got worse the day I found out I'd be attending Raven Wood Academy," I say, pausing to breathe.
He nods calmly, absentmindedly rubbing soft circles on the back of my palm.
"I don't know the right words for it. Sometimes it feels like an out-of-body experience; other times I can't control my actions. My body moves on its own, weird things happen. Sometimes it even feels like magic, and then I'm so convinced I'm crazy. So, I wanted to learn more about it," I add, pausing again.
Now comes the part about my betrayal.
"Kamila came with her offer, and I was tempted-a chance to find out what's wrong with me, to possibly fix this madness. And maybe also understand what's between us. It was wrong; I know I shouldn't have..."
"It's okay. Kamila has a way of getting inside your head. It takes years to build a resistance," he explains with an exhausted laugh.
He seems distant for a moment, probably recalling the numerous times he'd been through something similar. His words make me feel better, more understood.
Suddenly, I'm grateful for how far we've come - how easily we read our unspoken words and decode the subtle languages behind our every expression.
"Yeah, I should've known she was using me. The deal was-sleep with you and gain access to The Obsidian library. In my desperation, I accepted without really thinking it through, but I couldn't actually go through with it," I continue.
I remember the moment things took a turn for the worse, the feeling of losing my own consciousness, sliding to the back of my mind, being forced to sleep.
"Whatever it was, it took over again. My consciousness was thrown into a state of deep sleep, and I hurt you," I say, tracing the spot on his shoulder where the blade had cut into him.
I don't recall drawing blood, but a vague sensation remains-the feeling of driving the blade into his flesh, wedging it between his bones. The urge to hurt him lingers, and I'm disgusted with myself.
His eyebrows furrow; his understanding seems to stop here.
He obviously has something more to say but takes a moment to form the words.
"I think it was more than just something taking over you, Sera," he finally speaks his mind. He seems more confused than worried now, piecing everything together.
"Your eyes were different. Even the way you spoke to me-calling me Sinclair so formally. It was just like that time when you almost gutted me with a knife. For a second, I thought you really meant to hurt me."
"Of course not, I would never actually pull a knife on you," I swallow, unable to say anything else.
Even as I assure him, how can I be so sure? I mean, I'd almost killed him the last time.
Noticing my growing fear, the flicker of anxiety in my eyes, he presses on.
"What's going on, Sera? You can tell me."
I want to tell him, every single detail, but the words can't escape my lips.
"It's just... I don't know, it scares me too. I'm scared that I could stab you again."
"Will you?" he asks honestly.
I throw him a look, half-offended that he'd ask that but also understanding why he would. I'm a walking hazard at this point, after all.
Maybe even a deadly disaster waiting to happen.
"Look, it's fine. What happened back then wasn't your fault; clearly, that wasn't you. You have a good heart, Sera, and I know better than anyone that you'd never intentionally cause harm. But still, I'm worried about what this means for you - especially when there's no telling what might happen next. My father has always said, 'There's much to fear in the unknown, but that fear is a reminder to always be prepared for the worst.'" The wheels in his head are turning, and it's apparent in the thoughtful light in his eyes.
"I'm trying to figure it out myself, to understand it too."
"Did you get what you were looking for, the answers you wanted from The Obsidian library?"
I pause at the question, recalling more memories. I didn't want to use the card but ended up using it anyway and finding that book.
"Sort of, well, not really. I still don't fully understand what's going on. I found a book... but I'm kind of scared of going down that path. What if I find something I'm not ready for? What if... what if I'm cursed, or something even more barbaric?" My thoughts spiral, considering all the possible ways this could go wrong.
I don't want to find out I'm some sort of monster, and yet I don't want to hurt anyone anymore.
He draws a little closer, lifting m chin to make sure that I never look away from him - from the sincere depths of his eyes.
"Hey. Whatever it is, I'm here now. You don't have to do this alone anymore. If it's so horrible, I'll shield you from it with every breath I have. You have me now, darling."
Artemis takes my hand and kisses it gently, and my heart constricts painfully with emotions that fill it to the brim - so much so that my eyes water a little and all I feel is a fervent urge to hold him tight, hug him, till nothing else matters. Till he's mine forever.
"It didn't even hurt one bit though," he says with his familiar cocky smile, possibly to make me feel better.
I smile sadly, almost laughing too, but also remembering that Olivia told me how I pinned him to the floor with some kind of unimaginable strength I don't have.
I know it did hurt, but I play along.
"That's good."
"Whenever you figure something out, you can tell me. I won't judge you, regardless of how crazy it will sound," he offers.
I chuckle a bit before falling silent.
I'm tempted to tell him the full details, that I have an idea where all of this could possibly be stemming from. That I think I'm possibly being haunted by some ancient spirit tied to the Astria tribe, the natural enemy to his kind, especially his own family.
For some reason, I'm physically held by some mental constriction. I can't say the words, and every time I try to or think of saying them, something else comes to mind, fumbling the whole thing together - messing up my thought process and logic.
It's almost like whatever it is wants to keep Artemis specifically in the dark.
He leans forward and kisses me again, grounding and deliberate, and I let him, tasting his lips for the first time today, letting myself drown in his presence, his calming scent, his addictive warmth.
It's exactly where I want to be - in his arms.
A knock on the door pushes us apart, and we're both breathing hard, desperate for the air lacking in our lungs.
We stare at each other with a subtle hunger for seconds until he looks away toward the door, remembering someone knocked a second ago.
For a moment, I think about how badly I want him, like I've been starved for days and he's the only piece of meat hanging right in front of me.
I've never wanted anything, craved anything so badly. Kissing him only makes me want more, need more of him, so much that it hurts.
Every one of my senses knows nothing else but him.
It grows every second of the day. Every moment, I feel myself drawn closer and closer to the brink of obsessive madness, wanting him with me, beside me, in me.
Is this what it feels like to like someone, or am I just addicted?
It feels unhealthy, scary, dangerous, but I can't resist it.
His eyes shift back to me now, filled with just as much desire and fierce hunger. I know he feels every bit of what I feel, possibly even worse.
I know that I can't breathe or live again without him.
"I have to go back out there," he explains sadly.
My heart drops, but I manage a smile.
"It's fine, go."
His frown deepens, saddened by how easily I seem to let him go, unaware of the pain ripping through my chest right now.
But I don't want to be one of those clingy girls who makes her boyfriend her entire personality.
I want to be my own person and also want him to reach his full potential, to achieve everything he's always wanted for himself, to break free from the fears holding him back.
He pulls me in for another kiss, hungrier and more desperate than the first. My desire to let him go is thrown to the wind.
I kiss him hard, sucking on his lower lip and his tongue, swallowing all of him into myself.
He pulls away, kisses my forehead, and walks toward the door.
I'm saddened, but I let him leave. I'll see him later today, or tomorrow, or whenever he's less busy with what he has to do for the ceremony.
Regardless, I'll see him eventually.
Everything seems to have perfectly fallen into place. I'm grateful, but then again, at the back of my mind, I can't help but feel a subtle, ominous sensation hovering over me.
The past few days have been perfect... too perfect.
The dreams seem to have stopped, as have the voices and the occasional possessions. It's almost as if whatever is inside me is quiet, waiting to strike again at any moment.
I swallow, walking back to the mirror and lifting my shirt to look at the mark. I probably should have shown it to Artemis while explaining.
I probably will later.
It hurts less, but the vibrant, thick black lines have stuck to me like a tattoo.
And it's not going anywhere anytime soon.