Page 13 of My Dark Obsession

‘Deadly Passion-Mortiferum Passion’

Amaya

We walked along the path until we reached huge iron gates, open for us to enter with stone pillars on each side and hauntingly well-crafted stone children atop them. They pulled at the skin of their faces, stretching the skin with their mouths open in a scream.

Through the gates led to an open graveyard, each stone perfectly polished and dated with Latin numerals.

The earth around them was fresh with more moss scattered on the ground making it soft to walk upon.

Each grave had a sprinkle of the deep purple Wisteria petals. It was obviously well looked after.

It was beautiful here.

Call me morbid but I loved a graveyard, to see the many lives that were here before now gone. To see how many had accepted death's hand and given in to the coldness.

It was peaceful.

I brushed my fingers across the top of the headstones as we passed, and with each brush of my fingertips atop the stone, a vibrating tingle spread through my bones.

Since being told I was a witch just a few hours ago I had been wonderingwhy I hadn't had any magic, why I hadn't felt any buzz of power in my body.

But now, standing amongst the dead and breathing in the fresh air around us, I could sense it. It was thrumming through my veins and begging to be used.

This mountain was my home. I could feel the call of it. I swear I could hear the whispers in the wind, calling my name and welcoming me home.

Looking up from the dead's resting place I froze, Rí’s warm torso brushed my back as he stepped close behind me.

Fucking hell.

Stood before us was a huge gothic style castle.

Its old stone was perfectly carved with intricate details and high arched windows.

More of the screaming children were carved into the stone walls and archways.

A set of large dark wooden doors sat dimly lit by floating black dripping candles in an archway.

The moss gave way to stone as the trees around us thinned out.

The sound of crashing waves met my ears, and I looked around us for signs of the sea.

Rí gently pressed on my lower back with his hand, encouraging me to go further.

The warmth of his hand sent tingles to spread around the mark, creating an irritating itch.

I ignored it and carried on to the door.

Etched into the wood read, " Sub silentio custodire.”

“What does that mean?” I quietly asked Rí without turning around. I knew he was behind me.

“To keep under silence.” His deep voice echoed in the quiet.

It was then I realised that it had gone utterly silent. The wind still blew but there was no sound to it, no crashing waves, no birds or rustling trees.

There was no noise in my head. Nothing but utter silence.

My eyes widened. There was no noise in my head, no constant chattering of the voices telling me to hurt, to spill blood and seek revenge. No screaming for my boys.

Just silence.

My eyes fluttered shut, my heart slowed, and my hands unclenched at my sides.

Peace.

The sudden whoosh of air and sound penetrating my ears made me flinch back against Rí. His hands settled on my shoulders as all sound resumed, the wind, the waves. My damn noisy mind.

The double doors swung open of their own accord. Darkness greeted us for a moment, before candles burst into life and the foyer lit up in a warm glow.

Holy fuck this was actually a castle.

“Ah, there you are my Lady.” Jerry the ghost appeared bowing low.

“Jesus–please call me Amaya. I’m not a Lady." That title would never stick, and I would never answer to it.

His moustache jiggled but he didn't reply.

I walked to the wall where paintings of women all looking vaguely similar sat in stunning black dresses.

Their long black hair was either straight like mine or held a wave or curly spindles.

They all wore a necklace with one black jewel nestled between their breasts.

Looking closer I noticed that a small glow of purple could be seen in the jewel. Purple like each of their eyes.

Every single one of the women in the paintings held features similar to each other, their dark hair, pale skin and full lips. But it was their eyes that stood out. Purple gazes stared out as if looking directly at me.

Dark Witches.

“Your ancestors my L–my Darkness.” The ghost's eye twitched beneath his tiny spectacles.

“Not that either.” I raised my brow at Rí as he stifled his chuckle.

“Tell me about them, please.” I asked.

“Each Dark Witch born is female, their magic pure and strong. You all came from the same witch, the first ever Dark Witch, Lady Samara.” He glided to a larger painting further down the wall, this one held above the biggest fireplace I had ever seen, its stone yet again perfectly polished.

Holy shit.

Lady Samara. I looked just like her. Our pin straight long hair and pale plump lips, our noses, our flat expressionless faces. If I didn't know better, I would have said someone had painted me and put it up there.

The cold empty look in her purple eyes sent a shiver down my spine.

Her soul had been empty. Cold and barren. I recognised that look in my own gaze.

Rí must have assumed my shiver was from the cold as he waved his hand towards the fireplace and started the flames. I preferred the cold, always had but I actually enjoyed the heat it created on my cold skin.

“Lady Samara discovered Wisteria, and along with it, portals to the other realms. Where she went on to meet her four Circle Mates. She is the only supernatural to have ever had four within their Circle.”

Shock had me gaping at Jerry. She discovered Wisteria. I was a descendant of someone who discovered the entire realm.

If I was part of a line of powerful purebred witches, how had I landed up in the human realm, weak with no magic and beaten daily by a pathetic human?

“Why was I in the human realm? Why wasn't I with the Dark Witches to begin with?” I had to know, I needed to know.

Rí’s hand rested upon my shoulders once more. I didn't shake him off, which surprised us both.

“Why, you were with them at first of course, until your third birthday. Then you were taken to the human realm. But I’m afraid that is all I know.

All I was allowed to know. Rightfully so of course.

” He bowed low once more before sweeping his arm to the side where a winding stone staircase led down somewhere cold and dark.

“Please, your suite awaits where you can settle in with your Mate.”

All he was allowed to know? I was three and with the Dark Witches? Was I with my mother? Why had I no memory of this? Nothing at all. Not even a hint. I gritted my teeth as my head began to throb once more.

It had been an incredibly long couple of days. My stomach cramped in hunger, and I realised that Rí and I hadn't eaten since the soup.

I frowned at him and asked why he hadn’t eaten.

He tilted his head; red eyes glowing in the candlelight and mussed his hair. “If my Mate won’t eat then nor shall I.”

Okay, there it was again. That word. ‘Mate.’ It infuriated me. I had never actually agreed to be his mate. Not once. And he and everyone else was throwing it about as if it had been accepted already.

I couldn't help snapping, “stop saying that. Mate. I never said I would be your mate.”

Jerry stood still, his glow still and unwavering with his arm still swept to the side.

Rí leered down at me and stepped right into my space, forcing me to crane my neck up at him.

“Ye’ are my Mate. End of. No discussion needed.

Now, do as the nice ghost said and go to ye’ suite.

” His eyes blazed bright and heated, his jaw ticked, and I could have sworn his teeth looked slightly sharper.

Something was seriously wrong with me. Like seriously. Because why did I find that hot? Why oh why did my core heat and my thighs clench at his assertive tone?

I kept my mouth shut so as to not embarrass myself and stomped off down the dark staircase.

We entered a large room, with floor to ceiling arched windows with the view of a dark sea smashing its waves against the rock around us.

The fucking castle was built into the side of the mountain.

My mouth dropped open as I took in the sight before me.

A bed so large it could hold six large people easily.

The four posts held thick black drapes that held silver threading.

The deep wooden headboard had a circle carved into the wood, with winding ropes linking at the top.

Another stone fireplace with a crackling fire and two plush armchairs sat in front.

Right in front of the huge windows was a small table and a loveseat.

Candles were lit everywhere, every surface they could rest on, the wooden dresser and wardrobe, the shelves and bedside tables.

Candles hung from a black stained-glass chandelier and somehow provided no dripping wax.

“Wow,” I breathed.

Jerry bowed once more before poofing from the room. Leaving us alone and heated.

A hand slid around the back of my neck, gripped it and pulled my head back. Red narrowed eyes stared down at me. Sliding his hand round to the front of my neck he gripped it tightly. His hand was so large, his fingers met at the back.

I could breathe, but not as freely. My mouth dried as my eyes grew heavy.

I said nothing.

His chest expanded as he inhaled deep, before releasing in a shuddering breath. His eyes closed as his head leaned down and inhaled again.

“Fuck, I can smell ye’, smell ye’ want for me Wee One.” He growled, the vibration of his voice causing me to pant. I was needy. I was hungry for something I hadn't had before.

I wasn't naive. I was a grown woman. I just hadn’t allowed myself to want this before. But I was the new Amaya, right? I was the Dark Witch and could take what I wanted.

And I wanted this.

I placed my hand on his hard chest, then slowly ran it down to his stomach and leaned into his grip around my throat. Cutting off my air completely. My eyes closed and I licked my dry lips. My chest burned; lungs searched for air.