Page 9 of My Dark Obsession

‘Hatred Grows-Odium Credcit’

Amaya

Rí ran his hands through his hair before releasing a long-drawn-out sigh. He looked shocked yet not surprised. He picked up the crate and offered me his free hand.

I ignored it.

Still I waited for an explanation.

“Come, we can visit the White library. Maybe there is a book on ye’re birth. Before the war, each birth was recorded.”

So he was just going to ignore what just happened?

“Why did the same thing happen with Cole as it did with you?” I asked flatly.

What was with this man and never fully answering me. I could see by the look on his face he was about to avoid my answer.

I gave him my death stare.

Sighing again, he lifted the hanging branch for us to pass through and said, “Circle Mates can be more than one. There can be a Link, in this case Ye’. Sometimes there have been known to be two maybe three Circle Mates that all connect as one.”

Okay hold up, more than one Mate? Mates...plural? He was joking. There was no way that's what was happening. I was only just finding out there were entirely different realms full of shifters and magic and I was apparently part of it all.

I hated people, I hated to talk about pointless topics, and I hated to smile and pretend the people around me weren’t all sick in their own way with their lies and ignorant ways.

“That's not what's happening here.” Not a question-a statement-but there was no way I was ever going to accept having a mate.

“Wee one, Ye seem to be the first Dark Witch in eighteen years. The possibility tha’ ye’ aren’t just mated to me is strong. I knew tha’ when I saw ye’ eyes. I accept tha’ ye’ aren’t just mine.” He stopped walking and looked down at me, my emotionless face reflected in his red eyes.

“My dragon and I have been alone for so long; we welcome Circle brothers in our lives.”

More than one. The potential for three. I wasn’t made for this. I wasn't made for love. I didn't even know what love was. I didn't know how to love.

The boys were my obsession, my possessions. They were simply mine. I didn't love them, and I know they didn't love me.We didn’t have the capacity to love. Our obsession was enough.

Cole’s anger and loathing towards me and the fact I was a Dark Witch didn't bother me. I had been hated my entire life. One more person wouldn't hurt.

Right?

I ignored the odd ache in my chest and followed Rí further through the Wisteria trees. His tense shoulders and ticking jaw a sign he was agitated.

I only needed these men to get me back to the human realm. No matter what, that would always be my aim.

I couldn’t breathe freely without Elyas and Ellfyn, I couldn't live without them.

I would use Rí’s help; I would take their help. But that was all. I had no room or need for anything else.

We walked through the trees in silence before we entered a huge circle garden.

More wisteria hung all around, some in pots, some trees and some climbing vines that looped and wound their way through a long narrow pergola that ran the expanse of a perfectly polished stone path.

In the centre of the garden stood a huge white stone statue.

It was carved perfectly, with sharp angles and soft curves.

It was a cloaked man standing tall and proud. He was obviously important.

We veered to the left, coming off the stone path and walked through more trees.

“The head of the council,” Rí grumbled, the distaste for the man clear in his voice. Looked like the giant had issues with the people in charge.

“We’ll go through the back way; we don’t want people seeing ye’ eyes Wee one.” He walked through thickening trees. Slowly the wisteria thinned, and we eased through butterfly bushes that smelled just as sweet and floral as the trees.

The muscles in his back flexed and shifted as he stalked through the bushes, his large feet trampling through the lush greenery.

He was hiding me, keeping me a secret, like I was something to be ashamed about.

He said it wasn’t an issue to him that I was a Dark Witch, but now it had been confirmed had he changed his mind?

He had said he wanted Circle brothers. Perhaps that's all he actually wanted.

He wanted brothers he could bond with, a family.

I could understand that. Maybe he didn't want anything more from me than to find his brothers.

I reminded myself I didn't care if he wanted me.

I didn't want him either.

I didn't.

***

After walking through more bushes and a dark looking alley, we entered an old stone building, its aged architecture a thing of beauty and history itself.

It was one of those buildings that you just knew held ancient texts that held some sort of important significance to the past. And this was just the side entrance.

I wanted to see what the main entrance would look like.

I followed Rí down dark corridors and into a small stuffy office. The stale smell of old smoke and cigars burned my nose. Its desk was a mess with scattered papers, dripped wax and opened leather bound journals.

Each corner of the room held books of all kinds, thick hard backs, colourful leather covers. Each stack was piled high and leaning.

Rí aimed straight for the desk and started opening draws and shuffling the papers about.

“The man is a messy son of a bit–” The clearing of a throat cut Rí off. I turned and inched away from the elderly man stood behind me.

Did I mention I didn't like people?

He was hunched over about my height, with a bald head holding one singular white hair in the middle. His watery eyes were huge behind his thick glasses and a black pipe hung from dry lips.

“What are you doing in my office dragon?” He croaked out before shuffling into the room with a heavy wheeze coming from his chest.

“Sir–” Rí started but was cut off once more by the old man waving a wrinkled hand and shuffling over to the desk, ignoring me completely.

Thankfully.

“Pack that in. Why are you messing up my desk?” If anything, Rí’s shuffling had tidied the desk up.

I stayed silent.

“We are looking for the birth records. Eighteen years ago yesterday.” Straight to the point it seemed.

The old man arched a bushy white brow and started to hack away from the pipe. His lips held tight around the thin pipe stem as he wheezed and coughed.

“Outta my way then boy!” He snapped when he finally caught his breath.

He sat in the big chair behind the desk with a relieved sigh, then snapped, “Light it up for me will ya!”

Rí sighed and waved his hand towards the pipe; a flame flung from his hand and lit the pipe back up, the smoke now swirling from its end.

I had noticed various things about Rí the past day. When he was angry, his body became so heated, the areas around him singed and burned. In fact, the angrier he got, his eyes burned brighter. He could create and cast flames with just a flick of his hand.

He wasn't a bearded dragon. He was an actual dragon.

“Can you fly?” I blurted out.

His brows raised before a small smile pulled at his wide lips, completely changing his face. His eyes brightened and creased around the edges. He seemed more softer, gentle. Why couldn't I look away?

My chest ached.

Ignoring me, the old man said, “Pass me that book. I'll look there. Then you can get out of my office.”

Rí passed him the book and we waited in silence.

It stretched on as the man flicked through page after page. His big watery eyes zoomed through the text before licking a thumb and turning the page.

Page after page, thumb lick after thumb lick.

Somewhere in that book were my birth records, somewhere on that book explained who my birth parents could potentially be.

Dark Witches hated and loathed. Dark Witches who may or may not have helped in killing thousands of people and closing off the portals, who somehow put me in the human realm with him, Lyal.

Somewhere on that page were the names of the people who gave me to a monster, and in doing so, created one.

Because that's what I was after all; the dreams I had of hurting people, of spilling their blood and watching as it drained the life from them. That made me a monster, didn’t it? Because they weren’t just dreams. Oh no.

The second I knew my boys were safe, I was going for Lyal, and I was going to relish in his screams.

The slamming of the book closing ripped me from my thoughts. The man sucked on his pipe then licked his lips and said, “No one was born that year. It was the war after all. Now there was a bloom the year after. But nope. Nadda. Nothing.”

“That can't be right.” I stormed over and snatched the book from his hands and opened it.

Empty.

The book was empty.

I flung each page over, but it was all blank. No ink in sight. Nothing.

“Mo Chridhe, only the Book Master can read the book.” Rí gently laid his warm hand on mine where it clutched at the empty book.

“Now get out,” the man snapped as he rose from his chair and finally looked at me.

He stared into my eyes, waited just one second before saying, “And shut the damn door. You're letting the cold in.”

Was the old man hiding something? Or were there really no records of me? I had so many questions, and all were unanswered.

We left the building and walked back through the wisteria trees towards the blurred portal.

Rí mentioned there were more ways to find out who my birth parents were, that he would figure something out.

I didn't listen. Instead I looked to the clear sky now turning pink as the sun set, the cool breeze slightly tugging at my long black hair.

My stomach churned. Another day without the twins.