Page 13 of My Dark Obsession
Taking the paper to his fireplace, he threw it in and whispered ‘Libera’. Instead of going up in flames as expected, it caught light then disappeared in a puff of red smoke.
Yep. Actual fucking magic.
I couldn’t help but ask, “so what are you?”
“A dragon. The last of them. Soup?”
Seriously? A dragon? I followed him into a spacious kitchen and stood in the doorway watching as he heated a pan of what I assumed was soup over the stove.
Was he a dragon that actually shifted shape and flew in the sky with huge wings? Or was he a dragon as in those cute wiggly bearded dragons? The painting above the fireplace was an obvious sign but my mind couldn’t conjure up the image of this man shifting into a mystical beast. I wanted to ask but the smell of cooking food made my mouth water.
I watched on silently as my stomach cramped in hunger. It had been so long since I’d had warm food in my stomach. Any chance of food we had, I made sure my boys were fed first. They always pushed it away and practically force fed me back. They were as protective of me as I was with them.
I couldn’t sit in this warm apartment and fill my stomach with food whilst they were in that house with him. No doubt suffering.
The giant slid a huge bowl on the counter and looked at me pointedly.
“Sit. Eat. Then you can wash and sleep. We will find out everything tomorrow.” He then filled himself a bowl and waited.
I didn’t blink.
My eyes watered.
My mouth watered.
My stomach cramped.
Still, I didn’t move.
The silence stretched between us.
He sighed and rested his hands on the counter, hanging his head.
Yep, he was already fed up with me.
“It’s not poisoned.” He muttered.
Oops. That should have been my first thought, but no, I simply couldn’t eat knowing the twins would be going hungry. They relied on me, trusted me. I promised them I would get them when Lyal was done and asleep and I hadn’t. How long had I been gone? Two nights? Three? Was the time the same between realms?
My stomach growled loudly.
He sighed again before pointedly sipping from the spoon in my bowl. My eyes tracked the movement. “See, no’ poisoned.”
Sighing to myself in frustration I wiped my palms on my legs, the urge to grab the twin’s hands or to hold a book within my sweaty palms a nervous habit I now had no access to.
“It’s not that,” I told him, “I can’t eat when they aren’t.”
He nodded his head, eyes full of understanding as he walked to stand in front of me. Placing a warm finger under my chin he lifted my face, his eyes searching mine.
I should have pulled away, told him not to touch me. Told him I didn’t like to be touched. But I didn’t. Instead I stared into his glowing red eyes and almost sighed at his warmth.
Something was definitely wrong with me.
“If ye’ need to find a way back to these boys, then ye’ need ye’re strength. So eat. Wash. Sleep. Then we will find a way to them.” He was right; he was obviously right. I would need strength to get them and run, I wouldneed my strength for when I smashed that pole over Lyal’s head, and I would certainly need it for when I slit his throat.
I sat at the round table by the kitchen window as he brought our bowls over and squeezed himself in the chair opposite me, his legs so large and cramped under the table his knees knocked into mine. The soup smelled of cream and tomatoes. My mouth salivated.
I sipped from the spoon and tried my hardest not to slam my face into it and rub the soup into my skin to get it in me faster.
