The Monster Within

Ancient

Hollis stood outside the rock formation, wrapped in a blanket, shivering and afraid as she watched Oberon prepare his strange circle. Her eyes kept flashing to Cole, who was now seated by the fire, observing with fascination. The thought of him seeing her nude was somehow worse than Oberon seeing her nude, but the fact that both would see her churned her stomach. Her toes gripped the upturned dirt, small pebbles poking her feet.

Oberon muttered things in a language she seemed to sense no living human had ever heard—that no human for eons had heard. He walked around the circle what felt a thousand times, scattering the plants, pricking his thumb with a knife and smearing his blood on certain stones. Before long, Hollis realized there was a pattern to it. At the top, he'd placed the sage, pressing his blood to the rock. Then to the side, he placed the mugwort, and another bit of blood was smeared. And then directly across from that, rosemary, and more blood. Outside the circle, the shape of a triangle formed in her mind's eye.

The knowledge resting on her shoulders of what Oberon was felt a great responsibility, and she knew she'd not be the one to tell Cole. But as soon as Cole had said the word, had explained the origins of those beings to her on their hike back, she'd known in her soul that was what Oberon was. Ancient, powerful, somehow majestic. She watched as the fire danced upon his tanned skin, his muscled thighs pushing him around the circle again. He raised his face to the sky, and she followed his gaze, a breeze echoing through the trees, seeming to sing to them as the full moon rose. She clutched the blanket tighter about her shoulders, a steady tremble taking root in her core.

She'd never seen something like this—could never even imagine it, having never been pointed in such a direction in her studies. It was new, alluring, and she could see from her glances at Cole that he felt the same. This moment, whatever he was doing, had no place for facts or science. Only gods, only magic.

His deep baritone rose in pitch, the words on his tongue winding, curling, enchanting her. Again, around the circle he went. Her eyes swept to Cole, but he was watching Oberon with intensity, his jeans caked in mud, his simple black shirt tattered. She gnawed her lip, worried, seeking Cole's support in this, though knowing she wouldn't find it, not now. Cole was as curious as she was, and he wanted to see what would happen.

Shaking harder, she turned her attention back to the circle, Oberon paused at what she considered the bottom. His blazing, golden eyes found hers, and—slow—he reached out, curling his fingers and beckoning her. With a final, bashful glance at Cole, she stepped forward, dwarfed by Oberon's presence. His face held no hint of humor, no hint of teasing as he stared down at her. He cupped her chin, brushing his thumb across it, his eyes trailing to her shoulder peeking out from the blanket. He reached up with his other hand, resting it on her bared skin, gentle, sliding the fabric down her arm. The power he exuded as she watched his eyes was unmatched, and she let the blanket fall on that side, still clutching it in her trepidation.

His eyes found hers, then glanced past, and she knew he was communicating with Cole. This was no time for a silly rival over a girl—this was time for both humans to obey an ancient entity. His hand reached for the covering on her other shoulder, pushing that down as well, a steady blush rising in her cheeks as her eyes found his feet, hers between his. She could feel the heat he exuded, his body so close to hers.

"This will not be fast," his deep voice warned, and her eyes flashed up to his. She nodded, pressing her lips together.

"There will be pain. How much, I cannot tell you. It depends on how strong his hold on you already is," Oberon said, voice low, cautious. Hollis hugged herself against the rising breeze, nodding, feeling Cole's eyes on them. Even in her nudity, Oberon's eyes stayed locked on her face, and she was comforted by that fact. She'd wanted to argue when he first demanded she strip, but after hearing what he was, all fight had left her body. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in his palm. He gripped her wrist, flipping her hand so it faced the sky.