"About?" I have no choice, turning over on my back, he moves away and props his head up.
"My sisters, my life before." He sighs, trailing his fingers down my forearm. "They were kitchen witches."
Why does that word start a fire within me. "What does that mean?"
Ambrose smiles. "My oldest sister, she looks just like me, well, I look just like her, anyway! They were skilled with herbs and cooking. Weaving spells into cakes, pies, porridges." He sighs. "Easy way to kill a man or charm one."
My heart begins to race, my skin turning cold. Swallowing hard, my mind is remembering something. My hands shake as my breath comes shattering from between my teeth. "Ambrose…is that what you're doing to me?"
"No, what? Come on now." He lifts himself so he's leaning over me. His brown and green eyes are gentle. "What made you say that?"
He's searching my face for answers. I can't look away, something inside tells me that if I look away, I'm guilty, he'll know what I've done. What did I do?
"A thought." I whisper. "And you could back up a little." Pushing his chest, he pretends to fall over.
"So mean," He cuddles up to my side once more. "Anyway, they were very skilled, no one could taste a thing."
His voice drowns on and on. Jeez, he really does love to hear himself talk. Certified yapper indeed, I don't remember falling asleep.
It's three days later, that Ambrose and I are heading into the jungle, or whatever this thickness of trees is on this island.
"Tell me something, Ione," He says, waving his hand so that the trees move from around us. "Do you remember someone named Athanasius?"
The name strikes my heart. Tears begin to take over, I let out a sob and stop in my tracks leaning against a tree. Why do I feel like this? Like I've lost something? Someone. Athanasius. Athy! Wait! Recognition flares in my brain, and I throw myself at Ambrose, striking his chest and arms as he attempts to hold me at arms length.
"You fucking bastard! I knew it! What are you doing to me! Where is he?" My strength is giving out, crumbling to the ground, I cover my face and cry.I'm forgetting him. Ambrose is making me forget him. I loved him. Loved? I still do? Where is he?
"Lost to you, he doesn't want you anymore, Ione, can't you see that?" Ambrose chides softly, kneeling in front of me. "It's you and me now babe."
"No." I can still hear his voice in my mind.The night does not belong to me, I love it on you, Ione."He loves me. He said I was his consort. You're lying." I bolt upright and take off into the jungle.
I don't know where I'm going. I don't know what's going to happen to me and I am scared. I'm trapped here, on this island, for who knows how long. My family. My life. He's snatching it from me. Suddenly, there are arms around my waist, pulling me back and I'm fighting, kicking, and screaming, all the way back to the castle as Ambrose sets me on the stone floor.
"Enough!" He sighs. "You want proof? I'll give it to you, look." He waves his hand and the air shimmers in front of us.
A portal between space and time begins to open. It's hazy at first, warbling at the corners, transparent, and odd looking until it shows me a desert. I don't know which one, but the sand is beet red, the sun is setting in the sky and an old man with gold rimmed glasses, holds the hand of a woman draped in a slinky black mini dress.
"Master, she may not be your consort, but she is a salve for now. An eager follower of yours, someone to take the sting off. I promise, every desire she will fulfill." The old man twirls the girl around.
"Athanasius?" I whisper.
He's sitting on a throne made of bone. Stark white against the sand, he watches the girl and closes his eyes. "For my amusement?" He drawls slowly.
Ambrose closes the portal and tears well up in my eyes. No. He wouldn't. Not that easy, not like that. Our connection, I haven't severed it.
"He is a Primordial," Ambrose clucks his tongue. "He doesn't truly care about you, Ione, do you see now?"
Standing, I swallow hard and swipe out, my left hand connecting hard with Ambrose's cheek. "Fuck you."
I have no choice but to eat. What can I do? I can't starve myself. I wish I had the strength to. I've been trying to pick at my food, drink water from the bathroom, but tonight I can feel the haze again. Who am I when I'm like this? What can I do?
"Are we done with our tantrum?" Ambrose sighs. He watches me sit on the edge of the bed. "I've spared you that fate, Ione, trust me."
"I can't trust you." I mutter. "You're drugging me. You're making me forget him, what's the long game here? Make me denounce him? Yeah, cause that will—" Realization slams into my front lobe, clear as day. "I renounce him and he can't stay on this plain. He has to return to his realm, he needs me as his anchor to hold form on this realm, or he has to absorb my life to walk in his true one." My eyes mist over as I stare at Ambrose. "You want him to leave here. You want him gone."
Ambrose shakes his head. "Took you long enough. You'll do it though." He crouches in front of me. "It won't be long." He kisses my knees. "You'll forget him, you'll renounce him, he leaves this realm, and then you're mine."Ambrose lays his head on my thighs. "How is that for revenge? I get the one person The Withering cares about in this world as my consort."
"You're not a primordial." I shoot back, unable to remove him from my lap. "You can't have a consort."
