Page 128 of The Freedom You Seek

As long as I concentrated on the practical side of the Rite, I could stop my thoughts from spiraling. So much was going on in my head, but I ignored it to the best of my ability. I couldn’t change the past, and I’d deal with the future the moment it happened. I wish I couldadapt this mindset for all eternity, but I feared I was a lost cause in that department.

My last stop was the royal residences. Neither the Ivreian nor the Galantan royals had ever lived in Amalach full time, but still, they had owned housing here, reflecting their status. Queen Theandra of Ivreia had often stayed in the City of Air because she’d been obsessed with Galanta and fae. In the end, that obsession had been her downfall and the catalyst for how the Ivreian population was kept ignorant about large portions of their history and the other world separated from them by a thin fabric of reality. The very same fabric that was threatened to tear apart in the present.

Close to my destination, I got distracted by another public building, which was less destroyed than most others. It wasn’t large or ornate, more functional and secure, but of utmost importance—I was standing in front of the Mystic Library of Amalach, the other reason we’d wanted to come here.

Stepping up to the almost pristine entrance, I wrapped my hand around the doorknob and twisted. It wouldn’t move, not even when I poked at it with magic. Instead, the door sent back a pulse of energy that rattled my bones. Ugh, message received. Slightly dazed, I backed off and told myself that this was a problem for after we completed the Rite and the rest of my comrades would have arrived.

Thinking of Antas and the others, I hoped they were safe, but there was nothing I could do for them at the moment. If something terrible had happened, I’d have to deal with it later as well. My priorities were obvious.

In the end, I moved away from the library and walked the short distance toward the royal residences. With only brief hesitation, I slipped into the left building, ready to find out what was gone and what wasn’t.

Cutting and hemming the turquoise dress was easy, even while wearing it. I picked two more simple dresses, one in cherry red and one in a darker shade of blue, and shortened them as well. The sewing kit was a blessing, and luckily, I was rather skilled with needle and thread. Who knew when I’d have the next opportunity to get clothes? And as Dion said, it wasn’t as if anyone had cared about the garments in two centuries.

Finally, I picked up the purple ceremonial robes. Layers upon layers of gossamer, silk, and other soft, sheer fabrics I couldn’t name built up upon each other, but instead of being stiff and overladen, the loose robes were airy and flowed like water. There was no need to try them on. I could tell they were around my size, and they’d been tailored to a loose fit. Plus, the other dresses from this owner fit me well enough. So, there was no need for me to alter the robes, except to shorten the front panels so I wouldn’t stumble every timeI took a step.

Hemming lured me into an almost meditative state, and I stopped worrying for a while, at least until my mind wandered to tomorrow.

When I put my needlework aside, Dion still hadn’t returned, and slowly, my worries about what we were going to do came back in full force. Maybe I should try to sleep, or at least take a nap until Dion arrived.

I untied the laces of my dress and let it pool on the floor, only kept wearing the chemise. Too lazy to search for a proper nightgown, I slipped under the covers and closed my eyes.

My head was full of chaotic thoughts, and I realized very soon that I wasn’t in a state where sleep would come easy.

It’d been ages since I’d been alone for such a long time, and even though I’d always yearned for some peace and quiet, the silence felt deafening and made me uneasy.

I needed to relax and to calm down. Without making a conscious decision, one of my hands wandered from my ribs deeper into my underwear, and I allowed my index finger to slip between my folds.

It had been a while since I’d given myself relief, partly because of what happened in Credenta with Jelric, partly because I’d never been alone for months—touching myself while being around a bunch of grown men felt wrong. But no one was here with me at the moment.

My thoughts drifted as my finger lazily circled around my clit, teasing and tantalizing without seeking direct contact with the little bundle of nerves, gradually building up my arousal. My eyes drifted shut as my breath sped up and my heart beat faster.

Almost unwanted, my mind returned to Samhain when Dion had kissed me. Yes, we’d agreed nothing would ever happen between us, but I was neither blind nor immune to how much I desired him sometimes, and the way he’d kissed me had been worlds-shattering.

I remembered the softness of his lips, the way his tongue had danced with mine, how hungry the kiss had become after only a short while. My core heated up like wildfire from the memories alone, but my imagination wanted more and continued the scene as my fingers teased my soft flesh.

In my fantasy, Dion’s lips moved down my neck, kissing, nibbling, while his hand was interlaced with one of mine, his other arm caging me in, giving me no other option than to submit to him. His teeth nipped at my skin, then he bit down without breaking my skin. His bite wasn’t painful, quite the opposite—a shudder was running through my body, settling right into my core, and I knew he intended to leave an imprint that marked me as his for all to see.

Wetness coated my exploring, teasing fingers as I imagined Dion undressing me without a care in the world while shielding us from prying eyes with his darkness. His calloused hand conquered my bare breast, and he softly massaged it until he rolled my rapidly stiffening nipple between his thumb and index finger.

My own hand mimicked the actions and caressed my breast as I sank deeper into my fantasy. Holding myself back from touching my most sensitive spots became increasingly harder, and my breath sped up even more. I was already panting, my body firing in overdrive. It’s not thatI’d never touched myself before, but nothing had ever been this intense.

The scene in my head unfolded. Dion’s lips were devouring me hungrily, and his hand dipped into my underwear, finding me wet and wanting only for him. The moment his calloused fingers found my clit, I finally allowed my own fingers to ghost over the small bundle of nerves. A moan slipped from my lips, and the heat in my core intensified.

But my overactive mind didn’t stop there, nor did I. Expertly, Dion’s fingers explored my most intimate areas, winding me up more and more, bringing me closer to my climax but never allowing me to succumb to pleasure.

Then he sank to his knees in front of me, and I grabbed his hair, pulling his face close to where I needed him most. Somehow, the remnants of my clothes were gone, and he also was naked. Luckily, no one cared about accuracy and logic in fantasies.

My own fingers increased their pressure on my clit, gliding over it with the wetness coating my flesh. My breath came out in small gasps and moans as my fantasy showed me in great detail how Dion devoured me with his lips and tongue. With long strokes, he licked the entire length of my pussy, then concentrated on lapping over my clit again and again.

Both mine and dream-me’s legs were quivering. My moans escalated in volume—I was so close. Unable to edge myself any longer, I applied more pressure and sank two fingers deep inside me. My whole body shivered, and I’d lost all control over my breath and the sounds I made. Ifa simple fantasy could catapult me to such heights, how good would reality feel?

I was seconds away from exploding when I heard what sounded like a door closing outside the bedroom, and I instantly stilled, barely suppressing a frustrated whimper. My teeth dug into my lower lip as I pulled my hands back to rest on the blanket. In a desperate attempt to ease the strain at least a little, I pressed my legs together in hope of finding some friction. But it was in vain, and a wave of desperation rushed over me—I had been so close, and my whole body burned with unreleased tension.

But my instincts had been correct, and mere moments later, the bedroom door opened, and the object of my erotic dreams stalked into the room. I’d just managed to shift myself into a halfway natural looking sleeping position. I hoped I wasn’t flushed, but just the thought of being caught by Dion while touching myself set my cheeks on fire.

The bedroom door closed, and the room was silent—too silent. Finally, I couldn’t keep my eyes closed any longer, wondering if Dion had left again.

But no, he was standing right at the door, nostrils flaring, pupils dilating. His heated gaze remained fixed on me while he stayed unnaturally still, an all graceful predator who had set his full attention to his ensnared prey. My own gaze darted around the room, always avoiding resting in a single place for too long.