Page 52 of The Freedom You Seek

He was deadly serious, even though you’d think no one could mean something like that, and it baffled me. “I can fight my own battles with all of you, Dion,” I said, although I had to admit that it felt weirdly good to have him in my corner, always ready to step in for me. “But no, I need to at least see if I can be of any use. I don’t want to stay the weak link forever. It feels wrong to turn something down that could potentially help.” The unintended pun had me chuckle.

Dion’s lips curled harshly as if he’d recently bitten into something sour. “Yes, you hate being dependent on anyone or being limited by constrictions,” he said and gently dabbed his finger against the silver matrimony choker I was wearing against my will. “So, think about it. As an Amplifier, you’ll still only play a passive role. Of course, I’ll teach you self-defense, and I sure as fuck won’t stop protecting you, but in a way, you’ll always need someone else. To be of magical use or for your safety. Just consider that.”

“So, basically just like now, only that I have a way of supporting the team instead of being dead weight?” It was obvious what Dion was trying to do. He wanted me to deny Thain my magical support, and he was trying to use my convictions to manipulate me into doing so. But I wouldn’t allow that. “I want to try, at least. And saying yes in the present doesn’t mean it won’t turn into a no in the future.”

Finally, Dion let go of my hand and got up. He towered over me, staring down, and I was able to see how hard he was fighting against himself. He was shaking withsuppressed emotions—I couldn’t discern what it was that he held back, he was just all over the place, and it was clear that it pained him. “I’ll supervise your training with him.” The finality of this decree left me with a knot in my stomach. I could imagine at least a thousand ways how it could go sideways if he’d monitor Thain’s and my training.

“Only if you’re able to be in Thain’s vicinity without escalating. You’ll have to be calm and collected—and polite. And you better make up with him, you know? Try to find some common ground. He may be careless sometimes, and oh my, he can talk, but he isn’t malicious.” I rose to my feet and crossed my arms over my middle, as I gave Dion a strict stare. Sadly, my attempt at intimidation would have made more of an impact if I still hadn’t been over a head shorter than him.

And Dion wasn’t impressed at all. His face closed off, lips thinning, eyebrows drawing together—his trademark scowl returned. “Stop sticking your nose into my business, Jama. I promised you no murder, that should be enough for you. So, if that’s all, go to sleep. We’ll start training with weapons tomorrow before we’ll continue riding.” All of his walls were up once more. One day, I would tear them all down, I swore to myself.

“Stop bossing me around. That’s not how friends treat each other.” Grumbling only earned me one of his narrow-eyed stares.

“Did you just call me your friend? Jama, you don’t want to be friends with me.” Dion’s retort, which was accompanied by a scandalized scoff, caught me off guard, and stunned, I watched him saunter away.

“Infuriating asshole.” Making a frustrated sound, I followed him and tried to ignore the painful sting of rejection. That he’d acted as if the idea of a friendship with me was a far-fetched disillusion of a lunatic—me—hurt more than I wanted to admit.

Dion woke me up an hour before we usually would have packed up our camp. “Get up. You’ll have five minutes to get ready before I’ll come and haul you with me, whether you’re finished or not.”

It felt as if I had just fallen asleep, but Dion just ignored me and my grumbling.

Instead, he stalked off, and I narrowed my eyes. Sitting up, I grabbed my pillow and threw it at his retreating form.

Dion had the audacity to dodge my projectile without even looking, and I briefly wondered if he had eyes on the back of his head. He only chuckled as I watched in horror at how my pillow fell into a puddle of mudinstead of hitting him.

I was mortified and grimaced when he turned back to me and simply smirked. This infuriating bastard! I would definitely steal his pillow the next night.

I quickly grabbed my clothes and hurried toward a secluded spot to change. I was in a rush, and my mind was preoccupied with recalling yesterday’s revelations about mirror worlds, other species, and magical Amplifier. As a result, I stayed closer to camp as usual, quickly removing my nightdress but leaving the band around my chest supporting my breasts in place. The garment was still clean enough for now, but I’d have to change it soon too, or else it would start to smell. The same was true for the leggings I was wearing. I leaned forward, fishing for the clean dress I brought with me.

At least, that’s what I’d intended. Instead, rough, calloused fingers gently traced over the crisscross pattern disfiguring the skin of my back, and not only a shudder, but also a rush of panic swept through me. I’d always been careful not to show my scarred back to anyone, but now—I’d been seen.

I wanted to turn around, state of undress be damned, but a hand quickly grabbed my shoulder and held me in place. I didn’t have to turn around to find out who’d been sneaking up on me. Of course, Dion had followed me. I should have checked. It wasn’t the first time he’d secretly stalked after me when I needed a moment alone. Overbearing, sneaky idiot, that one.

“Whom do I have to kill? Who’s responsible for all these scars?” Dion’s voice sounded dark, menacing, and even deeper than usual. The threat that his words and tonebarely concealed was accompanied by a growl so feral that I had to suppress the urge to cower down.

“Let it go, Dion. It’s nothing of importance. Definitely not anything worth coaxing out your murderous side,” I said in an attempt to defuse the situation, trying again to reach for my dress. After learning to know him better, I didn’t doubt he’d go on a revenge spree if given the chance. It didn’t necessarily have to do anything with me. Instead, I was certain that it was more of an outlet for the violent tendencies he kept bottled up most of the time.

However, Dion didn’t accept my attempts to deflect. He held me in place and traced the scar tissue with the pads of his fingers on his other hand. “This is definitely notnothing.”

His touch tingled, and a pleasant warmth spread through my body. I couldn’t help but shudder again as each line that he painted on my back left aftershocks of tiny eruptions of charged sensations in its wake.

“You don’t get scars like that from nothing or by accident. What I see here are winters of intentional mistreatment. Some of them are so fresh they have barely healed. So let me ask you again, Nayana. Who did this to you?”

A part of me always reacted when Dion used my real name—abbreviated or not—instead of calling me by the nickname he’d chosen for me, but this was too personal. I shivered and shook my head. “The past is the past. Please let me get dressed now.”

“Youwilltell me. If not now, then soon,” Dion snarled, sounding frustrated.

This man. This infuriating, murderous, hotheaded, beautiful, caring man. He was slowly driving me insane.

I finally spun around, not caring one bit that I only wore a small piece of cloth wrapped around my chest, and I glared at his face. “Why should I tellyousomething so personal? Just last night, you clarified that we aren’t friends. So, forget what you saw. I don’t want you to know.”

Dion narrowed his eyes as he drew in an audible sharp breath, and for a moment, it felt good to have retaliated against his earlier rejection of my friendship. However, the petty triumph quickly faded, leaving me with the lingering hurt of what he’d said yesterday, while I also did my best to ignore the pain clearly written in his eyes.

Frustrated, I grabbed my dress and quickly slipped into it. All the while, Dion watched me, not moving at all. I was already completely dressed when I heard him talking once more.

“Fine. As you wish, Jama. Come, we have work to do.”

I was afraid that today’s introduction to self-defense would be more of a disaster than a training session. Dion’s mood after our previous exchange was atrocious. The only thing he did was explain how to maintain a weapon and how to carry and hold it safely.