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I excuse myself to take care of the urgent problem in Thraves and, as suspected, there is nothing urgent about it. A business in Thraves ordered a large wooden display. It is so large it takes three separate deliveries and covers an entire wall of the store.
Slacks hang from the bottom row, while jackets hang from the top. Shirts are folded in a shelved space in the middle between the two rows of bars. The problem is they didn’t follow the assembly directions, mind you all they needed to do was connect the three separate pieces.
I roll the directions into a cone and press them against the store owner’s chest. “Read next time!”
His ragged beard moves with his mouth. “The pieces don’t fit. They need to go back but the store opens in two days. I don’t have time to wait on them to fix it!”
“I’m not a builder, but I can read. According to the directions the bars go in before you connect the pieces. Now you’ll have to take it apart, put in the bars, then reconnect them.”
The store owner grumbles under his breath as he opens the rolled directions. “Some help you are.”
My aggravation rises to new levels as I storm out of the store and take a deep breath. This is an example of the frivolous chores we are assigned. It seems an abuse of power, but there are no laws governing realm walkers and the types of tasks they are to be assigned. In all of the realms there are few laws relating to us. We are allowed to marry hybrids in most realms. It is the lack of laws and loopholes we are planning on exploiting.
Ryel front and center always. I can’t stop thinking about her, especially since the other night. I debate for a second or two if I should attempt to see her and find myself in Canida. The familiar teal light of the inbetween matter dissolves as the portal closes. I stand on the empty street like a heartsick dummy staring at the bar. The last time I was here it had rained and she flicked water at me with magic and turned it into ice cubes.
I will my legs to move but they refuse. Nerves flutter like Aradian solaflies bumbling and bumping inside me. I don’t know if she’s willing or wanting to spend time with me and not steaming over my sex refusal. A part of her must understand we are too young. There’s only one guarantee the first time I realm walker has sex and that’s followed with a baby.
The weather warmer than in Thraves, I drop the hood over my head, building up the nerve to go inside when she steps out, the door closing behind her. Her coat bulging awkwardly as she dances towards me, a smile twitching at the edges of her full, kissable lips.
Reaching me, she opens her coat and drops her eyes to the inside.
I worked myself into a frenzy worrying she’d never want to see me again and here she is, beautiful as ever, with my favorite drink stuffed into her coat. “Canidan Hops. Can you see inside my head, too?”
“No,” she chuckles. “Only the realms, but I thought I’d snag a couple.” She pushes her coat together and wraps her arms around my lower back as if nothing ever went wrong between us.
I wave a hand through the air, creating a door in the middle of the empty road, and my other arm I snake around her.
“Where does that go?” she asks.
“Open it and find out.”
Her sumptuous lips curl into a smile. “Alright.” Her soft hands take the knob and turn and her eyes twinkle under the starry sky as she twists. “Wow! What is this?” she asks, entering my inbetween room.
“My private world.” I close the door and it vanishes.
She explores the items with hands and eyes running over the uneven tops and stopping at the pickaxe with the pearl handle and wooden axe head. She pulls it off its peg and runs a hand along the smooth pearl handle. “What is this?”
“It reverse harvests. The only one in existence.”
She places it back on its peg. “Creepy!”
I can’t take my eyes off her as she sits in my red chair and picks up the metal ball on the table. “Are you some kind of collector?”
“Sort of.”
“What about this? Don’t tell me it holds soul spheres.” The ball resting in the palm of her hand.
I smile, walking closer to her. “It reads the future.”
“Yeah.” She squeezes the ball. “It’s telling me,” she drops the ball on the table and lifts her shirt over her head and throws it at me, “that tonight we are spending the night doing everything but.”
I kneel on the floor and fold my arms around her waist. “It’s never wrong.”
She kisses my neck while her fingers find my abdomen and climb up my chest then pull my shirt over my head and drop it to the ground. She twists herself backwards, her full butt against my chest and pulls her leggings off. She takes my hand and presses it against the flesh between her legs. Her skin soft and supple under my fingers.
One hand explores her chest while I trace my finger along the magic spot. I drop my mouth to her skin and run my tongue along her taut abdomen.
“Look before you partake.”
What? I move my hand away and lift my head, a tiny black lightning bolt catches my eye. “What is that?” I ask, trailing a finger over it.
“It’s my lightning. I was born with it.”
It is a perfect bolt of lightning. I kiss it, my lips lingering on the special mark, different from any I’ve ever seen.
My shirt and pants come off and she stands, thrusting her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I steer her toward the shelves, kissing the flesh on her neck and collarbone. “You’re incredible,” I say, the words spilling from my mouth like hot, sweet liquid.
“Don’t quit what you start, always finish.”
Her lips hungrily meet mine and the heels of her feet push into my back as we drop to the floor and I learn there are many ways to finish without doing the deed.