Chapter 19 Chapter Nine Part One - Orenda
I feel like I’m going crazy.
Every night I have had these overwhelmingly vivid dreams where in them, Azadou comes to my room at night touching me, pleasing me and telling me that I am his. They are erotic as hell, but they are driving me insane. Every morning I wake up exhausted, soaking wet and frustrated beyond belief. I’ve tried masturbation but once again I gave up extremely fast because no matter what I did I just couldn’t finish. My touch doesn’t burn and excite me the way his did and if I’m honest, it’s not fingers I’m craving.
I feel like my mind is reliving the frustration of that day in his house. I fantasise about his fingers inside me or his mouth on my body because at least I know what one of those is like. I’m incapable of picturing what it would be like to actually have him inside me I guess because I have no idea what he looks like naked. I’ve seen him shirtless and that…that was enough to make my brain explode.
I still recall circling the battlefield when our bond clicked into place. To my eyes, his body was radiating the most incredible shade of black – cold and chilling yet deeply enticing – as sparks of electric purple burst around him. I knew only I could see this. I knew in that moment what he was to me, so when I realised everyone was there to battle my animai while I was kept out by that infuriating shield, it filled me with an insane rage and fear.
Amidst the rage and consuming panic, I remember feeling so much awe. Our distance at the time could not impede my keen sight, and as the chaos ensued, my eyes shamefully drank in every chiselled inch of him. His bronze-coloured skin, radiant with a natural sheen, drew my attention as did his inhumanly defined muscles, so large and firm it was like his very flesh was fighting to contain them within his body. When you think ‘body of a God’ his is what you see in your mind, which makes the fact the only time I’ve been able to touch him there were clothes acting as a barrier between us, is drives me to madness!
I let out a groan of frustration and throw myself back onto the bed, punching the mattress as I kick and flail my legs around, trying to expel this pent-up energy from my body, but it’s useless.
“What in the name of the Gods are you doing?” I suddenly hear Ayawamat quiz in bewilderment.
I look over at him hovering in my doorway, never even having heard him come in, which speaks to how distracted I am at the moment.
“Drowning in my frustration. What do you want?” I snap.
“Touchy, touchy. You know, you’ve been crabby ever since your little rendezvous with your animai. Most people don’t end up more sexually frustrated after someone gets them off, but as always, my sister is the exception to the rule,” he taunts. I can hear it in his voice just how much he’s enjoying finally being able to tease me about my sex life – or lack thereof.
“I’m not an exception to anything. I don’t expect you to understand,” I sigh in defeat.
Ayawamat walks over and sits on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, and you’re right. I can hear all about animais, but I can’t ever truly know what you’re going through unless I experience it for myself and I’m sure the fact your animai is a God only makes it that much harder,” he consoles me, his tone now compassionate.
I look over at him, “At least you can sympathise a little bit.” I sigh and rub my face. “For most people, they meet their animai and just bask in each other’s presence, then sooner rather than later complete their bond. My animai ignores my existence, then sends mixed signals and leaves me in perpetual limbo. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do, and I can feel the longer we’re apart the worse these feelings get. Thanks to Jartre, I know Azadou can’t possibly be immune to our bond, and I can kind of understand why he’s fighting it so hard, but I’m not a God and I’m not trying to manipulate him. I just wish he’d give me a chance,” I explain despondently.
“It doesn’t take a God to see that he is stubborn as hell and I think we both know where he gets that from, but you lying around here wallowing isn’t going to make you feel better and frankly it is so not you. You are not this person, and I won’t let you become her. If I were you, I would confront his mind-fucking ass but until then, I say we take a night off from saving the world and go get hammered,” he declares, jumping to his feet with a big grin on his face.
I raise my eyebrow as I sit up on my elbows. “That’s your solution? Drowning my sorrows in booze?”
“No, my solution is to get your mind off this shit for a night by having some fun. You remember what that is? It’s the thing people do to bring joy into their lives,” he quizzes patronisingly.
I reach back, grab my pillow and hurl it at him, but unfortunately, it’s thin and light so he catches it effortlessly with a stupid grin on his face.
“I’ll give you one hour to get yourself ready and if you’re not done by then I am dragging you out as you are. You have been warned,” he declares, strutting out of the room with my pillow under his arm.
“Give me back my pillow!” I shout at him.
“Stop shouting and get dressed!” he retorts.
I take a deep breath and sit up, letting all the air out of my lungs as I look over at my closet. I reflect on Aya’s words, realising he made some strong points. I don’t wallow or whine about anything. Of course, I’ve never had anything to wallow or whine about until now. Even with my duties, my life has been relatively carefree. I feel like the carefree side of me has been snuffed out a little since my animai came into my life, which sucks because an animai is meant to make you feel whole and complete, not miserable and frustrated.
Aya is right, I do need a night of fun!
Launching myself off the bed, I march over to my closet, push open the sliding doors and begin examining everything I own. I’m starting to question my own taste when a particular ensemble grabs my attention. I grab the hanger and look over the skimpy little number as a wave of rebellion washes over me. Would Azadou be enticed to see me in this or angered? Well, he’s likely to never see it so why the hell should I care?
I toss the outfit on the bed and make my way to the bathroom. As I walk over to the vanity, I tie my hair up in a bun and then get to work on my makeup. Tonight I am going all out and by that I mean I’m going full vamp. My complexion is flawless so foundation would just be a waste, but I do add a bit of highlighter to my cheekbones and above the arch of my brow just to make the high points of my face pop. I then work on a dark, burgundy, smokey look with the slightest hint of shimmer on my lids. When I get to my lips I decide to be a bit more creative. I line my lips with a deep black liner and fill in the edges of my mouth and the points of my top lip before adding a gorgeous, frosted copper lipstick to the centre of my lips and defusing the edges.
Once I’m satisfied that I look like a sanguidae ready to lure in unsuspecting prey to feast upon in some underground club, I brush my hair back and up into a high pony and twist the ponytail into a nice, long plait that reaches down to my shoulder blades. It’s been a long time since I put this much effort into my looks and there’s something oddly liberating about it, mainly because I’m doing this for myself and no one else.
I head back to my bedroom, strip out of my clothes and look down at the outfit on my bed. I debate putting on underwear, but that rebellious streak continues, and I decide to throw caution to the wind. I get to work putting on the sparkling, silver, rhinestone skirt, pinning and lacing it together on my hip. The skirt is short and sits high on one hip and low on the other creating a V-shape and leaving my thigh completely exposed. One wrong move and I’m bearing all to the entire world. I then put on the matching low-cut, backless halter top and look at myself in the mirror. A smile splits across my face when I see how drop-dead gorgeous I look. I’m not trying to sound vain, but I don’t know why I let this outfit sit in the closet collecting dust for so long.
I reach into the closet and grab a pair of nude, five-inch stilettos, buckle up the ankle strap and adjust the nude chains that hang down the arch of my foot. I stand up straight, once again admiring myself in the mirror and give my body a shimmy, giggling with glee at the way my outfit twinkles in the light. I look like an expensive, sexy disco ball and I’m loving it!