Deviating from the original plot

Chapter ninety-three

"Are you all right?" she whispered, voice low.

"No, please don't stop," Celeste gasped, voice trembling. Her hips chasing the mouth that had just left her.

Victoria didn't answer with words.

She surged up onto her knees, breasts rising and falling with each ragged breath. In one yank she dragged her nightgown over her head and flung it aside, and in moments moonlight poured over her bare skin.

Celeste's eyes drank her in, tracing every moonlit curve: the swell of Victoria's breasts, the tight dip of her waist, and the glistening trail of arousal already shining on the inside of her thighs. A soft, shaky exhale left Celeste's lips, as if the sight alone could undo her.

But Victoria wasn't done. She leaned down again, capturing Celeste's mouth in a fierce kiss, letting her taste herself on Victoria's tongue. Her hand dipping between her legs to stroke through her wetness without entering, building the ache anew.

Only when Celeste was writhing, begging in small whimpers, did Victoria hook her right leg over her shoulder, settling between Celeste's thighs. A trembling, shared gasp spilt from their lips as they eventually met.

"Like this?" Victoria breathed. She rolled forward, letting her clit glide fully against Celeste's in one long stroke. Their bodies shuddered together.

Celeste's hands rose to Victoria's waist, fingers sinking deep into her skin, anchoring herself.

Then Victoria began to move. A slow, deliberate roll at first that sent thrills up their spine, then she rolled her hips once more, a smooth glide that made Celeste's fingers tighten on her waist, their mingled arousal coating their inner thighs in a glossy sheen. Every time Victoria pressed forward, their clits kissed and caught, sending a spark up both their spines.

Celeste's breath hitched on every grind. "Yes... like that," she whispered, her voice breaking into a soft moan.

Victoria's rhythm deepened, steady and unhurried, but with a growing hunger beneath the tenderness. She watched Celeste's face in the moonlight and felt her own heart stutter at the sight. She shifted just slightly, changing the angle so that on every forward roll their clits rubbed directly, relentlessly, perfectly.

The pleasure coiled tighter, sweeter. Soft gasps became breathless whimpers. Their hips found the same unspoken tempo: forward, circle, back, forward again.

Victoria bore down, grinding in slow, deliberate circles that dragged them both to the edge and held them there.

One more slow, deep grind, and they fell together.

A bright, trembling wave that started deep in their bellies and surged outward in perfect unison. They kept moving through it, tiny, helpless circles that brought out every last tremor until their bodies finally stilled, fused together, slick and trembling and breathless.

Victoria eased Celeste's leg from her shoulder, letting it settle gently onto the bed, then lowered herself to bury her face into Celeste's neck.

Celeste's fingers slipped gently through Victoria's hair, keeping her close. The room had fallen into a deep, fragile quiet—broken only by the soft, uneven rhythm of their breathing and the faint rustle of the blankets as they shifted together beneath them.

Tonight, neither of them spoke. Words felt too small for the weight of what was coming.

Victoria exhaled slowly, her forehead resting against Celeste's collarbone, grounding herself in the warmth there. Celeste's arm tightened around her in response—a silent promise, steady and unshaken.

Tomorrow would bring danger, chaos, and the unknown. But tonight, they allowed themselves this moment of stillness... a moment to breathe, to feel, to hold on.

A moment to remember why they were fighting at all.

✦ ✦

The next day, preparations began in earnest.

The air around the camp shifted—tense, focused, buzzing with the quiet urgency of people who knew the clock was ticking.

Victoria, Celeste, Cassius, Evelyn, and the others gathered at dawn, going over their roles one last time. Maps were unrolled across tables, weapons checked, charms tested, and signals agreed upon. Every movement felt sharper, more deliberate.

Victoria scanned the faces around her, committing each one to memory. This is it, she thought.

"We move at sundown," Evelyn said, fastening the clasp of her cloak. "No delays. Once we enter the tunnels, we won't get another chance."

Cassius crossed his arms. "Good. The longer we wait, the worse the odds."

Celeste glanced at Victoria knowingly, then asked, "Is everyone clear on the route?"

A chorus of nods followed.

"Then whatever happens," Victoria said, her voice steady despite the anxiety twisting inside her, "we stick to each other. No breaking formation unless absolutely necessary."

"Right," Cassius added. "We're not giving that entity a single opening."

As the group dispersed to make final preparations, Victoria lingered for a moment, looking up at the sky—clear, quiet, oblivious to the storm that would erupt by nightfall.

Tonight, she thought, tightening her grip on her gloves, we take our future back.

✦ ✦

Later that day, Cassius slipped away from the camp and headed to the shed one last time. Damien was already awake, sitting on the floor with his arms bound, his expression distant and unreadable.

"So, this is it," Damien murmured as Cassius stepped inside. "You're really going through with it."

Cassius nodded. "We are."

He knelt beside him and resumed tending to the lingering curse marks.

Damien watched him for a few seconds before saying, "You won't survive it."

"We will," Cassius replied simply, using the last of the solution on Damien's skin.

Damien scoffed but didn't argue. Silence stretched for a moment—tense, strangely calm—until he muttered, almost grudgingly, "You're more stubborn than I expected."

Cassius let out a quiet, amused breath. "Took you long enough to figure that out."

A faint spark of something—annoyance, amusement, maybe both—flickered in Damien's eyes. "Idiot prince."

"Feral dog," Cassius shot back lightly.

That earned the smallest smirk from Damien. "I'll make you regret saying that."

"Too bad you're still tied up," Cassius teased as he stood, dusting off his hands.

Damien scowled, but the expression lacked its usual venom.

Cassius gave him one last look before turning toward the door and stepping out of the shed.

As he left, Damien stared at the empty vial of solution left on the floor.