Page 154 of A Dance of Water

Her chest rose and fell rapidly as she collapsed onto her back, basking in the rain on her skin and frigid air on hercheeks.

It had been nearly a fortnight. The mourning period was almost over, and Luella was no closer to accessing her power. If anything, it felt further away than ever.

"Get up," Tharen snarled.

"Just a moment," she panted. She wanted to sleep. Her bodyhurt.

The Prima was a merciless teacher. Good for soldiers, but not for a pampered princess turned prisoner like herself.

"I said,get up."

A low rumble came from the outskirts of their makeshift training grounds—Az, even muzzled and chained, defending her as always. She stretched her hand out, reaching for him.

Days of hard training and nights of terror-filled visions of the past left her bone-weary. She had no time for herself, let alone her demon.

"Luella…" Vale’s voice rang out, a warning that if she did not follow the mage’s demands, he would be forced to step in.

She rubbed a hand over the mark on her chest, soothing more than just the soft pulses of the tattoo, but also the ache in her soul.

The threads greedily reached out. Punishing, when she dared to relent.

Her body twinged with pain as she pushed herself off the ground. She stood with balled hands, ready for what new torture the Prima would wreak upon her.

She didn’t have to wait long.

A rushing cyclone spun around her, whipping her hair into her face with stinging intensity.

Her body swayed with the rush of the wind, and her fingertips tingled with the promise of retaliation.

Tharen’s voice pierced the cyclone as she felt him step inside it with her. "Feel the ground, feel the wind. Take it. Use it. Don’t let it be used against you." He grabbed her shoulders, stilling her wobbling form as he pressed his hand over her lower stomach.

The thread between them trilled. Tiny cracks radiated from the invisible lock on her power. His hand moved lower, pressing under her navel.

"I-I’m trying."

"No, you’re not." Tharen’s voice was like silk over frozen steel. "Give in." His breath warmed her face as he held himself before her, so close, and she was so aware. "Let it out."

His lips brushed hers. She knew it was no accident.

The cracks splintered as tiny tendrils of power escaped, mingling eagerly with his. But it wasn’t enough. She tried to relax her body like he had taught her, loosening her muscles, but no matter how hard she concentrated, she only tensed more.

Luella gasped against him. Amid the roar of the wind, he took her mouth fully—demanding and consuming.

The wind blocked out her small noises and his taunting grumbles. With bruising force, he tasted her lips, holding her still with harsh hands as he ate her alive.

Until finally, he jerked away, keeping her steady with a hand on her nape.

She couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.

"Is this what it would be like… between us?" she whispered, unsure if he heard her.

Tharen’s fingers dug into her scalp as he held her head between his hands. He could crush her skull like a ripe fruit. "It will bemore," he promised. The wind threatened to sweep the words away.

Tharen’s hands left her, and she swayed unsteadily.

Desire consumed her—but did not sweep her away. Her hand pressed over the mark of their bargain. She could not escape when the very one she had made the deal with was the one to evoke the feeling.

The wind increased, and her hand moved from her chest to her stomach, chasing after the feeling Tharen had ignited.

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