Page 162 of A Dance of Water

"Yes," she whispered.

His large hands held her head still, desperate and angry as he hissed, "You will die if you don’t let us in."

Even knowing what they had been saying all along, his words were a shock. A harsh truth.

A small sob welled up inside her as the threads reached for them, calling out. "I can’t." She felt tears burn the back of her eyes, small droplets absorbed by the silken blindfold. "I… can’t."

Tharen growled and let her go. His desperation was so confusing to her. Why didhe care?

Another question you are not ready to hear the answer to, said Bastian. Out loud, he said, "Come here."

She felt herself obey before she could think it through. Slowly, she crawled on her hands and knees across the bed, feeling the mattress dip under her as she felt for him. Cool hands took her, and she settled on his lap. The uneasy shakiness of her limbs was quelled by his touch.

Luella sighed, nuzzling against him as she felt his chest expand with breath.

"You feel it, don’t you?" Bastian murmured gently—so gently and so differently than Tharen had handled her—cupping her face and holding her against him. "How right we are? We’ve felt it, too, the restlessness. I cannot imagine how hard it’s been for you, to feel what I have felt, only in five different directions." His soothing persuasions made her sniffle.

"I’m tired, Bastian," she managed shakily. "I never wanted this."

Az settled a hand on her lower back but did not speak. She wondered what he thought of this—her in the arms of another.

Bastian shushed her. "I know, pet. Just give in, let me help you."

She softened against him. "How?"

"If you do not wish for the Rite, there is another way," Vale announced.

She curled her legs up, chin knocking against her knees as she burrowed into Bastian.

"The sickness has taken hold because you haven’t placated the bond. We’ve been too busy to give you what you need. That needs to be remedied. Physical touch, for one." She heard the grin in Tharen’s voice as he spoke.

Bastian cradled her as if reaffirming the mage’s words. Her lungs ached with every breath, and confusion made her feel overwhelmed.

She was so wrapped up in Bastian, she recoiled when a gloved finger ghosted along her cheek, just the tip as if he were afraid of touching her fully—teasing her with the relief his touch could bring.

"Our scents can help," Graves mumbled, and she leaned into him, begging for him without words. "Your pain is useless, sweetheart."

Dazed, she found herself nodding before she realized it.

"We will share a bed from now on. This will not happen again," the King ordered.

She spluttered from his insinuations, cut off by a sensuous purr in her mind.Only to sleep.

"N-no," she managed, even though shewanteddesperately.

"This is not negotiable. We either placate the bond in this way to ease your sickness, or I will force you to perform the Rite." The Binding mark on her chest pulsed with Vale’s words—a warning.

Her lip curled. She was being tricked, goaded into giving up little pieces of her, until one day, nothing would be left. "Fine," she said through gritted teeth.

"Don’t act so reluctant, pet. It won’t be a chore to share a bed with us." Bastian hummed

She ignored him. "I want Az."

"Very well," Vale said.

Sickness swept through her, making her body pliable as Bastian gently laid her on the bed, tugging the sheets up to her chin. She felt him as he held himself over her, breathing her in, before he pulled away.

Az took her, then, his heavy arm lying over her side as he pulled her into him, her back flush against his chest as she lay on her side. Small and safe in his arms.

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