Page 168 of A Dance of Water

What if she wanted to be in danger? If it meant escape, she could do it. She could trick Bastian into a kiss, let herself be stolen away wherever Tharen was. Truly escape. Just as the thought formed, she quickly dashed it away. Not without Az. And even if she were to escape, she could not run from destiny.

"Where will you go?" She leaned forward, bracing herself with a palm against the tabletop before her. The position forced her backside to push into Tharen’s lap, and he groaned low.

Oh.

Luella promptly straightened, feeling sparks course throughout her. Tharen’s breathing was steady, but hers wasn’t.

"Medius," Vale proclaimed, breaking her out of her stupor. Before she could prod with more questions, he cut her off with a sharp, "And that is all you are allowed to know."

The Binding mark pulsed, and her mouth snapped shut.

Every word that followed from the King’s lips made the mark throb in time with the intense feelings inside her:

"Furthermore, you will not be allowed to feel desire while they are gone."

Her hand shot up to touch her chest, feeling a warmth emanate from the tattoo.

"You do not trust me?" she whispered, cradling her chest.

"No, I don’t trustthem," Vale enunciated.

Bastian’s low chuckle filled the room. "As you should."

Az’s indignant growl echoed the vampire’s words.

"If she is touched, she will feel pain as her Binding mark forces her to fight against desire. The demon does not want her to be in pain, and even you, Bastian, wouldn’t force her into a situation that hurts her," Vale said.

"But—" she started, feeling five sets of eyes burn againsther. "But if you can order me to not f-feel that way… can you not order me to ignore the bargain I made with Tharen?"

The mage’s hands tightened even harder on her waist. He clicked his tongue. "Doesn’t work that way, lamb. No one can stop a blood vow. A little loophole, sure. But not forever."

Luella swallowed. Suddenly, he was stifling against her. Her future loomed over her like the point of a dagger.

Graves spoke low. "Before the mourning period is over, we will return."

"Don’t miss me too much," Tharen taunted in her ear.

"We will take good care of her," said Bastian.

Vale’s voice broke through the sensual tension. "That’s what I’m worried about."

Evening was fast approaching, and Luella worried her bottom lip.

The rustle of pages made her shiver, and her hands brushed along rows of shelves, feeling dust tickle against her fingertips as she felt her way further into the library.

"Need help, pet?" Bastian said from behind her.

Jolting, she turned her head, searching for him. "N-no. I can manage."

I don’t think so,he whispered.

She shivered anew from the feel of him inside her head, wrapping her borrowed cloak tighter around her—not borrowed, but forced upon her. Before Graves and Tharen had left, the raven shifter had wrapped his thick cloak around her, concealing her thin gown. His scent enveloped her; even now, she resisted the urge to bury her face in the folds of the fabric to inhale whiffs of honeyed cloves. Tharen had imparted no tangible gifts upon her before his leave, merely a sharply ordered demand—behave.

Her temples pounded, low and persistent. She hated how dependent her body had become on her captors. Only two days. She could get through this.

And tonight… she would be forced to share her bed again. Anxious excitement unfurled in her gut. She had been too loopy to relish in the feel of Az wrapped around her last night; she wanted to be present the second time.

For now, she refocused on the self-imposed task before her: finding a history of all Prima mages.