Page 169 of A Dance of Water

She recounted the words from her dream, Enora’s pleas to find a female Prima. Then, what she heard in the advisory room—find the prior Prima.

It was a fool’s errand, but something urged her to follow.

From a few paces to her side, Az called out, "I found an account of the fae kingdoms’ monarchies."

Luella shook her head. "But we’re getting closer. It has to be here somewhere." Her voice was soft and hesitant, scared that Bastian would stop this venture before she could chase after her persistent suspicions.

He knew, though. Of course, he did.

She wondered if there was anything the vampire didn’t know, for all his mind thievery.

I know all.Bastian skimmed a cold finger along her nape.I’m good at keeping secrets, pet.

All?she questioned.

"All," the vampire said aloud.

"Why aren’t you stopping me?" Her fingers paused on a spine, tracing over letters etched into the leather.

"What harm could a sightless heirus do?" Bastian said cheekily.

She blew out a sharp breath, feeling her hair rustle.

Az’s hand fell upon her shoulder. "This search will be endless."

She nodded, crestfallen.

"For you, I will search always, Lu."

She took Az’s hand and held it. "Thank you, Az. But you’re right… This isn’t the time." She gestured to her blindfold. "I can be of no help right now."

She missed reading. She had been so caught up with training and sickness and prophecies that she had not had time for books. But now, surrounded by the scent of ink and paper, all she wanted was to grab a novel, curl up by a fire, and lose herself in another place. Though, she could not.

Luella turned to Bastian, searching for him in the darkness. "I do not suppose you’ll help, will you?"

"No, but I will not stop you," he replied.

He had been granting her gifts to earn her forgiveness—would he not grant this, too?

"We will resume the search another time. When I can contribute," she said begrudgingly.

"Of course, Lu," said Az.

She tugged Graves’s cloak tighter around her, breathing in his scent coating it. The pounding in her head only worsened with every passing moment.

"I think you’re due a respite. Come, pet." Bastian took her hand and steered her away from the depths of the shelves.

The air grew less musty as thick collections of shelves gave way to the open portion of the library. The soft trickling from the pools and the steady fall of rain as it beat upon the skylight made her weary bones ache in yearning.

The threads between them were stretched thin. Did Graves and Tharen feel her absence, too?

Bastian’s hands gently forced her down onto a cozy, plush cushion.

The cushion dipped as he sat by her side. Something fuzzy was draped over her lap—a blanket. Her fingers curled in the soft threads, thumbs smoothing over the fabric with melancholy etched into the curve of her mouth.

"What are you thinking of?" Bastian murmured.

What a strange thing to inquire. A vampire with Mind magic, asking of her thoughts?

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