Page 178 of A Dance of Water

His wings cut through the sharp rain, leading him past the castle’s outer defenses, past the stationed archers and guards lining the entryways.

Finally, he saw a balcony, a few blossoming flowers decorating it. The double glass doors were cracked open, allowing her scent to carry on the wind.

Midair, the raven shifted—black, silky feathers giving way to skin and the dark fabric of a cloak as Graves landed lightly on the balcony.

He breathed in deeply and pushed open the cracked doors, parting the fluttering curtains as he entered Luella’s room.

Her scent was everywhere, on everything. Strawberries, ripe and coated in light, creamy sweetness. But deeper, he found it tinged with desperate sickness. They had been gone for two days, and the mourning period would finally see an end come tomorrow. Had she been taken care of while they were away?

The canopy around her bed fluttered from the misted breeze that blew in from the balcony doors.

He shoved his cowl down, leaving his hood on—he felt at home in the shadows. He wondered what she would think, to wake up and see him standing by her bed, watching, as he often did.

There were two forms on either side of her. He stepped closer, careful to keep each footfall whisper quiet.

Parting the soft swaths of her canopy, she was revealed to him fully. Nestled amongst piles of silks and soft, downy pillows. But that was not what gave him pause.

The demon and Bastian were wrapped around her. She slept soundly between them. Her head was pillowed on Azgorath’s large chest, her hand stretching out over the sheets, held by the vampire. Graves followed the line of her arm, up the soft curve of her shoulder, taking in her pale, moon-touched skin and white hair.

How had they not seen it?

She was the Princess of Luna.

Amber eyes narrowed as they met his. The demon pressed a finger to his lips, entreating Graves to be quiet.

Graves gritted his jaw and poked Bastian’s shoulder with a gloved finger.

He felt like his skin would tear apart if he didn’t have her.

Bastian cracked open an eye, speaking in Graves’s mind.How did it go?

Not right now,Graves sent back.Let me have her.

Bastian regarded him but eventually extricated himself from Luella.

For a brief moment, Graves stared at Bastian, hoping he had already taken the information from his mind. He wasn’t sure he would be able to say the words.

Those words, echoing all around him

Princess—

OfLuna…

Graves looked away.

He lay down by her side. She held something dark to her chest, and he cocked his head—oh. The cloak he had given her right before he had left.

She was sleeping with it.

Bastian must have said something to the demon, for he pressed a careful kiss to her crown, his horns casting long shadows in the dim light. And then, he too, pulled away from her.

Graves barely registered their departure.

He tugged his gloves off to hold her with his bare hands. Her silky white blindfold perfectly complemented her pale skin. The glass doors to the balcony let in the thick roar of falling rain, and the swift-moving storm clouds revealed a hint of moonlight, just enough to brush across her skin in thin strips.

Their Vincire was the Princess of Luna.

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