Page 198 of A Dance of Water

Growling, Az’s amber eyes held hers as he kissed her softly. "I love you. Always."

"Always."

Luella stood with Az’s help, water dripping from her drenched gown as they stepped out of the bathing pool. The floors were cool under her bare feet, and he wrapped a towel around her, concealing the thinness of her gown as it clung to her curves.

And her protector surrendered her to the one who held her body—and her pleasure—in the palm of his hand.

62

TROUBLED

THAREN

The door to Tharen’s room clicked shut, sealing him withher.

Luella stood in the middle of Tharen’s room, clutching a blanket to her chest. The scent of warm water and lavender soap clung to her, mingling with her natural scent that was ripe and heady with desire. Her wide blue eyes were stuck on him. She had not changed out of her soaked gown after her bath with the demon. Instead, she had grabbed a fluffy dark blanket from where it was draped over the corner of her bed, small hands keeping it tucked under her chin as she followed him silently down the darkened halls and to his room—his sanctuary.

And here she was, standing in the midst of his pristinely tucked beige sheets, stacks of scrolls, and thick books decorating every surface. Glass vials sat upon a table, some filled with brightly colored liquids of his potions. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, an empty pot swinging over it, where he usually mixed up a potion for his insomnia. This night, he would not—not in front of her.

He could bear one sleepless night if it meant he could keep such a weakness concealed from the little lamb.

Tharen’s temples pounded, and with every passing moment—her standing quiet and scared in the middle of his room—he wanted to shake her, and force her to do something—saysomething. React. Anything would be better than this godsdamned quiet.

Luella went along too willingly. There had to be a breaking point. Tharen knew he certainly had one. And it threatened to crack when he watched her behind that sheet, reached out with his Body magic, and heard the racing of her heart and the crinkle of fabric as she kept shifting, trying to find some relief. But she could only find it in his arms. And that seemed like the last place she ever wanted to be.

Tharen wanted her. Fuck it all, he did.

He could say it was mere physical attraction. She was alluring. Small and sweet and perfectly breakable. But he didn’t want to admit anything past that—that it could be more than her body he wanted.

He always had a penchant for rescuing broken things. And she was so, so broken, yearning for a savior, even if she didn’t realize it. He had breathed life back into her after the water had almost taken her from him, and he never wanted to let her slip from his fingers. Ever again.

Tharen huffed a quiet laugh, and the sound made her look toward him, blue eyes wide as she stared. A doe trapped in the sights of a hunter.

He wanted to crack open her head and have every single one of her thoughts pool like blood before his feet.

Wanted her to talk to him, come to him voluntarily.

He might even want her trust…

Maybe.

However, it felt so wonderful to have her fear.

She was making him crazy. That was why he allowed her to see the beast she seemed so fond of, before bringing her to his room. If he hadn’t allowed her that one thing, she would have been sleeping by now. In Tharen’s mind, Bastian had whispered to let her see Azgorath. Not totame the beast,as he had put it. But to soften her up, make her pliant. And reward her.

"Why so quiet, lamb? Don’t want to talk to me like you do with your demon?" Tharen stalked forward, the undone laces of his boots dragging on the ground. He tugged them off, placing them perfectly in their spot near the door. Straightened them.

For all the disarray of his tomes and scrolls, he hated disorganization. Everything had to be in its place.

"I’m confused," Luella whispered; her voice filled his room, coating everything with her unique cadence.

Tharen lifted a metal poker by the fireplace, stoking the flames. "Nothing to be confused about. I want you to sleep with me, and so you will." He turned his head, a braid falling over his shoulder. "So you’re here."

"But… but why?"

Her feet were dug so deep into the wood of his floors, he wondered if she’d grow roots.

The poker clanged as he placed it down. Turning to face her, Tharen could only stare.

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