Page 21 of A Dance of Water

She met his amber eyes, and his fingers flexed against the bars as he stared at her newness, her white hair and blue eyes and pale skin.

"I-I don’t know."

He nodded, resigned, as though that was exactly the answer he had been expecting. "Tell me one thing. Is there even a chance?"

Luella had learned to never say never—things were always changing, shifting. You could wake up one morning, and your world could be ripped apart. She should know, after all. It had happened to her.

She did not want to speak, afraid her voice would give her away. She stared at the lines on his skin. She could not,wouldnot, be the cause of any more pain.

"It’s different," she remarked. "On this side of the bars." She gently removed her pinky from his, but her entire body grew cold without that one singular touch.

Az sighed, resting his forehead on the bars. The tip of his horns poked through, and she wanted to reach up and touch, trace the shape of them, and dig her fingers into the sharp points until blood spilled.

Stop. No more violent thoughts!

She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her.

"You’re prettier on the outside of these bars, Lu. You were not made to be caged."

Az was a sight to behold, a fearsome thing, trapped and yearning.

He was not made to be caged, either.

"I will get you out of here," she vowed.

Anger swelled within her, a storm of violence, and Luella left before she could turn that raging tempest on him.

It was silent between her and the King as they retraced their steps out of the dungeons.

And she did not break that silence until they had climbed every swirling step and the door slammed shut behind them.

Now, in the throne room, it was dark with the night sky that filtered in through the glass dome of the roof.

Above ground, she could easily hear the thunderous roar of the rain as it beat down. She tipped her head back, watching the dark, thick mass of clouds as they converged overhead.

The King watched her, taking the few short steps down to the center of the throne room as he held out a hand, waiting for her to come to him.

"So, you will not forgive him, then?" King Vale asked.

Luella had the urge to ask how he knew, but then she remembered he had heard the whole conversation with his keen senses. "I told him the truth." She walked to him but did not take his outstretched palm. "I… don’t know."

She had much more to be worried about than her forgiveness. Az could not stay there any longer. She feared what he would become. Now, it was time for the hard part: to ask the King for what she desired.

Those green eyes burned her skin, taking in her exposed legs and tracing over her slim shoulders before resting upon her pale, soft face. She stepped closer, her chest almost brushing his, and he stared down at her, nostrils flaring. The call thrummed a happy little song from their proximity as though it was rejoicing in their flirting brushes of skin.

"Do you…" She swallowed thickly. Would she ever be able to speak without faltering in their presence? "Do you feel it, too?"

King Vale knew what she was speaking of. "Yes, Luella." He paused as if he could sense the tenderhearted wish that lingered on the tip of her tongue.

"Free him," she finally blurted.

He arched a golden blonde brow, staring down at her. "Why?"

"Can it not be simply because he doesn’t deserve this fate?"

The King rubbed a hand over his jaw, considering her.

Her tones were dulcet, but he was unwavering.

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