Page 233 of A Dance of Water

From her lips, spilled the secrets he so desperately desired:

"Caliban, on the shore of a beautiful lake. He haunts me. His screams, the echoes of his pleas mingling with hers?—"

Vale stilled. "Her? In these visions, someone else is there?"

She nodded, so wrapped up in the recount of her dreams that she seemed to forget whom she lay with, for she grew lax next to him.

"A human girl. She is—was—pretty." As Luella spoke, her words grew strained. "Until h-he killed her. I cannot stop dreaming about it. More than any other vision, that one plagues me the most."

All at once, the air left his lungs. "Killed her?" He did not understand. "Caliban told me his human lover left him after she was unfaithful. He was brokenhearted. Served him right for trying to love." At Luella’s wide eyes, Vale realized he was speaking aloud… "That godsdamned lyingbastard. What else?"

Her teeth dug into her bottom lip as she tried to hold the words back, a pained whimper escaping her.

"Now, Luella."

On a ragged exhale, she said, "He drowned her. In a lake. They were… t-together"—she blushed—"but their tryst turned sinister, and shadows bloomed from the ground and dragged her to the water. She cried for help. But he did not listen."

Caliban had lied to him. His human lover didn’t run off with some simple man… He had grown jealous and murdered her.

Liar, liar.

Find him. Burn him.

Kill.

"That h-hurts," Luella stuttered. Vale realized he was holding herso tightly that his nails cut into her supple flesh, leaving indents on her easily marred, pale skin.

His fingers released her, one by one. He was too consumed by thoughts of vengeance. Fury.

Smoke tinged the air. In the distance, the faintest voices, so light he knew the fae would not hear it, for even his own ears strained to make out the sounds—the Temple Mothers were coming. It was almost time. His heart clenched, and he ached with desire, knowing it would be soon that they would convene at the altar…

"What else did you see?" the King demanded, words stilted; it was becoming harder to articulate.

His dragon roared inside him, growing louder and louder. Incessant notions and desireful whims of taking her, but even deeper, the sting of betrayal, the worry that he would be betrayed again, somehow—by the naive Princess in his arms.

Love was weak. It was what made Caliban desperate for a savior, desperate for salvation from the wrong god. If Vale gave his heart to his Vincire, he could face the same fate. So he would not. He kept it under lock and key, shoved deep inside him, even deeper than his dragon.

Luella’s words were strained, forced from her lips: "It was always the same dream, repeated over and over and over again. Always at the lake, or the forest that bordered it. Visions of them… lying together, playing together. He was sweet, once, until he wasn’t. Vale"—he looked down at her at the sound of his name—"what happened to Caliban? What made him so wicked? How does he control the shadows?"

"I already told you—he prayed to the gods, but the wrong one answered."

"That doesn’t make anysense," she started. "The gods no longer impart miracles. Is that not true?"

"Your fae gods, perhaps." Vale struggled to infuse calm into his tone. "But the gods of the shifters are as sentient as you and I. They show up when they deign it so."

His words were growing garbled. The dragon shook the bars of his cage, desperate to be letout?—

Vale jerked himself away from her and stumbled from the bed, the sheet ripping off her body and tangling with his legs as he stood.

"Gods." He squeezed his eyes shut, shoving his fist into his eyes.

Find him. Kill him!

Before he kills what is ours.

Take her, take her, take her, take her, ta?—

"Shut the fuck up!" Vale roared, turning and sweeping his arm out violently.

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