Page 237 of A Dance of Water

"But how will they know?" Luella’s head hurt from the influx of information—the schemes that had been transpiring without her knowledge. To think, this had all been planned, while she had been worrying herself to sickness over what she would be forced to endure.

But was she free now?

A gleam in their eyes told her that she was not.

"We are in the Temples of the gods," Tharen proclaimed. "The gods know all."

Out of the corner of her eye, as if to expound his statement, a glimmer of something beckoned. She gasped, whipping her head to the side, only to find a shimmer of prismatic light dancing along the stone floors. She caught her reflection in the mirrors set into the wall. Her eyes were too big for her face, her skin leached of all color.

The King and the Prima were quite the sight as they crowded before her. One golden and proud, the other battle-forged with stark white hair and thick tattoos.

"I don’t understand," she stammered. "How am I to… to dothiswith our bargain?" Her eyes flicked between Tharen and Vale as she spoke; though, the question was directed to the mage.

"You still have to bring yourself to pleasure, but it will not be with me," said Vale. "When we started preparations for the Solstice, I knew without a doubt, my dragon would choose you. He had imprinted on you from the moment he first saw you. But I knew I could not—would not—force you. So, I planned to make you believe I would. Fear is a powerful thing, and your fear is so, so prominent, unable to be hidden. Perfect to trick everyone into thinking you were merely the stolen Princess of Solis. They can never know we are Vincire."

The King finally released her wrist but lifted a strand of her white hair in his hands, running it through his fingers as he finished speaking:

"But darling, you dug your own grave when you gave up your pleasure to Tharen."

Luella knew now—she was not free. Far from it. The implicationswoven into his words shook her to her core. The heavy feeling that had clung to her since she entered the room grew in intensity, crushing her. The flames in the room flickered. In her periphery, glimmers danced—every time she searched for it, they disappeared, toying with her. Playful.

This was more than her power.

Much more.

And so familiar.

"That’s why you were so angry when you found out about our bargain," she whispered.

Vale’s lip twitched. "Among other things."

Tharen huffed a quiet laugh.

She needed to sit down. Her limbs felt weak; the rush of adrenaline that had kept her going since they started their journey to the Temples left her, and she was reeling and exhausted, pulled back and forth. With a soft noise, she stumbled to sit on the altar behind her. The stone was hard and cold, unforgiving.

The dragon shifter’s green eyes turned dark as he stared down at her. His pupils grew elongated, but he blinked, and it was gone. She was realizing that Vale struggled with controlling his beast far more often than he let on.

She sighed, knowing their answer before she asked, "What happens now?"

"That is up to you," Vale murmured. "You can try to please yourself by your own hand like I had first planned?—"

Tharen cut him off, impatience lining his severe features. "I doubt you’ll get far. But don’t say we didn’t try. Because we did. We tried everything we could think of to work around our deal."

"The string," she realized. "That’s why you tied our wrists."

Tharen nodded. "It didn’t work. So I doubt that sitting next to you will work, either. It seems we’re at an impasse, little lamb." He shoved her thighs apart with his knee, stepping between them. Her lower stomach clenched. "Of your own making, might I add." His voice was rough as he stared at her.

This was never going to end, was it? She had been backed into a corner, and it was partly her fault. She had not realized what awaited her when she first struck the bargain with the Prima. She hadthought herself strong, able to resist temptation. But she was realizing just how weak she was.

She swallowed, mind drifting to Az, how good his lips had felt against hers—Bastian, the way he had kissed her so passionately; Graves and his quiet consuming of her. The mage before her had even tasted her lips, but she had been so overcome in the throes of her power that she barely remembered it.

What would it be like…

…To let him taste her again?

Absently, she wet her lips.

Would it be so terrible to just… get it over with? This bargain would never go away, not until she gave him what she had promised. She would never be able to find solace in Az—not truly. Never be able to explore that tingling feeling between her thighs, not without tumbling onto Tharen’s lap.

---