Page 249 of A Dance of Water

Az wrangled an arm around Vale’s waist to keep him from getting to Tharen and Lu.

A thick heat radiated from the dragon as he snarled. Az hissed in pain, but didn’t let go.

"He’s never been this bad before." Bastian tried to wrap his arm around Vale’s neck, but the godsdamned dragonbithim. "Gods."

And they couldn’t hurt each other because of how they were bound to Lu.

The mountain continued to rumble and shake with tremors. Az still didn’t know if it was because of Luella or the fury etched into the sheer volume of the dragon shifter’s roars.

"Put him to sleep."

Bastian and Az both turned to Graves, whose eyes were wide, constantly drifting to Luella and the feathered wings on her back, dripping with her blood. His skin was so pale that the faded line of his scar was all but gone.

Vale bucked, and they struggled to keep hold of him.

"What?" Bastian asked.

"Put him to sleep," Graves repeated. "He’s not going to win against his dragon—not now. His mate is in harm. He wants to kill the threat."

Understanding rippled over Az. "Not a bad idea."

"Not exactly a good one, either," Bastian stressed. "Weneedhim."

"Do you have a better one?" If anyone else had said it, Az would’ve thought they were being sarcastic, but Graves’s question was deadly serious.

Bastian’s lips curled, revealing the sharp tips of his fangs. "No," he said. And then, without ceremony, the King dropped in a heap onto the stone floor.

Asleep, like the dead.

Az hissed at the bubbling red marks on his forearms and palms.The healing process would be painful as his body sped through regenerating layers of his skin.

But he didn’t care.

With the threat of the dragon out of the way, all three males turned to Luella and Tharen.

The mountains still shook. Dust rained down on them all—that answered Az’s question of who was to blame for the tremors.

In a daze, the demon found himself standing by Lu, a hand hovering over her flayed open, bloody back. He ducked as a chunk of rubble fell from the ceiling.

"She has to stop this," said Graves, still staring at her wings.

"Prima," Az seethed, "what the fuck happened?"

The rumbling was growing dimmer. In the moments of silence between tremors, the sound of Luella’s wheezing breaths filled the room. Each one laced in pain. It lanced down their bond, ripping through him like the pain was his own.

He reached out to touch her shoulder, but Graves gripped his wrist and stopped him at the last moment. "Don’t touch her. She’s sensitive right now."

Az growled. "Do not tell me what to do with my Vincire."

Graves didn’t look at him, voice quiet as he said, "Not yours, alone. The pain in her body is unimaginable. Her nerves are hyper-aware. Even the air on her back will feel like she’s being flayed alive." He finally looked at Az. "I’m asking you"—Graves swallowed—"not to touch her."

Az’s hand fell back to his side.

Rivulets of red dripped down the stone, mingling with the white petals of the roses that had bloomed around the base—her doing, Az knew instinctively. The vines of the plants tangled up the sides, wrapping around her body and Tharen’s legs.

Bastian touched Tharen’s shoulder. The mageflinchedaway, head jerking up to the three of them.

"She—" Tharen shook his head. "She just…"

---