Page 255 of A Dance of Water

She tried—she tried. But not thinking about it made them quiver even harder, confined within the bounds of the cloak, every brush against the fabric hurt.

She couldn’t get enough air in her lungs.

"You have to calm down," Graves urged.

"Stop!" Tharen barked.

Hooves pounded against the ground. "You cannot?—"

"Bastian, make her sleep," Graves rasped. "She’s hurting herself."

Wait—

Before she could utter a word, a cool touch on her brow made her fall into dreams. Even there, she could not find peace as Caliban haunted her, visions of his choked pleas as shadows stole him down, down into the belly of the earth.

77

WAS IT REAL?

VALE

Vale’s arms were bound behind his back, and the muscles in his thighs ached from gripping his steed so he wouldn’t fall from the saddle.

Smoke billowed from his mouth with every raging exhale, and a litany of violent images played behind his eyes with every blink.

He shoved the thoughts away.

Do not shift,he warned his dragon.

The beast merely growled in response, raging with protective instincts at the memory of Luella in pain.

Angel wings.

Anangel.

Fuck, Vale didn’t know why they didn’t think of it before.

The Queen of Luna was an angel, and as the Princess of Luna, Luella was half angel, half fae. But why, of all times, did her wings make an appearance after her first climax?

Take,his dragon chanted. The echoed hisses made Vale’s head pound as the beast decided to torture him with recounting the images of her on the altar… The way her head had tipped back, revealing the unmarked skin of her neck—fuck, she would look so perfect with his bite.

Luella’s pale thighs had gripped the mage’s waist so perfectly. Even for a bastard like the Prima, she had been so wet and pliable and trusting, her arousal glimmering on the seat of his pants from howshe had rubbed herself against him. Would she do the same with Vale?

Ours.

He choked on smoke, fingers curling as he strained against his bindings.

"You’re not proving you can be let free."

The words made Vale’s head turn, where the smug vampire rode at his side, red-tinted eyes scouring the trek before them.

The Prima’s Aer magic confined Vale’s arms, swirling air wrapping tightly around him. The tendons in Vale’s neck strained as he flexed his arm muscles. No give.

"You cannot possibly think to keep me here much longer, Advisor," Vale seethed. "My dragon has been dealt with, and now my patience is wearing thin. Do not think I’ve forgotten you used your Mind magic on me in the Temples."

Bastian’s hands tightened on the reins. They both cast a glance behind them, where Luella was bundled on Tharen’s chest. Graves’s cloak was wrapped around her front, falling open slightly at the shoulders, and revealing hints of the slowly healing skin there. But it was a… mess.

Ribbons of skin fell open around the pure angel wings, the feathers tipped in maroon, with drying blood crusted on her moon-touched skin, coating the ends of her white hair. She looked like she had been ripped open and stitched back together haphazardly, dunked in pools of red. And her screams… Gods, they echoed around him. Her pain had numbed as her fae healing took over, combined with Bastian putting her to sleep after she had awoken and been fed by the mage. She was but a dim light inside his soul, and he cursed how far away she felt.

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