Page 27 of A Dance of Water

BLOODY TEMPTATIONS

BASTIAN

Bastian stared down at Luella as she was halfway in his lap. He took the teacup from her fingers before it could spill and placed it on the small table by his side, setting his own cup down, too.

With his hands free, the vampire wrapped both arms around the small, slight heirus Princess and pulled her gently on top of his lap. Her head rested on his cool chest, and he lamented the fact that he was not warm like the demon at his side. He wanted to be warm for her.

Azgorath grumbled as Luella was taken away from him, but Bastian shot the demon a droll look and curled his hands around her slim shoulders as he settled her more comfortably atop him, arranging her limbs just so.

"Has she—" Azgorath’s voice broke off. "Has she been sleeping okay?"

Bastian stared down at Luella, where she was cradled to his chest. The skirts of her gown had rucked up from his handling of her, and he eyed her pale, milky skin with a thick tongue and dry mouth. He wondered if that moon-touched glow could be followed up her pale thighs, over the slight swell of her chest.

Fuck.Think of different thoughts.

She was on his lap for all the sake of the gods. He couldn’t get hard with heronhim—even if the thought was tempting.

"Advisor," Azgorath hissed from his side, careful not to raise his voice too loudly with the sleeping Princess in their midst.

"Yes." Bastian thought of Tharen’s wolves as they tore into meaty hunks of flesh while red blood coated their maws. There, that should do it.

Wait, no. Now, he was just thinking of blood with her on his lap.

He shifted and adjusted himself as imperceptibly as he could.

"Has she been sleeping well?" Azgorath gritted his teeth and reached up to tangle his long, thick fingers in Luella’s white tresses. He tugged her head back, his knuckles growing white from his harsh grip, but his handling of her was gentle—it always was. And her head fell back onto the demon’s shoulder, exposing the long, pale, untouched line of her throat.

Bastian thought of boring things. War meetings and talks of politics…

He relaxed slightly.

"No," he answered the demon, softly reaching up to brush a whisper of touch across the bridge of her nose and up to her temples. Her brow furrowed slightly in her sleep. He wondered what she was dreaming of.

"I’m worried about her," Azgorath revealed.

Bastian nodded. "I am, as well. She’s not herself. Not since her awakening…" He watched her eyes as they moved behind her closed lids, and he wondered what sights plagued her.

"The weather," Azgorath started. "It is because of her, isn’t it?"

"Yes. She hasn’t put the pieces together yet, but I fear what her reaction will be once she does. How she will handle it… We’re waiting for all that power to explode."

Azgorath’s hands curled tighter in her hair, and he leaned down to run his nose along her ear, breathing her in with wild intensity. "How can we stop it?"

"I do not think we can. That kind of power—it is not made for a singular being, let alone someone like her. She is too small, too weak." Bastian brushed a finger over the dark circles under her eyes, the only mark of imperfection on her skin.

"Bastian, do you think she could ever forgive me?" Azgorath didnot look at Bastian, and the vampire grew curious about what was simmering inside the demon’s mind.

Instinctively, he allowed his Mind magic to trickle into Azgorath’s head, invisible little fingers prying open the door to his mind as he peeked inside.

He was hit with a barrage of possession, just as he had been before.

Forgive me, Lu.

My beautiful angel. I could not live without you.

Her skin. Her scent. Strawberries. Need it all.

And a litany of discordant images and dreams floated to him like wisps of clouds. Luella, splayed on her back, with Azgorath looming above her, large hands skimming down her stomach and between her thighs… Her, asleep in bed with golden blonde hair and skin that was becoming leached of all color as he leaned forward and pressed a secret, stolen kiss to her chapped but rosy lips…

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