Page 279 of A Dance of Water

The Binding mark pulsed.

And she was forced to continue, caged by his demands:

"I’m thinking of why I h-have… t-them." She stumbled and tripped over her words as she spoke. "Why? After all this time? Why now… why me?" Her eyes burned, and the music of the orchestra turned from a slow melody to a swift reckoning—but their steps stayed the same. They were dancing to a song of their own.

Overhead, lightning flashed in dazzling streaks, lighting up Vale’s face as he stood before her.

The crowd cheered; the air was thick with sensuality and the promise of a storm, feeding into their charged revelry.

Vale did not look away from her, slowly stretching an arm out to the side as he led her in a slow, lazy circle, caressing the length of her arm as he brought her back into his hold. Her wings fluttered. The music thinned to a melody of anticipation.

The added height of her heels put her head right under his chin. All she would have to do is lean up, tilt her head, and?—

"Let me tell you a story," Vale said.

"A story?" Luella shook her head. "I do not have time for your games any longer, Vale." She felt like her time was running out. Every drip of the glamored blood at her back, every flutter of her wings, every rumble of thunder and crack of lightning—sand running through the thin neck of an hourglass. Building toward something.

Something she didn’t think she could stop, even if she wanted to.

And Luella felt as though, perhaps, she did not want to stop it.

Not this time.

Whatever was coming on the winds of the water, the King and his court had earned.

They deserved this storm.

"Darling, you love my games, do not lie to me or yourself," said the dragon shifter. He dipped his chin, lifting the back of his hand to her face. Hovering, like he was afraid to touch her. His hand ghosted over the curve of her cheekbone, grazing the sides of the feathers of her mask. "Centuries upon centuries ago, there was a fae Prince," Vale started.

She was trapped in his arms on the dance floor, nowhere to run—if she even could run. Whatever games he was going to play now, she would be forced to endure.

"He was said to be betrothed to a fae Princess of an opposing kingdom. Instead of marrying her, the fae Prince ran away. No one knows how or where, but he met another. Not a fae, but an angel. Her wings were pure white. The Prince and the angel fell in love and married in secret. Only when they were bound did they return to his home to receive the blessing of his parents, the King and the Queen. They did not agree, but pious as the fae are, they could not go against the sacred union of fae marriage."

"Vale." Luella’s voice wobbled. "Vale, don’t. Don’t say it."

Five quick strikes of lightning in close succession—just like the threads in her chest, tugging on her soul.

"Let me finish." His grip tightened. "In time, the Prince became the King. And his bride became the first fae Queen who was not fae. And they had a child," Vale said, with such reverence and knowledge that it chilled her to the bone.

Was this still a game? Or something… more.

"A half fae, half angel child." The King’s green eyes grew dark with emotion. "The first ever," he finished.

And Luella…

She couldn’t breathe.

The air was still and quiet; sounds echoed around her. The orchestra and cheers abated, growing dim, until all she could focus on was the King before her and the words in her head.

It felt like a moment of peace before violence. The pause in the symphony before the crescendo.

"What…" She couldn’t take a full breath. Her white hair fluttered around her face as she shook her head. "What kingdom did… did this King rule?" Her addled brain tried to remember—had she ever heard of such a thing in her studies?

But Luella was coming to realize that she had been spoon-fed information to best serve the kingdom of Solis. Everything she knew was a lie.

Everything.

"Luna," Vale murmured. "It was the King and Queen of Luna."

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