Page 30 of A Dance of Water

Godsdammit. His blood flowed in his veins for her, alone, now. She owned every beat of his heart, and she didn’t even realize it. He hated her, but he had to have her.

Have her,echoed the dragon.

The King had been called to the Princess before her awakening, but once she had awoken and her power had risen to the surface… Vale had never felt such a pull to someone in his entire existence.

A gloved hand pressed against his elbow. He looked up to find Graves staring at him with keen intent. "Are you okay?" the male asked.

Vale nodded, swallowed, then uttered a soft, "I am trying to be."

The Knight sat back against his chair, shaking his head quietly as though he understood. If the way Vale had found small black feathers outside the Princess’s balcony was any indication, he knew that the maledidunderstand.

He had his own temptations and urges, just as Vale did.

They all did.

The sound of the double doors opening nearly jolted him from his seat.

Bastian and Azgorath entered the advisory room with a cloud of severity hanging over them.

Sickly strawberries and not-quite curdled cream stuck to their skin.

"What happened?" the King demanded. He rose from his chair so swiftly that it nearly clattered to the ground.

Graves stared at him knowingly. They all needed a release—either violence or pleasure. They couldn’t keep going on like this.

Vale ran a hand through his hair, tousling the strands.

"She’s fine, everything’s fine," Bastian said; though, the vampire seemed to be reassuring himself just as much as the rest of them.

Azgorath seethed, pacing along the length of the room with heavy steps. "She’snotfine." The demon pointed at Bastian before swinging his hand to gesture to Vale, then Graves and Tharen, forcing them each under an accusatory finger and even more accusatory amber eyes. "She’s not fine, and you know it. She’s changed… different. I’m scared for her."

Bastian looked frazzled, scrubbing a hand over his jaw and smoothing over the front of his shirt. He did not argue with the demon.

The Advisor’s silence spoke volumes.

The King settled back in his chair with agitation nipping at his heels. He barely stopped himself from fleeing from the room and going to her. The only thing giving him pause was that if she were truly hurt, Bastian would have used his Mind magic to call them. He wouldn’t be standing before Vale.

The bond was a steady and constant thrum in his chest—Valewasn’t sure what it would be like if she were in danger, but he hoped that, perhaps, it would alert him.

"Tell me," Vale ordered, "what happened."

Bastian took his seat, but the demon remained pacing.

"You could do with a good fight, beast," Tharen taunted, kicking up a booted foot on the edge of the table.

Bastian sighed heavily and reached over to knock it back to the floor. He was particular about the cleanliness of his advisory room.

Azgorath bared his teeth in answer to the mage. "Are you volunteering?"

"Obviously. I don’t think I could fuck someone without thinking of her"—his lips curled in disgust—"so fighting it is. And you certainly won’t lay with anyone. It’s been, how long?" the Prima taunted. Growls filled the room, and Graves’s fingers curled into the edge of the table, ready to jump in if the two came to blows. "A male can only do with the company of his hand for so long before he snaps. Let’s hope the Princess knows what she’s in for by then."

And…

That certainly did it.

Azgorath snapped under Tharen’s purposeful goading, the demon surging forward with amber eyes flashing and hands curled into fists.

Tharen jolted out of his seat, poised to fight.

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