Page 33 of A Dance of Water

"And she will not be allowed to fuck," Graves stated without inflection.

Vale had expected that to come from the demon or even the vampire, but not fromhim.

"But if she wants to?" Tharen cajoled.

"We will not be fucking her," Vale asserted. "The prophecy states,the Vincire will be bound, and the Queen will be crowned.We can not risk lying with her and somehow consummating the bond. Not before the other pieces of the prophecy fall into place."

Azgorath’s relieved exhale swept throughout the room. "We can’t fight with her, and she can’t lie with us. How can we help her?"

Tharen shrugged a shoulder. "I don’t know." He said it like he was angry at himself for not having the answer.

Graves cleared his throat; his deep blue eyes spoke of carefully contained secrets. "What about physical touch? Not quite lying with her, but almost?"

The mage hummed. "It could work. Touch is grounding, and since we are Vincire, it could be even more effective."

"Skin-to-skin contact, then?" A slow smile spread over the vampire’s plump lips. "I can do that."

Azgorath’s lip curled as he growled.

Vale nodded in agreement. "We’ll try it. Physical touch, skin-to-skin… It could help ease her anxiety about the Solstice, as well."

"Good," Bastian declared. "We are all in agreement?" The Advisor stared at each being in the room, lastly setting on Vale’s eyes where he sat at the head of the table, fingertips clenching against his thighs, just out of sight, as he worked to control his dragon.

Tharen and Graves both gave a quiet, "Aye."

Azgorath grumbled but dipped his head in reluctant assent.

"I am okay with it." Bastian prodded, "Vale?"

The King clenched his jaw.

Mine, mine, mine,chanted the dragon.

"I agree," Vale said through gritted teeth.

And their meeting was adjourned.

Tharen and Graves went off to do gods knew what—the latter most likely to spy on their little captive. Bastian gave Vale a heavy glance and looked at Azgorath pointedly before he, too, left the advisory room.

Leaving Vale alone with the demon…

The King poked his tongue in his cheek, watching the rippling muscles on Azgorath’s back as he turned to leave, whole body poised to snap as though he was forcing himself to go before he could attack.

Vale deliberated for a moment before sighing. He wanted the demon with him, not against him.

"Az," Vale called, enjoying the look of anger that rose to the demon’s features at the use of the sobriquet. "I will not force her to lie with me. I will have to accompany her inside the temples to not raise suspicions, but I would never force her."

Something in the demon’s face settled at that. Vale wondered if he wanted to be the first to lie with their Vincire.

His dragon hissed and spat flames inside his body at the thought. Possession gripped him in its claws. Vale could not help himself. "But if she is willing and wanting, I will not turn her down."

Take, take, take.

Claim her.

And Vale swiftly left the advisory room, ignoring the demon as he stared sharp daggers at him. His breaths labored as he jogged outof the room, down the dark halls decorated with wintry blue for the Solstice, and right toward the nearest balcony, letting his beast take over before he could even jump off the ledge.

Onyx wings broke free, and the ground grew smaller beneath him, scales overtaking skin as Vale flew throughout the night, not able to contain his dragon any longer with the prospect of being able to claim his captive—hisVincire—soon.

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