Page 51 of A Dance of Water

Warm, small, and safe; his dragon was almost tricked, lulled into a soft quiet as he grew contented to watch from his cage.

Vale breathed deeply.

Luella’s natural scent seeped into everything. More intoxicating than the strongest of oils.

She stood at the edge of the room with a quivering bottom lip as she watched him.

"You’re so tense," Vale commented. "I won’t harm you. Why would I go to the trouble of a ceremony just to drown you in a bath?"

The question was rhetorical, but she still responded with a quiet, "I don’t begin to understand the way your sick mind works."

His dragon grew amused, long onyx tail snapping back and forth with glee. Vale strode to the large mirror inlaid against the stone wall. His golden hair was in the slightest of disarray, like even it feared to anger him with anything less than perfection. Green eyes glinted, and he swept his sights to the spot behind him, where the Princess stood in his periphery in a haunting image.

She was utterly bewitching.

And he was utterly fucked.

Like the shiny jewels his dragon hoarded, he wanted to take her, lock her up, and only bring her out when he wanted something captivating to look at…

She would be pleasing draped in rubies,the dragon remarked.

"Come closer," Vale called.

She obeyed—because of the Binding mark or because she simply wanted to, he would never know. Her feet softly padded on the stone.

His next inhale granted him the sweet fragrance of rich berries mingling with decadent, thick cream.

So, so fucked.

Without breaking his stare in the mirror, he grabbed her wrist. She let out a sound of protest, but her limbs were malleable. Shewantedto be handled. She was begging for direction.

Vale moved her to stand in front of him, and his chest pressed flush to her back. He skimmed his hands up her sides, relishing inthe slight tremble to her limbs. Those barbed words, yet she remained a fearful little thing.

He clutched her small waist as he pulled her closer to him, and he grabbed her chin, forcing her head up to the mirror.

"Look at you," Vale whispered in her ear as he watched their reflection. Gold and white. Sun and moon. He ghosted a finger over a pure white strand, entranced. "Like moonlight. Your hair is opal, and your eyes are sapphire."

Blame his dragon for all the jewel talks…

Vale tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear, and her eyes followed the movement. He pressed his palm right over her heart; through the fabric of her gown, her skin was like ice.

Slowly, he peeled away the neckline of her gown, and her Binding mark was revealed in all its twisted glory.

The skin around it was slightly red, but the bandages had been removed. What good would it do to keep the mark covered when its very purpose was to speak of his ownership of her—hisclaimof her?

Vale pressed his palm harder against her chest, forcing a wince from her lips.

"This is mine." Still gripping her chin, he forced her to stare at herself, at the brand on her pale flesh. She struggled, trying to look down, but he refused her this. She would look; he willed her to, so she must. In a sudden burst of wretched clarity, Vale decided to allow her to struggle, his hands going slack, even while he ordered, "Look at yourself."

The soft sounds of her struggling turned pained.

A hiss between her teeth, her small body bucking against his. "S-stop it!"

Vale tsked. "I am the one who makes the orders here. See what happens when you disobey me?" He spanned his fingers over her chest. "This mark forces you to obey my will. Usually, the Chosen enjoy being at the whim of the King. But not you…"

"Never me," she nearly spat. Her struggling stilled, and she stared at the tattoo on her chest. The candlelight in the bathing chambers cast her in warm amber, and it made the innocuous mark on her skin seem all the more harrowing.

Vale stared at the Binding mark. Three intersecting circles, with a perfect cut down the center.

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