Page 92 of A Dance of Water

All the demon could see was a strip of Graves’s eyes, nothing more.

Graves called his bluff. "Take it, then."

Az’s lips pulled back from his teeth.

"And risk her," said Graves.

"I suppose it would put the little lamb in danger, beast, but if you want…" Tharen inclined his head.

They both knew this act was a hoax.

"Fuck," Az snarled and pulled away, ripping his hand off Graves’s amulet. His palm was hot from touching it, and he flexed his large hand.

He couldn’t remove the amulet from Graves’s neck, not if he wanted his angel safe…

Az ached to get back to her, sleeping soundly as he avenged her.

"Are you done?" Bastian announced as he walked into the dungeons, Vale right behind him.

The pair took in the destruction of Lu’s attacker. His eyes were closed as he hung from the ceiling, unknowing or uncaring that his death was quickly approaching.

"Gods." Bastian’s eyes glowed red at the scent of blood. "It appears as though you three had a good time."

Vale stepped over a puddle of piss and blood. "You got the information?" he asked Graves.

The Knight nodded once.

"Very well," Vale said. "Kill him. We’ll string his body up near the Luna border."

Az intervened, voice low and dangerous. "I get to kill him."

The King arched a golden brow. "Oh, you do? And who are you to make that determination?"

The demon clenched his bloodied hands into fists—he’d have to bathe before he saw Lu again. "I am the only one of us who has laid his heart bare for her."

Tharen snorted a laugh, kicking a dirtied boot on the captive fae’s shin to jostle him awake. The mage put his face right in front of him, singing, "Wake up, mousy. It’s time to die."

Bastian mouthed, "Mousy?"

Tharen shot back a taunting reply about the captive’s pained squeaks.

Vale and Az ignored their antics, the King looking from the demon back to the ruined body of the male. Detritus, as far as Az was concerned.

To hurt a female, and one as defenseless as Lu… Even savage demons would band together to avenge such an act.

But the demon would not beg, not to Vale and not for this.

Smoke filtered from the King’s nostrils. Time stretched, broken by the occasional pained moan and drip of water as it fell from the ceiling.

Az didn’t know how Vale did it. The demon watched as the dragon shifter visibly wrangled control back, forcing his beast down as the smoke ebbed, the scent of embers faded, and his clenched fists released.

Finally, Vale stepped back, waving a hand to the strung-up sack of meat. Az’s eyes tracked the motion with swelling emotions.

"He’s yours, Azgorath," the King softly decreed.

Bastian’s red eyes swept between them, wide with shock.

Az was never one to turn away a gift as good as vengeance. He cracked his knuckles, arms flexing.

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