Page 93 of A Dance of Water

He slapped the captive’s cheek, and he let out a soft noise, golden eyes drifting open and growing large with terror as he saw Az before him.

"Please," he wheezed.

Az grabbed the male’s neck and lifted his head. "You’ll look at me when I kill you."

Strands of sweat-soaked, golden hair fell into his eyes—the shade reminded Az so much of Lu that his throat closed up. But no. His angel had white hair now.

"The time to beg has long passed," Vale stated, standing beside the male.

The demon remembered Lu’s nearly crushed windpipe, and he saw nothing butred.

Blood vessels popped in the male’s eyes as Az squeezed his throat.

Harder.

Harder.

Blood leaked from his nose and eyes, dribbling from the corners of his open mouth. Az grinned at the violence. He hadn’t been able to let himself give in for so long. Bone snapped under his hands, and all the light left the male’s eyes.

It was done.

"Have his body dropped at the border of Luna. I’m sure one of the Umbra will find it," Vale said. His tone was tinged with exhaustion. "And send scouts to check on his family. Ensure they are safe. Relocate them to one of our villages if you have to. I don’t want the blood of innocents on our hands."

Graves nodded quickly, leaving the room as cool and silent as he had inhabited it.

Az swallowed thickly at the mention of the male’s family. A cold rush of water swept over the demon; his eyes burned. This was why he hated to be like his kind, to revel in killing and violence.

He was too ruined to lay a hand on his angel. Too tainted to touch something as pure as her.

Do not forget, Az, she knows death, too,Bastian murmured in his mind.

Az shuddered at the intrusion, too focused on the truth of the vampire’s words that he missed the familiar shortening of his name.

She did know death. That was why Az wanted to keep her far away from it.

29

LOSING CONTROL

VALE

Vale stormed down the halls of the dungeons, feet picking up into a run.

Why?his dragon hissed.Why did you let the godsdamned demon kill him?

Vale’s whole body shook as he tried to stave off the imminent shift. At least until he could get to the open air, above ground.

Go. Take what’s ours.

She is not ours!Vale roared back.

His feet pounded on the ground as the stone sloped upward. He took the stairs, winding around and around before slamming against the door. His fingers clumsily grasped the handle, and he fell into the throne room as it opened.

The marble floors were cold. Discarded blue silks lay in heaps. The bodies had been cleared away—the Umbra burned, ashes scattered in the wind; the citizens of Serpentis lay preserved in white sheets, ready for the memorial tomorrow.

But blood still stained the opulence of the room.

The air tasted of violence and death, and his dragon wanted nothing more than to rage at not being able to have their Vincire.

---