Page 10 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)
LESS THAN SAVORY
THAREN
T haren watched the Princess as she sat, despondent and quiet. He missed her fire, as softly burning as it had been. He would take anything except this dull thing that sat before him.
He couldn’t help but feel like it was their fault.
Even if her whole existence had been written before any of them had ever been born.
But fuck it. The mage would do it all again if it meant he could see her with his own two eyes and smell that enticing scent of fresh berries.
He tapped a tanned finger against the top of the table, drawing their eyes to him—one set a magnificent blue.
Luella was stunning. She had been before, but what once was a golden sunshine sort of beauty, was now untouchable and cool. Just like her shift in demeanor.
"A little celebration for the little lamb," Tharen taunted. "You should let loose. Have fun." He swallowed down a laugh. Fun and her did not mix.
Shut up. You’ll only scare her , Bastian spoke into his mind.
Tharen ignored him. She could do with a little scaring.
He used the link the vampire had established to whisper back a response. How else can we distract her from what the Solstice entails?
By telling her the truth… Bastian’s words echoed in Tharen’s mind. The vampire had been none too silent about his stance on the Solstice.
The truth is overrated.
And with that, Bastian shut down their link, slamming an invisible barrier back down between them. Tharen laughed aloud at being able to rile up the Advisor.
Luella had not looked away from him. He held her stare, the corner of his mouth stretching up in a deranged half-grin. "Like what you see, Princess?"
Her chest rose with a sharp inhale. He watched the way the neckline of her blue gown grew taut with the action. Her skin was so pale—she no longer had that beautiful, healthy glow, as short-lived as it had been with her stint trapped underground, then in her little gilded cage.
Vale rolled his eyes, the scent of burning smoke wafting throughout the room. That pissed Tharen off. It meant he couldn’t scent his little lamb. He wanted to snap the dragon’s neck for cutting off his drip feed of her .
The mage never did well with having his things held back from him.
Vale’s green eyes burned. He knew what Tharen was thinking. The King had known his Prima long enough to know that when he grew silent, it was dangerous for everyone.
"As I was saying"—Vale’s jaw clenched, and he pointed a finger right at Tharen, a demand to stay silent—"the Solstice. In three days, Serpentis will be transformed. We will be having a celebration that spans eight days. The official celebration lasts for a week’s time, but we start with a…
little ceremonial tradition we shifters have. "
Tharen snorted but didn’t speak. He had pissed off Vale enough for the day—and it was only morning.
"Nothing to be concerned about, pet." Bastian carded his hand through Luella’s hair. White spilled through his pale, elegant fingers.
Jealousy ate at Tharen’s insides.
"A little party, a little wine, a little Rys, and some less than savory night activities. Perfect for you, no?" Tharen couldn’t stop himself.
Luella shook her head, uttering a matter-of-fact, "No. "
He smiled. She was so different. He wanted to crack that hardened shell that she had woken up with. He wasn’t sure if it was a product of her newly awakened power. Or anger at all their deceit.
Tharen would have fun chipping away at the edges of her armor.
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