Page 122 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

DANCE AMONG WATER

LUELLA

F inally, their stilted dance came to a close.

"I will return you to the King."

Luella felt dazed. Bones weary after their dance.

The raven shifter was… strange.

"What?" Luella asked quietly.

"Let me take you to Vale. I know you’re in pain. We all feel it." The last words were the quietest breath of air.

She stumbled all the way to the King’s throne, where Graves stopped behind her, his hands on her shoulders, keeping her upright.

"Vale, she needs?—"

Vale silenced the raven shifter with a wave of his hand. "I will take her from here, Knight. Go back to your place in the shadows."

King Vale stood from his throne, eyes like emeralds shining behind the gold of his mask.

This was all an act, Luella realized. For the benefit of the hungry eyes around them.

The King took her hands, looping her arm through his elbow. "One more, darling," he murmured. "Give me one more show, then you can rest."

Rest. It seemed like a foreign notion to her now.

The crowd parted around them, giving them a wide berth as Vale stopped amid the very center of the throne room—right under the pinnacle of the glass dome over their heads.

She felt them all staring.

"What do we do now?" Luella whispered.

Vale’s hands tightened on hers. "We dance."

Even tired, dancing, she could do. Like second nature to her. Along with dreaming and reading.

As the enchanted embers fell around them like snow, Luella allowed herself to be swept away in the King’s embrace. His right hand was firm on her lower back, just shy of the scorching heat of her wounds; his left hand held her neck possessively, a claim for all to see.

And above them, the turbulent mass of clouds seemed to converge right over the skylight, swirls of air and inky black storm clouds. A tempest of vengeance. A steady formation of raging disbelief, flooded with her pain. Lightning lit up the sky overhead, flashing on their skin.

King Vale’s lashes caught errant dust particles, drifting from their corners and spilling over the sides of his mask like blue, sparkling tears.

"What thoughts are hidden behind your eyes, Princess Luella?"

She was thinking that she wanted the storm to break free. To drown them all, so they would know the weight of her sorrow. That she wanted to pull him closer and press her lips to his, so finally she could see if he tasted like smoke.

That she wanted to pound her fists against his chest and scream to the sky, Why .

Why would you treat me so horribly if I’m meant for you?

Why does it not seem to make a difference?

Why do I still find myself searching for you in the green grass and flickers of jewels set into your golden crown and the eyes of your half-brother, who haunts my dreams?

The weight of her thoughts was startling.

And the weight of her wings pulled her back.

She gasped, hands curling in his shirt.

Vale caught her just in time, carefully lowering her upper body in the lightest of dips, as if that had been his plan all along.

Her neck ached as she fought to keep it upright—then, he lifted her again, bringing her back up to face him .

The King stared deeply into her eyes. "Careful, darling." He reached forward, brushing his fingers over the Binding mark on her chest. She shivered from his touch. "Tell me what you think of."

The mark forced the words from her lips, and as she spoke, he watched her like every word out of her mouth was the answer to some question that had been plaguing him.

"I’m thinking about my wings?—"

A finger pressed over her mouth, his many rings cutting into her supple, rouged lips. Silencing her.

"You will not say that word. Not here."

The Binding mark pulsed.

And she was forced to continue, caged by his demands:

"I’m thinking of why I h-have… t-them." She stumbled and tripped over her words as she spoke.

"Why? After all this time? Why now… why me?

" Her eyes burned, and the music of the orchestra turned from a slow melody to a swift reckoning—but their steps stayed the same.

They were dancing to a song of their own.

Overhead, lightning flashed in dazzling streaks, lighting up Vale’s face as he stood before her.

The crowd cheered; the air was thick with sensuality and the promise of a storm, feeding into their charged revelry.

Vale did not look away from her, slowly stretching an arm out to the side as he led her in a slow, lazy circle, caressing the length of her arm as he brought her back into his hold. Her wings fluttered. The music thinned to a melody of anticipation.

The added height of her heels put her head right under his chin. All she would have to do is lean up, tilt her head, and?—

"Let me tell you a story," Vale said.

"A story?" Luella shook her head. "I do not have time for your games any longer, Vale.

" She felt like her time was running out.

Every drip of the glamored blood at her back, every flutter of her wings, every rumble of thunder and crack of lightning—sand running through the thin neck of an hourglass. Building toward something.

Something she didn’t think she could stop, even if she wanted to.

And Luella felt as though, perhaps, she did not want to stop it.

Not this time .

Whatever was coming on the winds of the water, the King and his court had earned.

They deserved this storm.

"Darling, you love my games, do not lie to me or yourself," said the dragon shifter.

He dipped his chin, lifting the back of his hand to her face.

Hovering, like he was afraid to touch her.

His hand ghosted over the curve of her cheekbone, grazing the sides of the feathers of her mask.

"Centuries upon centuries ago, there was a fae Prince," Vale started.

She was trapped in his arms on the dance floor, nowhere to run—if she even could run. Whatever games he was going to play now, she would be forced to endure.

"He was said to be betrothed to a fae Princess of an opposing kingdom.

Instead of marrying her, the fae Prince ran away.

No one knows how or where, but he met another.

Not a fae, but an angel. Her wings were pure white.

The Prince and the angel fell in love and married in secret.

Only when they were bound did they return to his home to receive the blessing of his parents, the King and the Queen.

They did not agree, but pious as the fae are, they could not go against the sacred union of fae marriage. "

"Vale." Luella’s voice wobbled. "Vale, don’t. Don’t say it."

Five quick strikes of lightning in close succession—just like the threads in her chest, tugging on her soul.

"Let me finish." His grip tightened. "In time, the Prince became the King. And his bride became the first fae Queen who was not fae. And they had a child," Vale said, with such reverence and knowledge that it chilled her to the bone.

Was this still a game? Or something… more.

"A half fae, half angel child." The King’s green eyes grew dark with emotion. "The first ever," he finished.

And Luella…

She couldn’t breathe.

The air was still and quiet; sounds echoed around her. The orchestra and cheers abated, growing dim, until all she could focus on was the King before her and the words in her head.

It felt like a moment of peace before violence. The pause in the symphony before the crescendo .

"What…" She couldn’t take a full breath. Her white hair fluttered around her face as she shook her head. "What kingdom did… did this King rule?" Her addled brain tried to remember—had she ever heard of such a thing in her studies?

But Luella was coming to realize that she had been spoon-fed information to best serve the kingdom of Solis. Everything she knew was a lie.

Everything.

"Luna," Vale murmured. "It was the King and Queen of Luna."

Everything stopped: Vale, Luella, the air in her lungs.

"I’m the Princess of?—"

But she never could finish.

The King gripped her cheeks and pressed a fierce kiss to her lips, silencing her.

Oh.

He did taste like smoke.

Cedar and burning embers. Hot to the touch. Her lips tingled with heat as he kissed her.

And the sky broke free with the perfect storm.

Rain battered the roof of the castle, finally freed from its prison in the clouds.

Vale’s kiss was possessive and protective, all at once. She pulled away to stare up at the skylight, and he kept kissing her, moving from her lips down to her jaw. She heaved as she stared up at the thick sheets of rain pounding against the glass dome.

It cracked—tiny spiderwebs etched across the glass from the force of the rain.

Something within her chest cracked with it.

"Kiss me," Vale demanded, ripping her attention away from the glass back to him as the Binding mark pulsed. Her lids closed as she let herself feel .

Too consumed with each other to pay any mind to the swelling chaos around them, as the cracking grew loud enough to get the attention of the revelers.

Finally, Vale pulled away, eyes burning behind his mask as he stared at her lips. "Do not ever say it. "

Luella licked her lips, and his hand tightened on her cheek as he watched.

It was all too much.

Concerned voices ripped through the haze, and Vale looked up to the glass dome, just as it broke under the weight of the storm, caving in around them.

"Watch out!" Vale yelled, covering her with his body. He forced her to the floor, half on top of her, as he bore the brunt of the shattered glass raining down on them, mingling with the icy rain.

It was hard to discern which was which—rain or glass? They were both crystalline.

She gasped as rain quickly filled the throne room. Only when the shattered glass stopped did Vale let up, pulling her to her feet. Her wings ached, body on fire.

Vale ran his hands over her hair and face. "You’re not hurt?" he said, nearly crazed.

"No," Luella breathed, "you… protected me."

His expression was unreadable.

Loud calls filled the rain-soaked air. Water fell all around them. Shards of glass littered the gilded blue floors.

The revelers seemed not to care, spinning and twirling, bodies entwined among the falling rain.

Luella’s gown quickly grew drenched, swaths of feathered silks sticking to her body.

And she knew that this storm was her doing.

Water quickly filled the room. Puddles splashed as dancers flit around.

"Luella, we have to get you out of here. Come!" Vale called. His hands gripped her shoulders, his hair sticking to his forehead and mask.

Luella didn’t want to go. Not yet. Not when there was such beautiful chaos.

She had to yell to be heard over the storm:

"Keep dancing!"

Whatever he saw on her face made him huff out smoke. "You… you did this on purpose."

She took his hands, returning them to their spots on her body as she led him in a slow dance among the water. "No, not on purpose, Vale. But—" She smiled softly. "This is much better than your games."

The magic within her swelled like the storm, growing bolder.

And she found that she couldn’t quite get it to stop.

She had not lied. This storm had not been done of her own will—her own conscious will.

But a part of her deep inside understood that maybe this was the only way to get him to understand.

The King gritted his jaw, playing along with her whims as they danced. "You have to stop it."

Water pooled on the floor, filling it up, passing her ankles, coating everything. Splashing with every step of her heels on the gilded floor. She was soaked.

As their dance among water dwindled, she realized she did not want to obey him.

The threads inside her reared their heads, concern ripping through her.

And the power grew, making her ribs ache as it swelled inside her, too much to contain.

There was a low buzzing sound. Whipping limbs as they battered against each other outside the glass doors that led to the orchard and gardens. Air rushed around them, filling the throne room with torrents of water.

Good, Luella thought. Let the storm rage.

She was indelibly changed by him—by them all.

Pleasure had turned her into something different. But in her heart, she felt like the same naive, out-of-depth heirus Princess.

Playing pretend.

But perhaps she could play pretend at something other than gentleness.

"Stop this!" the King roared. "Rein it in!"

The Binding mark pulsed, but she could not answer his demand—she didn’t know how.

Her eyes grew wide. "Vale, I think I—I can’t!" she choked out, lightning flashed above them, dangerously close.

The courtiers sensed the danger in the air. Their wet, icy dances turned into fleeing .

The enchanted chandelier swung from the ceiling. Screams echoed as courtiers dove away from it.

"Run!" someone shouted. "Luella, run!"

She was grabbed, ripped away from staring at the chain that kept the chandelier tethered to the ceiling as it finally broke, falling to the watery ground with a loud splash and crack of shattered glass.

She was on the ground, on her side, and someone was hovering over her.

"Luella, Luella, call it back. Stop ," Tharen begged.

Her back was a mess of fiery pain. "I can’t," she whispered, and the rain drowned out her admission.

Her power had been slow to awaken. Over all elements, the sun, and the stars . And now, it was unable to be stopped.

The wind turned wet and violent, and the castle caved beneath the force of her storm.

To be continued…