Page 13 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

CALL ME BY NAME

LUELLA

B reath puffed out before Luella in little white clouds.

With every step she took down the stairs, her heart grew heavier and heavier. The rain grew louder and louder—a droning roar that echoed off the stone walls.

She braced a hand on the wall, peering over the side, down into the dark pit of nothing. It felt as though it had either been a century or a day since she had last made the downward, spiraling trek.

But one thing was different this time: an invisible string tugged her forward.

A warm palm pressed against her back.

"Almost there," whispered from behind her.

King Vale’s soft words bounced off the walls and echoed back up to her, and a whimper escaped her at the rush of memories. Another day, another palm against her back as she was forced down, down into the dungeons.

She had not known what was awaiting her then, but now she did.

Which was worse—the knowing or the not knowing?

She felt afflicted by both—her fingernails scratched against the rough stone as she trailed her hand along the wall, walking down the stairs, and thinking of who it was that was waiting at the bottom.

But that day, she had not known, and perhaps that had not been quite as foreboding .

Luella imagined Az, hurt and bleeding. And her steps grew quicker.

"Careful," King Vale warned from behind her. His palm rested right above the swell of her backside; his breath tickled the hair at her nape. A cool gust of air swept throughout, and she shivered—from the chill… or him.

They both grew quiet for the remainder of the trek. He seemed to sense her anticipatory hesitation, for he did not speak. Her thighs burned from the walk down the stairs, and she realized maybe she needed to get out more and exercise her muscles.

The darkened halls loomed ahead as they left the winding staircase.

She found a trance-like haze settle over her as they followed the halls, the ground sloping downward with every fork in the path.

She let him lead her; she could not recall the way even if she tried.

Though she felt the call pulling her, she was afraid to rely on it alone, lest she find herself lost.

At one particular point, she knew they were almost there. The call pulled against her chest, and she nearly stumbled forward.

The sconces fixed to the walls were still unlit, the air grew damp with a frigid chill, and she was suddenly grateful the King had forced her to dress in a warmer cloak.

Shortly up ahead, the dark hall curved, and she stopped, the King bumping into her back. Her breaths were jagged, and it was silent before her.

But she knew who was waiting.

The scent of warm, crackling embers danced over her skin. The King pressed his lips closely to her arched ear and whispered, "I’ll be here, waiting. I think it best for him not to see me."

She nodded but barely felt herself doing so.

His hands left her back, and she was bereft without his grounding touch.

The corner hid her, but she could not linger for long.

She was angry with Az, so angry. But she would not allow anyone to hurt themselves on her behalf.

Luella rounded the corner.

"My gods." Az’s fingers gripped the iron bars so tightly she wondered, not for the first time, how they did not snap.

Luella’s eyes burned at the sound of his voice.

"It’s you."

She stepped forward. It was dark here, but she knew the demon could see, even in the deep shadows. He looked like he had been waiting for her. The call must have alerted him far before she showed up…

"Lu," Az whispered. His voice was a broken thing, even with that one word.

A sob bubbled up and spilled over her lips, bouncing off the walls.

The demon knelt on the ground, pressed right against the bars of his cell.

The tips of his horns knocked against the iron, making soft clanging noises, and she was taken to another time when she shared the cell next to his—fingertips reaching between bars and fingers smoothing over the backs of hands and words whispered softly into the shadows.

Her blue eyes were drawn to that cell. It was smaller, with her standing on the outside of it. Less scary and… more sad.

Her fingers tightened in the folds of her dark cloak. Her hood was pushed back, and her white hair stood as a beacon in the dark.

"Please," he said. And her eyes fell back on where he was stretching out an arm between the bars, as far as he could manage, with his large frame and muscles. "Say something, Lu."

So, she did. "H-hi."

Her voice was equally as broken. From this far below the castle, she could just barely make out the faintest pitter-patter of rain.

"I’m so sorry, angel. Please. You have to forgive me." The words fell in a rush from Az’s anxiously bitten lips, as though they had been held back for far too long to be contained anymore.

Luella looked down, studying where her pale legs poked out from the bottom of her cloak.

"Come closer, please." The warmest of sugars and richest of chocolates settled over her like a blanket. "Do not deny me this, even with all the wrong I have done."

With that, she looked up at him. Amber eyes entreated her to move. Hesitantly, she took the last few steps that kept her from his reach. Her chest brushed against the iron bars.

His long, thick fingers stretched out, but he did not touch her. He seemed afraid.

Luella found her own hands reaching up, skimming lightly over the cool iron of the bars.

This close to him, she could make out deep shadows under his eyes, prominent even with his dusky skin.

Her wide eyes tracked from where his fingers gripped the bars, over the exposed skin of his wrists, and to his forearms. Red blood crusted underneath his elbows, small jagged lines cut into his skin, mingling with the other scars that he had.

She could not contain it any longer.

Tears fell freely from her eyes. She tried to blink them away, but they just fell harder.

"You’ve done wrong," Luella started. Even with him kneeling, she had to look up to meet his eyes. "But not as the others have done." She implored him to understand. "Az, you saved me."

The sound of her name on his lips appeared to be his undoing.

Tears fell from his amber eyes. The sight of a fearsome, violent demon, trapped behind bars made of iron, bare-chested with a litany of scars, curving horns that cast shadows against his cheeks—it should have been unheard of.

And yet, she could think of nothing more wondrous.

This demon—he was crying for her.

And she cried for him.

"You saved m-me," she repeated, voice thick and wet with tears. "I would not have made it here alone. It was… because of you—It was with you… that I was able to break free." Her words were not elegant, but they were enough.

He was the first to cross the invisible barrier between them.

A pinky reached out, and he skimmed it softly over the side of her hand, hooking it with her littlest finger. Her chin trembled as she watched their intertwined pinkies.

"Will you forgive me?"

She met his amber eyes, and his fingers flexed against the bars as he stared at her newness, her white hair and blue eyes and pale skin .

"I-I don’t know."

He nodded, resigned, as though that was exactly the answer he had been expecting. "Tell me one thing. Is there even a chance?"

Luella had learned to never say never—things were always changing, shifting. You could wake up one morning, and your world could be ripped apart. She should know, after all. It had happened to her.

She did not want to speak, afraid her voice would give her away. She stared at the lines on his skin. She could not, would not , be the cause of any more pain.

"It’s different," she remarked. "On this side of the bars." She gently removed her pinky from his, but her entire body grew cold without that one singular touch.

Az sighed, resting his forehead on the bars. The tip of his horns poked through, and she wanted to reach up and touch, trace the shape of them, and dig her fingers into the sharp points until blood spilled.

Stop. No more violent thoughts!

She wasn’t sure what had gotten into her.

"You’re prettier on the outside of these bars, Lu. You were not made to be caged."

Az was a sight to behold, a fearsome thing, trapped and yearning.

He was not made to be caged, either.

"I will get you out of here," she vowed.

Anger swelled within her, a storm of violence, and Luella left before she could turn that raging tempest on him.

It was silent between her and the King as they retraced their steps out of the dungeons.

And she did not break that silence until they had climbed every swirling step and the door slammed shut behind them.

Now, in the throne room, it was dark with the night sky that filtered in through the glass dome of the roof.

Above ground, she could easily hear the thunderous roar of the rain as it beat down. She tipped her head back, watching the dark, thick mass of clouds as they converged overhead .

The King watched her, taking the few short steps down to the center of the throne room as he held out a hand, waiting for her to come to him.

"So, you will not forgive him, then?" King Vale asked.

Luella had the urge to ask how he knew, but then she remembered he had heard the whole conversation with his keen senses. "I told him the truth." She walked to him but did not take his outstretched palm. "I… don’t know."

She had much more to be worried about than her forgiveness. Az could not stay there any longer. She feared what he would become. Now, it was time for the hard part: to ask the King for what she desired.

Those green eyes burned her skin, taking in her exposed legs and tracing over her slim shoulders before resting upon her pale, soft face.

She stepped closer, her chest almost brushing his, and he stared down at her, nostrils flaring.

The call thrummed a happy little song from their proximity as though it was rejoicing in their flirting brushes of skin.

"Do you…" She swallowed thickly. Would she ever be able to speak without faltering in their presence? "Do you feel it, too?"

King Vale knew what she was speaking of. "Yes, Luella." He paused as if he could sense the tenderhearted wish that lingered on the tip of her tongue.

"Free him," she finally blurted.

He arched a golden blonde brow, staring down at her. "Why?"

"Can it not be simply because he doesn’t deserve this fate?"

The King rubbed a hand over his jaw, considering her.

Her tones were dulcet, but he was unwavering.

The moments grew longer, and she knew what his answer would be before he even opened his mouth and spoke: "No."

She looked down, blinking away the few traitorous tears that lingered on her lashline. A please welled within her, but dare she beg?

The King cupped her jaw and forced her face up to his. The call sang loudly at his touch.

"I might be inclined if you beg."

She loathed him—this male, her enemy .

It was at that moment Luella realized she would forgive Az, but never the King. Their differences were palpable. Az held remorse, but she wondered if King Vale was even capable of such a feeling.

She stared up at him, and the rain pounded against the glass dome. She wondered if it were possible for the glass to shatter under the force of the water.

His mind was made up, but so was hers.

Luella’s knees thudded as she fell to the ground, kneeling, bowing before him. Her captor and her Vincire. What should have been sacred and precious was warped with cruelty.

She knelt, staring up at him. Her chin brushed the clothed skin of his warm thighs from how close she was to him.

"Please," she begged.

Her softness made her weak, but it made her heart large. She would let this softness free Az.

She traced the line of the King’s neck with her eyes as she stared up at him, watching as his throat bobbed with a rough swallow.

He cupped her jaw once more, and she leaned into him, eyes fluttering shut briefly from how demeaning this was—how her head swam with feeling, and her stomach clenched with strangeness as she was forced to her knees in the very throne room she had been damned to the dungeons below their feet.

"Say my name," he implored.

"Vale," she quickly obeyed, whispering up at him.

And then he nodded. "Grant me a tryst."

"We are not l-lovers." Luella’s heart thundered in her ears; she knew he could hear.

"Not yet." His voice held mirth. "A tryst and I will free your demon."

She had no choice. "I agree."

He forced her to stand with a hand still cupping her face. "A tryst," he repeated. "And continue to call me by name."

She swallowed. "Why are you so insistent upon me saying your name without a title?"

"I seek to own everything about you, including my name on your lips." He huffed a short, sardonic laugh. Thin tendrils of smoke wafted from his nostrils.

Thunder shook the walls .

"A blood vow?" she inquired softly, all while praying she would not be forced to have another mark on her skin from one of her captors.

He was shaking his head before she could even finish her question. "We will not make this deal in blood. I am only as good as my word, after all."

"Your word… It is nothing to be proud of."

"My name," he prompted, ignoring her barbed words.

"V-Vale," she addressed him.

And the deal between them was done, outlined with words alone. Az was freed, and her fate was marked in the very room she was first cursed.