Page 18 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

Vale wasn’t worried. They healed fast. He just didn’t want a certain innocent Princess to stick her little nose where it didn’t belong and ask questions.

Tharen took his seat, and this time, when he propped both legs up on the table, Bastian did not shove them off.

The demon resumed his pacing; however, his jittery edges had been quelled by the short display of violence, and no longer did his hands fidget and eyes flit over the room in agitation. The set to his shoulders was less tense, but he was still on edge.

"Shall we try this again?" Vale asked. "What happened?"

This time, his question did not go unanswered.

Bastian spoke. "I forced her to see the demon, as you requested." Vale cut off Azgorath’s sound of protest with a harsh look. The vampire continued, "She fell asleep in the library. I tried to go into her mind with my magic, but I… I could not see anything."

"What do you mean, you could not see anything?" Vale inquired.

"It was dark. Utter darkness."

Tharen grew serious. "Utter darkness? Do you think her powers are to blame? "

"I do not know." Bastian’s reddened eyes fell shut for a brief moment. "But I am worried for her."

"I am, as well. The weather, she’s controlling it, and she does not even realize," Vale weighed in. "If this continues for any longer, we will have to worry about flooding."

"And what if she can do the opposite?" Graves interjected. "What if she can cause a drought? Then we will have no food."

The King resisted the urge to let his head fall onto the table. Another problem…

"It is not impossible." Bastian steepled his fingers before him.

Vale waved a hand in the air. "We will address that if the issue arises.

" He took the time to hold each of their eyes, stressing the importance of their next topic—the real reason they were all here for this meeting.

"The Winter Solstice is approaching. We need to talk about what is going to transpire. "

Bastian gave a slow, resigned nod. "Vale’s dragon has already shown a possessiveness for her. The Choosing Ceremony will not be a matter of if his dragon claims her, but how . And what can we do to ensure her safety."

Wisps of smoke filled the room as Vale’s dragon rose to the surface, bubbling underneath his skin like hot, thick lava. "We need her." That was not entirely Vale who had spoken. He pinched his eyes shut, trying to regain control. " My dragon needs her. I cannot guarantee what he will do."

"Do you think he would kill her?" Azgorath’s voice filled the room. He did not pose a rebuttal to the nature of the Solstice; he knew the tradition was as old as the very sky itself. There was no way to work around it and keep her away—not if they wanted to risk questions about who she was to them.

Never, his dragon roared.

"No," Vale nearly spat. Take her, keep her. Images of his safe and warm den rose to the surface of his mind. "Definitely not. What he feels for her is strong, but not violent."

Tharen arched a brow, but it was Graves who surprised them all by saying, "Lust, then?"

"Fuck off," Vale responded.

Azgorath’s growls rang throughout the room .

"We will not tell her," Bastian said. "Right? It will only scare her to know what the Solstice entails and to know that she cannot escape it."

The King agreed, "We will not tell her. It will cause her fear, and we cannot risk it because of her current state and what her powers may do."

"What do you mean we will not tell her?" Azgorath strode forward and braced his large hands on the table, placing so much weight on it that the oak groaned under his palms. "So, what? We just won’t tell Lu that she will be paraded about amid a throng of females, claimed by your dragon, and then act as the Chosen for the week of celebrations, being your personal servant, only to end it all by being forced to lie with you?

" The demon spat the accusations with a thinly veiled threat laced between his words. And that would not do.

"You will not tell her, demon," the King ordered.

"Or what? Will you kill me?"

"No. But she might be killed. If we tell her what is expected of her and she goes into it without fear, it will raise suspicion.

Look at me, Azgorath." The demon stared into Vale’s eyes with anger brewing as the King leaned forward and harshly whispered, "If our enemies find out the Princess is important to us, she will be taken, she will be hurt, and she could very well be killed. Just to get to us. You don’t want that, do you? "

The demon shook his head, a brown curl flopping over his temple.

"I thought so." Vale sat back against his chair and looked to the others as he held up a finger.

"She will not know because we do not know the full extent of her power yet"—he held up a second finger—"and because it is for her safety to be in the dark on this.

We need her scared, and we need her to act as she normally would as a prisoner of war and not one of the females who live for the prospect of being the Chosen.

As the stolen Princess of Solis, she will be expected to be scared, and we want that. "

Azgorath’s amber eyes grew glassy, but the demon did not shed a tear as he relented. "Alright. I agree not to tell her. But I am doing this for Lu. Not for you. "

"Very well." Bastian’s fangs flashed as he rolled his bottom lip between his teeth.

"The Princess will not be told about the Solstice and all that it entails.

Now, for the final order of business. Her power and what we can do to help control it…

" He gestured to Tharen, allowing the Prima to take the lead.

"The elemental magics of the fae and mages are similar, of course, with the mage’s ancestors being part fae.

But we have one difference: there has never been a mage with the power of Luna or Solis.

So, I can’t speak to those two powers, but the elemental powers of Aer, Ignis, Aqua, and Terra—those I can aid with.

Mages are taught knowing the best way to settle our powers as we reach maturity and learn to master them is through a fight or a fuck. " Tharen grinned wildly.

Bastian tsked. "She could not stand a fight. Not how we do it. She is far too small and weak for violence."

"And she will not be allowed to fuck," Graves stated without inflection.

Vale had expected that to come from the demon or even the vampire, but not from him .

"But if she wants to?" Tharen cajoled.

"We will not be fucking her," Vale asserted. "The prophecy states, the Vincire will be bound, and the Queen will be crowned. We can not risk lying with her and somehow consummating the bond. Not before the other pieces of the prophecy fall into place."

Azgorath’s relieved exhale swept throughout the room. "We can’t fight with her, and she can’t lie with us. How can we help her?"

Tharen shrugged a shoulder. "I don’t know." He said it like he was angry at himself for not having the answer.

Graves cleared his throat; his deep blue eyes spoke of carefully contained secrets. "What about physical touch? Not quite lying with her, but almost?"

The mage hummed. "It could work. Touch is grounding, and since we are Vincire, it could be even more effective."

"Skin-to-skin contact, then?" A slow smile spread over the vampire’s plump lips. "I can do that."

Azgorath’s lip curled as he growled .

Vale nodded in agreement. "We’ll try it. Physical touch, skin-to-skin… It could help ease her anxiety about the Solstice, as well."

"Good," Bastian declared. "We are all in agreement?" The Advisor stared at each being in the room, lastly setting on Vale’s eyes where he sat at the head of the table, fingertips clenching against his thighs, just out of sight, as he worked to control his dragon.

Tharen and Graves both gave a quiet, "Aye."

Azgorath grumbled but dipped his head in reluctant assent.

"I am okay with it." Bastian prodded, "Vale?"

The King clenched his jaw.

Mine, mine, mine, chanted the dragon.

"I agree," Vale said through gritted teeth.

And their meeting was adjourned.

Tharen and Graves went off to do gods knew what—the latter most likely to spy on their little captive. Bastian gave Vale a heavy glance and looked at Azgorath pointedly before he, too, left the advisory room.

Leaving Vale alone with the demon…

The King poked his tongue in his cheek, watching the rippling muscles on Azgorath’s back as he turned to leave, whole body poised to snap as though he was forcing himself to go before he could attack.

Vale deliberated for a moment before sighing. He wanted the demon with him, not against him.

"Az," Vale called, enjoying the look of anger that rose to the demon’s features at the use of the sobriquet. "I will not force her to lie with me. I will have to accompany her inside the temples to not raise suspicions, but I would never force her."

Something in the demon’s face settled at that. Vale wondered if he wanted to be the first to lie with their Vincire.

His dragon hissed and spat flames inside his body at the thought. Possession gripped him in its claws. Vale could not help himself. "But if she is willing and wanting, I will not turn her down."

Take, take, take.

Claim her.

And Vale swiftly left the advisory room, ignoring the demon as he stared sharp daggers at him.

His breaths labored as he jogged out of the room, down the dark halls decorated with wintry blue for the Solstice, and right toward the nearest balcony, letting his beast take over before he could even jump off the ledge.

Onyx wings broke free, and the ground grew smaller beneath him, scales overtaking skin as Vale flew throughout the night, not able to contain his dragon any longer with the prospect of being able to claim his captive—his Vincire —soon.