Page 20 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

Ina and Osa did not paint her face or line her eyes with kohl or her lips with rouge. She was left undone and free. Bare and innocent and natural. Her white skin seemed to reflect the faint sheen of white snow as it filtered in through the windows, and her hair soaked up the pureness of everything.

She stared at her reflection, seeing another time and another place: her reflection staring back up at her from the glassy, blue surface of water.

A knock on the door.

"Hello, pet." Bastian strode into the room without care for the state he might find her in. She clutched the towel closer to her body.

Graves entered behind him, his hood over his head, but his cowl was nowhere to be found.

She saw the faintest hint of his jeweled eyes, the strong line of his jaw shadowed by hair, with the pale scar cut into the side of his lip and over his cheek.

He stood by the wall, watching. She felt the burn of his eyes as they fell upon her exposed shoulders.

Bastian came to stand right behind her, Ina and Osa backing up to give him space. Ina held a small vial of liquid in between her fingers, and she fidgeted, staring at the floor as she waited for Bastian to move away.

The vampire quirked a dark, perfectly groomed brow. "We’ll take over from here," he said, holding out a palm for whatever it was Ina held carefully in her grip.

The silent maid blushed under his attention—Luella knew the feeling well—and reached out a shaking hand to place the vial in his awaiting palm.

"That will be all, Ina." Bastian gave a charismatic, charming smile to the lithe maid. "Osa." He inclined his head to the tall, broad-shouldered female.

The maids answered his dismissal by efficiently gathering their things and leaving.

But not before Ina stopped at the door, a hand notched against the frame with a question poised on her unspeaking lips.

Something in Luella’s heart tugged at the thought of someone caring for her.

Her brows wrinkled into a soft pout, and her lips parted, wanting to speak.

Graves caught her eye, the raven shifter already staring at her. Luella looked down, away from Ina.

The door closed quietly behind Ina as she left, and Luella was left alone with her two captors.

Bastian uncapped the tiny vial in his hands.

"What is that?" Luella inquired softly.

The vampire stepped closer, his chest brushing her towel-covered back. "A combination of ylang-ylang and lavender."

And she realized what that sweet and powerful scent was that had been filling the room. "Ylang-ylang?" she asked.

He pushed up his sleeves, baring his perfect, pale forearms and elegant hands. She breathed deeply, inhaling not the ylang-ylang in his hands but the scent of bergamot and spiced cloves mingling with sweet honey.

Her head swam.

Bastian tipped the vial, pouring some of the viscous liquid on his palms and rubbing his hands together to coat them.

Graves took a step closer; she watched as he reached up with a gloved hand and pushed his hood back, revealing his features entirely. His eyes were dark and deep and held so many secrets that her breath hitched in her chest.

Bastian placed his oiled palms on her bare shoulders, digging his thumbs into her collarbones as he massaged the oil onto her skin. A soft, needy sound left her lips at his firm touches .

"What are you… doing?" She leaned back into him, her head falling to his chest.

Bastian leaned down slightly, breathing over her temples. "Preparing you for the Solstice."

"Why did you send Ina and Osa away?"

Graves finally removed the last bit of distance between them, coming to settle his hip against the edge of her vanity as he peered down at her. He was the one to answer her question. "We wanted to help get you ready."

She swallowed thickly. "Oh," she managed. "What is the ylang-ylang for?" She held back a hiccup of surprise when Bastian tugged the hem of her towel down, baring the beginnings of the swell of her breasts.

The vampire’s expert hands firmly massaged the oil over her chest, his finger skimming along the stitching of the pushed-down towel; she waited for him to go lower, to dip his fingers underneath, but he never did. "Desire," he all but purred.

Graves toyed with another one of the vials on the top of her vanity, lifting and swirling it, watching the clear liquid as it sloshed against the side of the glass container it was in.

"And attraction…" He uncapped the vial in his hand and brought it up to his nose, inhaling. "Chamomile," he declared.

"Good," Bastian responded. "Put that behind her ears. It will help her to relax."

Graves brought a hand to his lips, tugging a glove off with his teeth.

The leather dropped onto her lap, and she watched as he poured some of the chamomile oil onto his bare fingers and leaned forward.

Her head tipped as she looked up at him.

She was caged in on either side. The raven shifter at her front and Bastian at her back.

Pools of lapis lazuli and reddened orbs scorched her body. The fluffy towel wrapped around her felt inconsequential.

Graves brushed her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her arched ears. She shivered from the ghostly touch of his bare skin against her sensitized flesh. Silently, he rubbed the pads of his oiled fingers against the soft skin behind her ears. Calming chamomile loosened her limbs .

He pulled back and recapped the vial with ease as if he had not just controlled the very beating of her heart.

Bastian finished massaging her arms and shoulders, holding out a glistening palm to her. "Stand. I must do your legs before you dress."

She fumbled for words. "I-I do not think… I do not need you to do the rest of me. I can do it."

He tutted under his breath. "You’re not getting out of this that easily, pet. Now stand." He urged her to take his palm, and she did so with unveiled hesitancy.

Clutching the towel tighter to her, she bit down hard on her bottom lip at the rush of cool air against her bare thighs. The hem of the towel tickled her upper thighs, not quite long enough to be decent. She stared up at Bastian, and the red in his eyes grew more pronounced.

The vampire did not break her stare as he slowly knelt before her.

"What—" Luella stumbled back but was caught by two hands against her waist. She turned her head slightly, seeing Graves behind her, keeping her trapped.

One of his hands was still bare, and his discarded glove had fallen to the floor by their feet. He reached up. His skin was so tan against her paleness, and his scent called to her, wrapping her up in its embrace.

"He’s just oiling your thighs," Graves assured her. He leaned down—her hair was still tucked behind her ear, chamomile pressed into the skin there—and whispered against the shell of her ear, "Don’t go and get a dirty mind, sweetheart. We have plenty of time to dirty you later, but you just got out of the bath. We don’t want you sullied so soon. "

His breaths were warm against her skin, and she felt tiny beads of perspiration dotting her body, even as a chill wracked her frame.

The snow was a constant stark whiteness, filtering in with the evening light.

Though the night was quickly falling throughout Serpentis, the heavy blanket of white over the lands only made everything brighter, and she blushed from the glow of light that clearly illuminated her flushed skin and blown pupils.

She gulped. "I can do it… truly. "

Bastian stared up at her, his hands hovering over her exposed thighs. "We know. Let us do this for you."

Graves nipped at her lobe, and she was reminded of their kiss in the library. "To help calm you," the raven shifter murmured.

Bastian finally placed his hands on her thighs, and she bit back a pleased sound as his hands expertly massaged the ylang-ylang and lavender mixture into her skin.

She tried to speak, even while his touches and their scents were sending her into a stupor. "Why must I be oiled with the ylang-ylang if it is for d-desire?" she stumbled over the word.

Bastian’s breath puffed over her pale thighs as he said, "It is a secret.

" His lips stretched as he muttered the last word, a sly grin overtaking his sensual mouth. And this time, she could not stop the sound of pleasure that tore from her lips. Bastian’s hands gripped her thighs tightly, and she wondered if she would have bruises.

"We know all about secrets, don’t we?" Graves echoed in her ear.

"N-not me," she said softly. Her lids fluttered closed under their attentions. " You know secrets."

The raven shifter huffed a laugh in her ear. She was becoming baked in the scent of spiced honey and bergamot.

Bastian finished oiling her thighs, hands skimming down to her calves, which he gave much less attention than he did her upper thighs.

As he stood, his hands firmly pressed into her legs, giving one last circling massage to her overheated, glistening skin.

Graves’s fingers flexed against her waist, and something impish sparked in Bastian’s red-tinted eyes.

The vampire’s fingers spanned her upper thighs before a hand snaked over and pressed firmly between her towel-covered legs, roving up the rest of her body like it never even happened. She jolted, a noise halfway between strangled and pleased torn from her bitten lips.

But Bastian merely stood, cocking his head. "What is it, pet? Feel good?"

Graves pulled away from her back slightly, and she stumbled out from between their bodies and held the towel closely to her chest, her thighs quivering .

"I—" she started, but could not find it in her to address what he had done with both of them staring at her so intensely.

"Let’s get you dressed," Bastian said. He gently took her hand where it was clutching the towel and held it tightly; her other hand gripped the fluffy material so harshly her knuckles were white. He led her to her wardrobe and pulled a soft, flowing dress from within.

It was simple yet elegant. A silken material that flowed in a deep pool of pure white to the floor. Like snow.

She reached out a hand to touch it. "It’s pretty."

"Do you need help?" Graves mumbled from behind her, skimming his fingers over the hem of her towel.

She blushed and snatched the dress from Bastian, who smirked.

Silently, Luella stepped behind the changing partition in the corner of her room and let the towel drop from her body, slipping the dress over her head.

It pooled to the floor, and she had to hold it up to walk without tripping.

The cool silk tickled her skin, and she only just realized she was without undergarments.

"Um." She cleared her throat. "I think you forgot to give me something."

Graves’s chuckle carried to her through the thin shadows of the partition between them. "I don’t think so. Do you, Bastian?"

"No, definitely not. The dress was all you’re allowed, pet."

An annoyed breath puffed from her lips, and she smoothed her palms over the material, stepping back out from the partition. Cool air whispered over her body, and with the gown being long and flowing with thin straps that bared her collarbones and shoulders, she felt utterly exposed.

"You are breathtaking," Bastian breathed.

Graves’s eyes scoured her, stopping at the way the silk clung to her hips and bunched at her waist, the neckline scooping elegantly and baring her pale chest and the soft swell of her breasts. He did not speak, but that was even more tantalizing than the vampire’s compliments.

Bastian held out a palm for her. "Ready?"

Without their skin touching hers, her head cleared slightly so she had the forethought to blurt, "What is going to happen during the Solstice? Why do I feel like… like you’re not telling me something? "

The scar on the raven shifter’s lips tugged with a smile at her barrage of questions.

"You’ll find out soon enough." He placed a gloved palm on her back, and she distantly wondered when he had put the discarded glove back on.

He nudged her to the vampire, who took her hand from where it rested limply by her side.

"Trust us," Bastian implored. Her lip curled, but before she could snarl and pull away, his cold hand brushed over the skin of her heart—the red mark of the vow still etched into her flesh and revealed by the low cut of her simple gown. "Let’s go. The King is waiting."