Page 26 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

"This is mine." Still gripping her chin, he forced her to stare at herself, at the brand on her pale flesh.

She struggled, trying to look down, but he refused her this.

She would look; he willed her to, so she must. In a sudden burst of wretched clarity, Vale decided to allow her to struggle, his hands going slack, even while he ordered, "Look at yourself. "

The soft sounds of her struggling turned pained.

A hiss between her teeth, her small body bucking against his. "S-stop it!"

Vale tsked. "I am the one who makes the orders here. See what happens when you disobey me?" He spanned his fingers over her chest. "This mark forces you to obey my will. Usually, the Chosen enjoy being at the whim of the King. But not you…"

"Never me," she nearly spat. Her struggling stilled, and she stared at the tattoo on her chest. The candlelight in the bathing chambers cast her in warm amber, and it made the innocuous mark on her skin seem all the more harrowing .

Vale stared at the Binding mark. Three intersecting circles, with a perfect cut down the center.

"One for Mind. One for Body. One for Spirit." Vale’s finger cut down sharply in a line over the three circles, tracing over the shape. "And the binding of these things."

The words were old, and their meaning even older. Only Tharen knew the true meaning of the mark. As Prima, it was his prerogative to understand all manner of magical tattoos and arcane runes.

"That’s what the marks mean?" Luella asked.

Vale nodded, raptly focused on the ink on her skin.

His dragon rose to the surface, enchanting him with images: her wrapped in furs, nestled on a dark floor of a warm cave, firelight playing over her skin and warming her toes.

He swallowed thickly. A crown of glittering jewels in her white hair, a necklace resting on her elegant collarbones.

His tanned hands against her pale, bare thighs.

Vale snapped, reaching up to wrap his hand around her neck.

She gasped. "What are you?—"

The crown of her head brushed his chest, and he had to lean down to rest his chin on top of her head. Smoke wafted from his nostrils, and she only just had the understanding to be alarmed, her blue eyes growing wide the longer Vale stayed silent as he wrangled his beast back under control.

His thumb stroked over her jugular, feeling the healing nick on her skin from Graves’s blade. It had taken everything in him not to snap the male’s neck for daring to press a blade to his Vincire’s skin. Only Vale could hurt her. She was his to maim, his to taunt, his to fuck?—

Godsdammit.

In the mirror, Luella held his eyes captive, and he tapped his index finger over her chest, imagining breaking it open and digging her heart out, seeing if it was as delicate as he imagined it.

"Your heart is glass," Vale murmured.

Those blue eyes of hers slanted. "And your heart is stone."

She breathed in, her chest pressing against his palm. Wind rattled the glass. She breathed out. Sleet pelted the walls of the castle.

Vale’s mouth curved into a prideful half-grin. "I thought you were too naive to see it, but perhaps there’s hope for you, yet. This heart of stone will be your undoing."

Vale pulled away from her, turning his back on the mirror. He could not stand the truth of its reflection any longer.

He had a Solstice to prepare for.

The King allowed his robe to slip from his shoulders and fall in a heap to the floor. His chest was bare. He wore only thin pants. Lifting a foot, he dipped his toes to test the temperature of the water, finding it warm, nearly scorching.

Perfect.

Vale reached for the laces of his pants and began to untie them. He let his fingers lazily undo the ties, counting his breaths in his head as he waited for Luella to catch up.

The laces slipped through his fingers.

A breath. He unwound them. The waistband grew loose.

Another breath. He began to push them down his hips, revealing the line of hair under his navel.

"Wait!"

A strand of hair fell over his temple as he hung his head, keeping his back to her with his hands paused at his waistband.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was softly astonished.

Knowing he had her full attention, he let his breeches fall to the floor and join his discarded robe. Nude as the day he was born, Vale turned to face her.

Her cheeks were growing alarmingly red, and her mouth popped open before promptly closing.

The King arched a brow. "You’re my servant. Serve me, Chosen."

Her hands tightened into fists.

Vale stepped into the bath, sitting in the hot water with a deep groan.

He stretched his arms out across the back of the pool, tipping his head back as he viewed her from upside down.

"You’re peculiar when you’re angry. I can’t quite put my finger on it," he teased, "but it’s…

frosty." He forced an exaggerated shiver, loving the way the corners of her lips turned down and made her cheeks puff out.

Little hints—the wind rattling the eaves, and the ice and snow coating… everything … and she still hadn’t realized.

"The oil on the vanity, bring it to me," Vale ordered with a wave of a hand. Letting his eyes fall closed, he relished in the water lapping against his chest and her presence. He would enjoy this—having her forced near him.

Cold hands pressed against his shoulders. He cracked an eye open. She knelt by the edge of the water, her thin gown tucked under her thighs, bunching around her slim waist. He wanted her wet.

A tiny vial was gripped in her fingers. "This one?" she asked, a hint of impishness on her features.

Vale nodded. "Uncap it and pour it into the bath."

She waited for a moment, which was broken with a wince, a hand rubbing over her chest. She would learn what disobeying him meant. Like training a pet, it would take time.

He watched as she uncapped the vial, dropping the top somewhere over her shoulder. Then, holding eye contact with him, she raised the glass vial high and tipped it over the bath, upending all the contents into the water.

Smoke filtered from his nostrils and filled the air with crackling embers.

That was expensive.

His dragon chuckled, claws tapping against the bars of his cage. She needs to be put in her place.

Vale agreed. But the brand of his dragon’s punishment might break her. And he didn’t want her broken, yet. Only shattered a bit—maybe more than a bit. She would be pretty, pleading with watery eyes and bruised flesh.

No, Vale replied, not looking away from her as she took the empty vial and threw it over her shoulder. The glass shattered, and he wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and squeeze .

The dragon’s tail flicked out. Are you sure?

Vale reaffirmed , Not… yet.

Hands fisted in the silk of her gown, Luella stood. She seemed cowed by whatever feral rage was shown in his green eyes. She took a step back. "Y-you didn’t say how much to pour."

Her innocence wouldn’t save her now.

Vale gritted his teeth .

His dragon called for violence. She had ruined one of his things. Dragons were particular about their possessions.

"Get out," he hissed. She stumbled back a step, forced to obey before her mind could catch up with what she was doing. "And be grateful I am not a crueler male and won’t take you over my knee for your insolence."

She faltered, hand pressing over the mark on her chest. He watched her bare feet on the stone floor. Tiny pieces of glass littered the ground. She barely paid it mind, caught in his web.

"Out," Vale said. "Do not make me repeat myself. This is mercy I offer you. Take it."

And the Princess turned, feet cutting into the broken glass and leaving bloody footprints in her wake as she left the bathing chambers, the door softly clicking shut behind her.