Page 3 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

As the ground turned from wet earth to a blanket of thick, lush, and green grass, her bare feet tracked dirty footprints.

The beginnings of the forest beckoned her.

She was sad to leave the embrace of the lake behind her, but curious about what lay before her, the secrets held within the midst of the tall green expanse.

Her ears strained, and she lamented her weaker fae hearing.

She held herself still, the sound of her heart thunderous in her ears as she waited with bated breath for the telltale crunch of leaves from the dream-like step of her vampiric captor.

A flash of color in the otherwise shadowed green of the still forest.

And she surged forward.

"Bastian!" Luella called. Her voice rang out in the quiet; the rustle of leaves throughout the canopy was her only answer.

Her blue eyes squinted as she tried to catch that fleeting pop of color that had first caught her attention.

"Bastian," she breathed. "Is that you?"

Nothing answered.

Until something did.

Sharp peals of laughter broke the loud silence of the dreamscape, ringing out with brilliant clarity. Her ears rang from the noise, unused to such a joyous sound.

At that moment, Luella grew uneasy. For the laughter that pierced the air was not of the masculine sort, but the soft, bell-like trill of a female.

Her hands fluttered to her chest as she stood before the invisible line that marked the beginning of the forest. "Bastian?" She took a step back. "This isn’t funny anymore. Where are you?"

Leaves crunched, the laughter echoed throughout the forest, and she quaked where she stood, toes curling into the grass to ground herself .

The feminine lilt of the laughter was joined by the sharp, unmistakable bark of a male—one she did not recognize.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears the longer she stared at the unmoving forest, not wanting to blink and miss the flash of movement.

"I want to wake up."

Warmth cascaded over her back, and she did not break away from her unfaltering watch of the forest, even as something soothing whispered over her nape.

Somehow, she knew then that it would all be okay, that she was safe and would not be harmed here.

The touch was like a phantom; she knew it was not from someone—but something —though her heart did not kick up in fear, and her breath did not labor.

She watched, and she waited. And she felt.

The sun warmed her skin, the clouds blotting out its rays occasionally; she could see the faintest impression of the moon, even though it was the middle of the day; air tickled her cheeks, and the grass blanketed her feet; the memory of the cool lap of water against her skin made her release the breath she had been holding so fearfully.

The laughter had grown quiet, but leaves still crunched, growing nearer with every passing moment.

Finally, she could make out a shape in the inviting depths of the forest.

A male with strong shoulders and dark hair.

"Bastian?" she called. "I thought…" Luella did not know what she thought.

She took a step closer, retracing her path as she walked nearer to the tree line, eyes narrowing as she attempted to make out the shape of him.

Something churned uneasily in her gut, even as her mind desperately tried to place this stranger as Bastian, turning his shape into the familiar one she knew the vampire to have, pretending the curls of hair were silky black.

The male stumbled out of the embrace of the tree limbs, a stagger to his gait and a half-emptied bottle of wine held loosely in a hand.

It was not Bastian.

Her eyes grew wide, and her limbs locked up in fear. Not Bastian. The vampire had not brought her here with his Mind magic. So then, where was she? And how did she get here?

Luella watched as the male’s features came into focus, slowly, then all at once as he drew closer.

Dark hair—similar to the vampires, in a way, with silky tendrils that fell about his forehead, free and rumpled.

This stranger had pale skin, as well. But that was where the similarities ended.

His skin was free of the swirling tattoos she knew adorned Bastian’s skin, and this male’s pallor was not the sickly, near-deathly shade of a vampire, just a normal sort of paleness.

She could not make out his face clearly as his head was turned away from her. He did not give any sign that he noticed her where she stood, frozen, at the tree line, the rippling water of the lake behind her like a beacon as it reflected the glow of the sun.

A particularly harsh gust of wind blew throughout the lands, making her white hair whip around her in a maelstrom of movement as she remained still—not composed, but a nervous, anticipatory stillness.

As though she feared any movement whatsoever would disrupt the fragile state of waiting she had found herself thrust into.

She took a shaky breath, held it, and then the male turned his head toward her.

Luella quivered like the leaves that rattled in the wind as he looked right at her.

Piercing green eyes. Something about them was so familiar to her, like a dream that remained just out of reach.

She could not quite put her finger on where she had seen that exact shade of green before… but she knew she had.

She waited for him to speak, her own lips parting with a question lingering at the tip of her tongue, but she held it back, scared.

His head shifted, eyes not falling on where she stood as he took in the lake.

His features were regal, almost. He was beautiful.

Pale skin, with cheeks flushed into a rosy, happy glow.

His brows were dark, the ends winged, and his mouth split into a joyous smile, a masculine laugh falling from his lips.

She did not understand.

Did he not see her?

The male turned his head, his ruffled black hair catching in the wind as he did so. Her head shook slightly as she watched him, a sense of familiarity giving her pause.

"Enora!" the male yelled, the last letters of the name rising with glee as he called for what Luella assumed to be the source of that feminine, lilting laugh she had heard piercing the forest.

A giggle resounded in response, leaves crunching and twigs snapping, before a tall, willowy female stumbled out of the trees, a pale hand pressed against the tree bark as she stopped to catch her breath.

Her hair was a deep brown shade and fine, spun like silk as it fell in straight strands down to the middle of her back, cascading over her shoulders and blocking out her face as she bent at the waist. Her breathing was labored, punctuated by the occasional giddy laugh.

"Caliban!" she nearly wheezed. "I told you… to wait for me." Her words were interrupted with laughter, and Luella felt herself grow green with envy at the sight of such unfettered joy. What must it be like to carry yourself so free, to be so uncaring?

The male, Caliban, turned back to the lake, that open and beautiful smile still on his lips. His eyes held secrets, the kind that reminded Luella of sneaking about in the night with a lover.

She grew sad at the sight. Even while a part of her stayed confused by what was transpiring.

"I waited long enough, Enora." Caliban laughed. It was a musical sound, accompanied by the female’s own laughter. A pale hand raised as he pushed his dark hair off his forehead, sweeping it back. The action revealed pointed ears, and Luella stifled a gasp.

He was a fae!

Enora left the tree line, her breathing still loud with exhilaration. She came to stand beside Caliban. She was taller, her shoulders were lithe, and her posture was perfect. Her brown eyes peered up at Caliban with open adoration.

Lovers.

He stared down at her, his expression so soft that Luella felt her eyes burn with the promise of jealous tears; what must it be like to have someone look at you with such care?

She blinked?—

And was assaulted by the feeling of a call, tugging and tugging on her soul. Hands carding over her cheeks, the soft scent of warm, rich sugar. Amber eyes that held so much fondness, but she wanted to rage at his lies.

She knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of such a look, and she knew that looks were deceiving. Eyes might speak of care and affection, but actions speak louder.

So, she watched the pair of lovers.

Caliban wrapped an arm around Enora’s shoulder. The top of her head brushed his chin, and they stared out at the lake together. Neither of them looked Luella’s way. She was beyond the point of asking why, so she walked closer, standing on the outskirts.

"It feels so nice to get away," Enora said, her eyes falling closed as she rested her head on Caliban’s shoulder.

Caliban knocked his hip against hers playfully, pulling her into his side with a strong arm.

"I thought we would never be able to steal away. We don’t have long.

Until dusk, maybe? My father will be expecting me.

" He grew saddened, lips turning down at the corners as his happy expression flickered like the dying embers of a fire.

The air grew somber between the pair, and Luella cocked her head.

Enora sighed, the sound seemed so heavy for such happiness they displayed.

"Live in the here and now, Caliban. With me.

" She turned and grabbed his hands, holding them so tightly that Luella could see her knuckles grow white. "Your father does not own you. I do. You’re mine, and I am yours. Because you let me, and I let you. The only way he can have any control over you is if you let him. So don’t.

" Enora’s tone turned sharp at the end—angry, but not with the male before her, Luella knew, but with his… father?

Caliban’s contemplative, saddened smile turned to a thing of softly adoring melancholy. Luella knew, then, that he cared for this female, Enora, and his eyes were not lying.

Some of the bitterness within her softened at the revelation.

"Okay, Nor."

Luella softened further at the sobriquet.