Page 35 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

SNOW ON THE BEACH

LUELLA

S hades of blue coated her arms and dusted the hem of her gown.

The King and the captive Princess danced amid the snowy marble floors, the courtiers giving them a large berth as they watched, arrested by the sight of her, like the wintry moon, majestic; him, a prideful combination of green and gold.

And their union, a discordant whirl of wills.

She allowed him to bend her to his liking, to twirl her and spin her about like she was a puppet on a string.

Luella felt the eyes of her Vincire on her body, could never ignore the call inside her. The threads were loud and unabating as they tugged.

"I eagerly await our journey to the Temples of Aedis." Vale dipped her, her spine arching as she allowed her head to fall back, and then rise with ease, folding into him.

Her eyes flicked to his before she looked away, finding Az at the side of the room. With her spinning, he was murky, and she was barely able to hold him in her sights before she was torn away, and the crowd blotted out his frame from view.

There was so much she didn’t know. "When do we leave?" she asked.

"Three days from now. The journey is to be done under the cover of nightfall. We will arrive at the Temples at dawn," Vale said quietly.

"Will I—" Her throat closed up. She could barely say it. "What, exactly, will be expected of me?"

Vale’s hands tightened around her waist, and her tongue came out to lick over her bottom lip. His eyes tracked the motion. "Not here. All will be revealed in time. And that time is not now, Princess Luella."

Warm breaths puffed over her skin, and her cheeks pulsed with a hot ache, too aware of him and the eyes on them both to do anything but give the tiniest of nods.

In time. That phrase, back again…

But this time, Luella did not think she would stand for the lies for long. Tonight. She would get her answers tonight, even if she had to steal them, pry them from their deceitful mouths, and trick them away from their clutches.

A flurry of commotion broke her out of her deep thoughts.

Vale’s steps did not falter, but hers did, forcing him to stop before her. His fingers flexed on her waist.

"What’s happening?" she inquired softly, staring up at him.

The revelers stopped their dancing; the music flowed with the barest of hitches, a mere screech of the violin before it continued with a sweeping, haunting tune that made her heart pick up in her chest, and her breaths quicken.

Luella did not know the precise moment she realized something was amiss, but sometime between the halt of the dancing bodies, the fall of enchanted dust, and the crescendo of the orchestra, she saw hints of shadows creeping into the room.

Blue flames flickered, gasps filled the air.

And the bodies parted.

A male stood at the furthest reaches of the room, a space wholly encompassed in shadow and darkness. His image shimmered like an apparition, the darkness curling around his frame. She saw a hint of black hair and pale skin. And was that…

Green eyes?

The shadows enveloped him.

She blinked .

"Caliban!" Sweet, feminine laughter. "I thought I told you to wait for me!"

Blinked again.

Glass shattered. A pale, male hand gripping a delicate throat. "I’m going to fucking kill you. Cut you up into little pieces and feast upon your flesh."

Shuddering, she came out of whatever had befallen her with one name ringing in her ears.

"Caliban," Luella whispered aloud, tasting its foreignness on her tongue.

The maelstrom of sound in the room nearly drowned out her voice. But not enough. Not from the ears that truly mattered.

Vale gripped her shoulders. " Where did you hear that name?" His voice was more serious than she had ever heard before.

The shadows grew darker. The cacophonous cries of the revelers turned to fearful gasps when the blue light of the flames was blown out completely, shrouding the throne room in utter darkness.

She couldn’t see.

She couldn’t see.

Luella’s whole body shook, hands grasping nothing but the air before her. She felt Vale’s heat, but he evaded her searching touch, leaving her adrift in an ocean of dark.

"Vale?" she asked into the shadows.

And nothing but the shadows answered.

Until a hand touched hers.

She jolted but grew calm when she felt the threads wrapped around her soul sing with joy.

Honeyed cloves; winter’s frost; rich, melted sugar; bergamot.

And the warmth of a crackling fire…

…All wrapped around her senses and melted into her flesh.

They were all here, surrounding her.

There was one name that she felt compelled to utter—not her demon protector or the vampire who yearned for her forgiveness. But a certain white-haired mage with proclivities for violence.

The scent of snow soothed her. "Tharen?" She felt a palm on her lower back, and she bumped into a large chest.

"I’m here, lamb." She heard the mage’s answering words, and something tremulous and fragile was mended within her.

Gloves against her bare shoulders. "We must get you somewhere safe," Graves murmured.

She had to strain to hear his voice over the noises of the crowd. Harsh whispers as if they were afraid to speak too loudly and break the looming threat that was poised over them like the sharp blade of a sword.

A chill permeated the room, making her shiver. So cold.

Luella had been so overheated lately that the chill was welcome, but that didn’t stop her from rubbing her hands over her exposed arms. "What’s happening?"

Her fae eyesight was weak and did not allow her to see well in the dark. But they could.

Wide-eyed and wracked with soothing chills, her hands grasped before her, tangling with a silken shirt—Bastian.

"Luella." Strong hands held her shoulders, a face coming before hers in the dark. She could just barely make out green eyes and tanned skin, warmth filled the space between her and Vale. "Where did you hear of that name?"

"W-what name? What are you talking about?" In her fear, she did not realize that the name she had uttered—Caliban—was what forced an urgent shock into the King’s movements.

He shook her. "Tell me!"

"Hey!" She heard Az bark. "Don’t hurt her."

The demon’s strong hands gripped her elbow, tugging her into his side. Vale did not let her go.

She would be torn in two by them.

"Stop," she whispered. The concerned words of the crowd and the violent males before her gobbled up the plea. It disappeared into the shadows, heard by nothing, perhaps.

Az’s fingers dug into the soft skin of her inner arm, pulling and pulling. He jerked her back against his broad chest as if to use his body as a shield from the shadows around them and the males before her .

Vale yanked her away from the demon, and she let out a startled cry.

She fell into the King’s embrace, and her cheek brushed against his chest as he held her to him with an intense possessiveness.

"She’s mine," Vale growled. His voice did not sound like his own. Smoke filled the air.

"She’s not a thing ," Az hissed.

Emotions ramped higher, feeding into the twisted, welling thing inside her.

Her skin was ice, and her heart was frozen solid. But she burned.

"Stop!" Luella yelled.

A soft burst of blue-tinged light.

Frozen water danced around her, droplets splattering from her fingertips as she swept her hand out; it froze midair and plinked against the ground.

The short glow of the light ebbed, blotted out by the darkness.

The crowd grew hushed.

Her captors fell silent.

Shock fell heavily upon her.

"Luella," Tharen said—emotion filled his sharp voice, turning it soft with shock, interest… and fascination?

"I did that?" Luella stepped back into a broad chest, seeking safety.

Her hands searched behind her, feeling thick swaths of fabric before gloved fingers carefully interlaced with hers as if the gentle act was a secret.

The air filled with a low, droning hum. Her head cocked. It sounded like… the faintest buzz of a gateway.

Her eyes widened. "Something’s coming."

The shadows swelled, growing so dark that the faint light from the pure snow cascading in through the cracks was eaten up by them.

Thrumming filled the air.

"Get her out of here," Graves ordered urgently.

"The Umbra?" Az asked.

She heard Tharen’s sound of affirmation.

The Umbra .

She had thought they were safe. But of course not. The Tenebrae’s army had infiltrated the castle once; what was to stop it from happening again?

The memory of shadowed eyes and vile words made her eyes burn, that thing inside growing hot, large, and all-consuming.

She resisted the urge to wrap her arms around Graves for comfort. "I’m scared."

A cold hand brushed against her fingertips. "We will keep you safe," murmured Bastian.

Finally, Vale spoke. His voice no longer sounded growled with violence, but the ends of his words were strained like he was having a hard time reigning in his impulses.

" I will take her away. You four can deal with this.

" Something harsh cracked. Like the snap of a bone. "I’ll be back once she’s out of the way. "

The anticipatory thrum of the shadows fizzled, popped, and then erupted.

Chaos consumed the throne room.

Screams pierced the dark.

Lights flashed softly, and sparks danced along Tharen’s fingers, illuminating the harsh lines of his face.

In a kingdom of serpents and dragons, one would assume they would remain the apex predator—feared by all and fearful of none; though, what she saw … led her to believe anything but.

Fear was etched onto the faces of the courtiers.

Poised to fight, Tharen loomed. Az cracked his knuckles, flames casting deep shadows over his dusky skin.

Graves’s gloved hands gripped her elbows tightly. Bastian appeared at ease—fangs flashed, and his red eyes glowed, radiating a lust for blood.

She turned her head, seeing Vale. The beginnings of a monster.

The King’s wildly regal face was etched with indomitable power. His features rippled, growing larger. The cracking of bones. A groan of strained pain. The spark of embers. And a beast was born.