Page 4 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

It seemed Enora did, too, for a blush warmed her pale cheeks.

Luella studied the female closely. Her eyes were brown, her skin was pale, and her hair was brown, but Luella did not see anything else of note. Nothing to help her determine what nature of female she was.

Caliban pulled his hands away from hers and reached up to tuck a silky tendril of her hair behind her ear. She did not have the arched ears of the fae, and her body did not hold the preternatural aura that most shifters had.

Was she…

Luella’s blue eyes grew wide as she regarded the pair.

Was this female a human ?

A human and fae relationship—it was unheard of.

The fae were pious and detested humans, even though they, themselves, weren’t much different than the humans. Save for their lifespans, slightly enhanced senses, and magical prowess with their born element.

Enora’s grin grew impish, and she reached up to tug on the strand of hair that fell in Caliban’s eyes. He hissed at the sharp pull, but an elated smile gave away his false anger.

Quick as a flash, the female bolted out of his embrace, her skirts fluttering behind her as she ran straight for the lake. Her feet splashed as she entered, and she went up to her knees, gathering her skirts in a hand to keep them as dry as she was able.

Enora did not look over her shoulder as she called, "Caliban, the water’s not too cold! Come!"

Luella turned her attention back to the male, watching as his green eyes sparkled with mirth. He shook his head, an amused, soft puff of air falling from between his lips as he watched Enora, never knowing that he was being watched, too.

Was this a dream? A vivid tale spun by Luella’s story-filled imagination? Or something else… Something more.

A memory? A piece of the past? History?

She did not know. She could only be entranced by what it was she saw.

Caliban tilted his head back, black hair tumbling to his shoulders, unruly and wild and free. He was so open for a fae. She watched as he let out a loud, barking laugh. It rang throughout the forest and bounced off the lake, a singular moment of joy amidst a curtain of quiet .

His hands reached for the hem of his tunic—it was then that Luella took note of what he was wearing.

Fine silk, spun with threads of gold. His pants were leather, and his boots were impeccable, with the faintest hint of mud on the soles: an errant adventurer—the son of a noble or someone of importance by the make of his clothing.

She found a soft smile forcing her lips to stretch as she stared at him. He was similar to her, rebelling against the mold he should fit into.

Caliban pulled his silken tunic over his head, throwing it haphazardly onto the ground as he tore toward the water. Like being thrust into a frigid bath, Luella’s elation at watching the lovers was quelled.

On Caliban’s bare back, whipping marks. Long, pale scars crossed over the skin of his back, interspersed with newer, angry lines that looked to be on their way to a tentative healing.

His movements did not give away a hint of discomfort, but the wounds must have been hurting him. He wore no bandages.

A hand fluttered to Luella’s mouth, and she swallowed thickly.

Enora squealed a laugh as Caliban barreled into the lake, water splashing up around them and getting into both of their faces.

Her gown was completely soaked, and she gave up on trying to keep it out of the water, letting her skirts fall around her legs.

He splashed toward her, his knees picking up high to stave off the downward pull of the water.

A playful growl tore from his lips as he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her to him.

His chest was slick with water, and her gown stuck to her indecently as she pressed herself flush to him.

Luella felt her cheeks warm, but she could not bring herself to look away.

Caliban gathered her to him and lifted her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and he notched an arm under her thighs, using the water to help keep her afloat. No longer the aura of a giddy, escaping couple, but the beginnings of lovers sharing breath and becoming one.

Caliban ran his finger over Enora’s pale cheeks, collecting a few water droplets, before leaning down to capture his mouth with hers. Enora melted into him; she shimmied up his body, arms gripping his shoulders as though she desired to meld herself into him.

Their mouths moved with familiarity, and Luella watched with curiosity.

She had never seen anyone kiss before. It was like a well-practiced dance, the way they both moved together.

Caliban kissed her like he was trying to devour her whole.

A trembling breath escaped from Luella’s lips as she watched, remembering libraries and gloves; chilled touches and a blood vow…

Had she and Graves looked like that?

What about her and Bastian, when she had risen on her tiptoes to press a quick, close-mouthed kiss upon his stone-cold cheek?

Had she looked like Enora, wanting and desperate?

Luella brushed a finger over her lips, tracing the shape of them. Suddenly, she wanted to try kissing again. The first time with Graves had been odd. She had not been sure if she liked it, even while a part of her wanted to be kissed and touched by him forever.

Maybe… No, that was absurd. She would not be kissing him again. Or anyone.

Her hand drifted from her lips to the skin over her heart, the small red mark of her deal with Bastian—a kiss he would come to collect…

Caliban and Enora had grown quiet, no longer laughing as their kisses turned heated.

Caliban traced his tongue over her ear, down her neck, and across her chest. Enora’s wet gown stuck to her, and she could just barely make out the shape of the female’s breasts, while Luella’s own hand rested over the swell of her chest, over the reminder of her deal with the vampire.

Her mouth grew dry as she watched the lovers, a yearning sadness taking hold of her with ferocity.

The fae male gripped Enora’s pale thigh, bracing each of his hands under her as he hoisted her up, rising out of the water as he walked to the bank.

Water dripped from their hair and clothes, but neither seemed bothered by it.

Caliban laid her down on top of the shirt he had thrown on the ground.

Her brown, silky hair fanned out around her as he stood over her, hands resting on the buckle of his belt.

"Okay?" he asked. His voice shook .

Enora nodded, thighs falling open as her hand reached for her skirts, drawing them up her legs to where they fell at her thighs. Caliban groaned at the sight, roughly undoing the buckle on his belt as he tugged it free and dropped it on the ground.

Enora’s chest rose and fell heavily, and she gave a breathless sigh as he settled over her body, his hips between hers as her thighs bracketed his body.

It was indecent. They were on the cusp of a union, but Luella still could not tear herself away.

From the tempting promise of what she might one day have.

Her breath quickened as Caliban’s hand disappeared under Enora’s skirt, her nose scrunching up with a wince as he did something with his hand.

He paused. "I’m sorry. I’m trying to be gentle, but it’s so hard when you look like this."

"It’s not you. It’s just… been a while." Her chin dipped, abashed. "Give me a moment."

They paused, their breaths syncing, and Luella was transfixed by whatever it was he was doing to her under the privacy of her gown. After some moments, Enora’s hips started to shift, and the pinched look on her features became one of wanton desire.

"Please, Caliban," she breathed.

And he answered by resuming the motion of his hand, the muscles in his forearms flexing. Enora’s breaths grew sharp and quick the longer Caliban worked her, and her skirts were almost completely above her waist, only barely hiding what they were doing.

Just when Luella felt herself grow equally needy, her thighs clenching where she stood as her hand stayed pressed to her breast, he stopped.

She found herself as disheartened as Enora was, as the female let out a discontented huff.

He pulled his hand out from under her skirts, quickly shoving down his pants.

Luella gasped. Blessedly, he was hidden by the way he was lying over her.

"Are you ready for me?" he asked.

"Always," she replied. "Please."

Luella’s heart was a drumbeat in her chest. She found herself taking a step forward, unbidden, driven to watch.

The air shimmered around her, the space between her thighs growing damp and slick as she rubbed them together. Her breaths were loud, as were theirs.

Luella’s lids fell closed—touches, lips against her skin.

Memories of angel being whispered over her cheeks.

And she opened her eyes. The lake reflected the sun, and the lovers lay upon the bed of grass, entwined. She wanted to imprint this image into her mind forever. She wanted this, too.

Their forms rippled like the surface of the lake, the tree tops fizzled, and her legs felt unsteady, unable to hold her up.

She blinked—the scent of cloves and honey melted against her skin, warming her from the inside.

Enora’s eyes were squeezed shut, her back arching, chest forced up into his. Caliban braced an arm by her head, hips moving as he leaned down to press a soft, gentle kiss against her temple.

The sight of the lake tilted to the side… Or maybe that was Luella.

And she was forced to leave this space.

A unison of pleased moans echoed throughout, following her as she woke up.