Page 46 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)
TO WATCH YOU DREAM
LUELLA
T he double doors to the King’s private sitting room slammed shut as Vale cornered her. She stepped back, but he closed the distance.
He crowded her against a large lounge, looming closer and closer. She was forced to arch her back, balancing on the balls of her feet so she wouldn’t topple backward—or fall forward into his chest.
The scent of crackling embers filled the room, and she wracked her brain… Had she ever been alone with this male before?
Luella swallowed thickly.
Vale’s eyes dipped to her throat, and he trailed a finger over the side of her neck, where the bruising had been.
"He will never be able to hurt you again," said the King. He was an enigma, promising safety at one moment, then lording his power over her the next.
Her lips parted as she stared up at him. His thighs bracketed hers; he took one last step forward, and she could no longer hold her odd position.
Luella toppled back onto the softness of the lounge, a noise of protest tearing from her lips as her white hair fanned out, a hand falling by the side of her head. She stared up at the ceiling, tracing the gold filigree that bordered the walls.
Vale stood over her, bracing his hands on the side of the cushions. Her knees brushed his legs, and the ice around her heart melted as he folded himself over her, wrapping her in his dragon’s heat. The green of his eyes shimmered like emeralds mixed with grass in the summer.
She blinked, seeing a perfect bed of grass in a meadow, two lovers lying upon the blades, bodies flush as mouths and hands roved in languid exploration.
Coming back to herself, she was grounded by a touch under her chin, a hand locking with the one by her head. The line of Vale’s body did not quite touch her as his hot hand gripped hers with possessive desperation. The finger under her chin forced her gaze to his.
Would he look at her with such intent in the Temples of Aedis, when she would be forced to give herself to him?
"What thoughts are behind those eyes?" murmured the King. His fingers dipped from her chin to the fastening on her cape. He unclipped it with ease and brushed the dark material from her shoulders, baring the three connected circles on her chest, a line straight down them.
She trembled as he brushed a finger over the Binding mark, voice soft as she said, "Is that a demand? Must I tell you honestly?"
"Tell me what you are thinking." A demand. The side of his lip quirked. Under his fingertips, the mark swelled threateningly if she dared to refuse him.
"I thought—" She strained against his demand… "I was thinking of the Temples of Aedis. How it would have felt between us."
At the words forced from her—words she wasn’t sure she had truly recognized, herself—shame washed over her like ocean waves. She couldn’t look at him, instead focusing on a small strip of tanned skin at the base of his throat.
The burning scent of embers worked to assuage her worries, and slowly, he pulled away from her. Bereft, she trembled in the absence of his heat, unable to meet his knowing gaze.
"Luella, look at me," ordered Vale.
She did. He extended his hand, and after a moment of hesitation, she took it, allowing him to pull her up. Now sitting, she folded her hands on her lap, nervously peeking at him out of the corner of her eye as he sat beside her .
A low table sat in front of the lounge, holding a few glasses, a stack of books, and a… a latrunculi board.
"You play?" she asked, trying to shift the topic as she reached for one of the pieces atop the board. A small horse carved out of stone; she ran her thumb over the side, feeling the smoothness of it.
"On occasion," said Vale. He took the piece from her and set it back on the board. "In the Temples of Aedis, I will not merely hold your hand, Luella, and you will not be able to act so unfeeling when you are under me. It will not be something you detest, I promise you that."
"Oh," Luella managed. She stared at the latrunculi board, lifting the piece he had just sat down and moving it a few spaces over. He regarded her with curiosity, and she sat back, waiting for him to make a move.
Slowly, the King reached for another piece, the opposing stone lighter in color than her chosen piece. He expertly moved it across the board, crossing the few empty spaces between their pieces as he overtook her.
"Your move," he urged. As she contemplated the best move, he continued… "Make no mistake, our journey will approach swiftly as soon as the period of mourning is over, and you will know just how it feels to truly be underneath me."
She lost concentration, her hand hovering over a stone piece.
Always alone, it had been rare for her to find a game partner, leaving her confidence in her abilities lacking.
She searched his frame, finding the smallest tap of a ringed finger on his thigh.
A soft smile graced her lips as she lifted the piece and moved it toward the left.
Unsure, she paused, but he gave a heavy sigh, motioning a hand for her to move one more spot over, right over his own.
Vale picked up his piece and pressed it into her hand. "You captured me." His eyes narrowed in thought before he shook his head, correcting himself… "You captured the piece."
"I prefer the first phrase," she murmured.
"Of course you would." He quickly corrected his blunder and overtook two of her pieces.
"Vale…" she started. He looked from the board to her, long fi ngers resting over the pieces, poised to strike and take her—again. "Why the Temples? I thought shifters were not pious."
"We have gods just as the fae. Our gods are far less constrictive, though," Vale said.
A noise of surprise escaped her. "I always thought the shifters were bound to none but themselves."
Vale hummed. "Not quite. Our worship is more of a mutual understanding than feelings of impending death if we fail to obey. We treat them as friends rather than masters."
"That sounds nice," she whispered. And it did.
The many gods of the fae were nameless and old; she often felt that if she did not carry herself a certain way or think a certain way, she would be struck by lightning and charred to a crisp for her blasphemous thoughts.
Her interest was piqued by the notion of such worship. "What are the names of your gods?"
Vale lifted the final piece. Their game was almost finished.
He had collected all of her pieces save for one—the most important of them all.
Her breath hitched as he held her eyes, waving the piece over the board as if in thought of where to move; absurd, seeing as there was a clear path to victory.
The King merely hummed, green eyes sparkling.
She blinked… Stardust streaked through the sky, tendrils of warmth playing upon her palm as if the stardust were sentient.
"There is one." His face darkened. "And another," he added.
"What other?"
Vale moved across the board, finally overtaking her last piece. He owned all of her; nearly her every move had been intercepted.
A bitter moue fell upon her lips.
"I win," he murmured, sitting back and crossing a leg over his thigh.
"So you have," she said softly. "Have you ever lost?" She was talking about much more than the game.
"Only when it comes to matters different than strategy."
The softly quiet sitting room was filled with a candlelit warmth, putting her at ease as she said, "Feelings, emotions, those are different than strategy, Vale.
Are those the things you speak of?" Smoke wafted from his nostrils, permeating the air between them.
Her answer was in the rigid lines of his shoulders. "Those are the most important."
In that moment, he did not seem like her captor, but a part of her would never forget that truth. Especially when he surged forward, making her jump.
Vale gripped the sides of the board and flipped it, sending the stone pieces scattering about the room. The loud clatter and sudden movement made her heart pound. He stood and pointed a finger at her as he loomed over her. "I own you. Do not test me."
"I-I am sorry," she stammered, hands fluttering to her throat. She shrank back against the cushion, head light with fear as her heart worked to keep her anxious blood roaring through her veins.
He roughly ran a hand through his hair, pacing near the windows at the side of the room. The glass let in scant sunlight now. The sky was dark—the thick, pure white blanket of snow-filled clouds overtaken by the gloomy roil of an incoming tempest.
The fall of snow had slowed in the time they’d been locked away in his sitting room. She shivered as the dark clouds drew nearer, swiftly moving through the sky. Distantly, she heard the rumble of thunder.
Vale turned toward her. The glass windows and encroaching darkness in the sky made him appear foreboding. His voice was strained as he said, "There is one thing we have not yet discussed." She knew what he would say before he even spoke. "Caliban."
He came to sit beside her once more, taking an empty glass from the table and filling it with water. He offered it to her to drink. Aware of her parchedness, she took it and sipped lightly, allowing the cool, crystalline liquid to fill her with strength.
There was the slightest bitter undertone, but she attributed it to the fact that it had been sitting in the open air for some time. The King did not drink.
"Bastian said you heard the name in your dreams?" he prodded.
She nodded, licking her lips. "It’s hard to say, exactly, but my dreams have been strange since I awoke with my p-powers…
" She stumbled over the word, unable to claim the fact that she possessed power.
"Whenever I wake up, I cannot remember what it was I dreamed, only flashes, feelings.
" She shivered and placed the glass of wa ter down, blinking away a sudden wave of exhaustion as she rested on the cushions.
"Caliban is someone I once knew," Vale started, "but not any longer. If you say you are dreaming of him, I worry that this war may be lost before it has truly begun."
He regarded her sudden drowsy state without a drop of concern. It was then that she felt worried.
"Did you… Did you put something in the water?" she mumbled.
The room tilted to the side. Or maybe she did.
Within the space of one breath and the next, she found herself staring up at the ceiling on her back. Her words came out slow and airy as she asked, "Why?"
Vale’s face appeared above her, fading in and out as her lids fluttered. "To watch you dream."