Page 50 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)
ELEMENTAL TRAINING
THAREN
" W here are you going?" Tharen’s voice echoed in the dark halls as he saw the cloaked figure. Dainty and lithe—no coverings could ever hide her from him.
She stilled, caught, and Tharen smiled.
He stalked forward, gripping her by the elbow.
Luella whipped her head to him, the hood of her cloak falling back to reveal moon-touched hair and porcelain skin. The corners of her biteable lips turned down. "To find answers," she said.
Tharen arched a brow, letting his fingers release her arm, one by one. "Don’t stop on my account, little lamb." He stepped back, letting her go.
She did so carefully, like prey knowing they were being played with before being eaten.
He ran a tongue over his lower lip, following her closely as she walked into the library. Her head brushed his chest. He resisted the urge to throw her down onto one of the plush chairs and peel the cloak away from her body.
The soft drip of water from the fountain seemed to distract Luella. She grew still, then shook her head, steps determined as she made for the towering stacks of tomes.
The light was dim tonight, the moon covered by the thick, dark clouds. He could barely see his lamb’s pretty face. That wouldn’t do.
With a mere wave of a hand, flames sparked to life, bathing them both in amber light. The shadows under her eyes were deep from lack of sleep, but she was no less enticing. The godsdamned call of their bond roared like the thick fall of rain outside.
"Why did you follow me?" she asked softly, venturing deeper into the stacks.
"Why not?" Tharen taunted. "What’s a little nightly tryst… Scared Vale will be pissed that you’d give your pleasure to me first?"
"N-no!" Luella turned away from him, grabbing a book and flipping through it, studying its contents with intent.
But it was upside down.
He smirked, plucking the book out of her hands and turning it the right way. "Little hard to read it like that." He hummed.
There was a charge in the air, crackling like lightning, and maybe it was just the fire in Tharen’s palms, but he swore that her blue eyes seemed to glow .
The scent of paper and her made his cock fucking ache, and he copied her footsteps as she walked into the deeper parts of the library.
"What kind of answers are you looking for?" he inquired; though, he had his suspicions.
She paused at a divergence in the path before she turned to the left, body winding through the thin stacks. He watched the back of her pale hand as it trailed over wooden shelves and book spines, pushing his tongue into his cheek with every moment she failed to respond.
Tharen tangled his fingers in the back of her cloak. "I asked you a question."
"Your mark is not on my chest, T-Tharen… I do not o-owe you an explanation."
"Stuttering little thing. You’re so intimidated by me, hm?
" He leaned down, breathing over the back of her neck. Her steps faltered only slightly before she resumed her determined, hurried pace through the shelves. "You haven’t seen the half of what I can do. Don’t test my limits, lamb, you won’t like the result. "
Tharen’s eyes roved over the back of her. Her thick cloak was unassuming, but on her, it held sinful temptations. Her backside swayed with every step, and the fire in his palm burned brighter. Fuck.
The magic of Ignis and Terra had always been easiest controlled by him, but he felt his firm control shake, droplets of water mingling with fire and causing smoky ash to fall in the air, before a few flames were snuffed out by whispers of air.
He gritted his teeth, wrestling control back. "Godsdammit," he grumbled lowly.
Luella cocked her head as she watched him, breaths puffing before her as the air grew colder, tinged with the scent of pine and salted air.
And in a whirl of fluttering leaves, Tharen stumbled into one of the shelves, books digging into his back, as something hit his shoulder.
"Master Tharen!" Nyxila, the impishly jovial sprite he had rescued, fluttered before him, her dark green hair tumbling over her shoulders as a cute smile dimpled her cheeks. "You’re here!"
Tharen couldn’t help the small smile that broke free. He so loved rescuing broken, hurt things—his wolves, the sprite…
Luella…
The mage reached up with a large hand, letting the sprite sit on his palm as she kicked her feet happily, tiny fingers gripping his thumb for balance as her wings fluttered behind her.
"Nyxila," Tharen addressed.
The sprite was so caught up in him that she jolted on his hand when footsteps brushed against the stone floors, her head turning to find Luella backing up, hands nervously fumbling before her as she caught the sprite’s eyes.
Nyxila’s mouth popped open, and she drifted from his palm, wings beating softly as she swayed in the air before Luella, verdant eyes wide. "Lu?" The sprite sounded shocked, reaching up to tug on a strand of his lamb’s white hair.
"Nyx," Luella breathed.
Curious, Tharen eyed them. He knew how Luella and the demon had escaped into the tunnels and stumbled upon a gateway to the Silva Noctis, but he never would have figured her to have found help.
However, it was clear she and the sprite were acquainted— built on a foundation of lies, he soon realized, when Nyxila’s eyes slanted, wings fluttering anew, little hands clenched by her sides.
"You lied to me," the sprite spat, her high voice holding much more anger than he would’ve thought for such a tiny thing.
"I did," said Luella. She looked down, white hair falling into her face as the sprite hovered before her. "I am not Lu, but Luella."
Tharen noted she did not mention her title, humble thing she was. That gentle humility may be her demise.
"Was there a good reason for your lies?" questioned Nyxila. The sprite came to rest back on Tharen’s shoulder, waiting.
Luella nodded, sniffling as she looked back up, the tip of her nose tinged with red. Tharen wanted to roll his eyes—she was crying over this? How fucking weak.
"Then I forgive you… But do not lie to me again. I detest lies." The sprite’s voice had turned sweet with forgiveness.
His lamb’s brows furrowed, but she nodded again, left speechless by Nyxila’s quick forgiveness. Sprites were like that, easy to please and not easily angered.
"What happened to your hair?" Nyxila left him, much like a distracted babe, as she hopped on Luella’s shoulder.
"I… changed," Luella stammered.
"It’s pretty! You’re pretty," trilled the sprite. She, once more, left Luella’s side and came to flit about before Tharen, smile turning impish as she questioned, "Isn’t she, Master Tharen? I told her before, she’s much prettier than the females you usually have in your bed chambers."
Luella spluttered, and Tharen let out a deep sigh, the sprite’s words making him think of silken sheets and warm heat. Fuck, it had been too long.
Tharen couldn’t fault the sprite for noting Luella’s beauty—it was undeniable. But his godsdamned reputation couldn’t handle such accusations.
Though he was much enjoying his lamb’s discomfort, all these niceties were getting old.
"Nyxila, we came here for a reason. Lu"—he stressed—"would like to find some answers.
" He wasn’t being generous in offering Luella free rein to explore.
He had an agenda— the more she knew about her powers, the greater chance they could succeed in killing the shadowed bastard, Caliban.
"Of course, Master Tharen. What type of answers do you seek?"
Luella’s blue eyes met his. And in the amber-tinged, deep cavernous spaces of the library, the storm raging on outside, she said, "On elemental training for mages."