Page 53 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

SIGHTLESS

LUELLA

I t was dark, dark…

Dark.

Luella struggled to breathe.

"I don’t like this." She tugged at her blindfold, fingers curling in silk—but it wouldn’t budge. "T-Tharen? Graves? Help ," she pleaded. "I changed my mind."

Over the sound of her pounding heart and ragged breaths, she couldn’t detect either of the males. She felt utterly alone. Like she had been buried alive, left to cry and plead for a savior that would never come.

Hands gripped hers, tugging them away from the blindfold.

"Settle down," Tharen barked.

She jumped at his nearness, the feeling of his hands on her wrists, the tiny tingle that sparked from the touch. The threads cried out. She felt their ends respond, the length of the invisible threads growing shorter and shorter with every passing moment she struggled to take a full breath.

A hard chest bumped into her back, and she felt the silk grow damp from her tears, soaking them all up.

Breath against her skin. Warm, calloused fingers pressed against the back of her neck, rubbing against her spine. "Sweetheart, focus on my voice," said Graves .

She whimpered, caught by Tharen in front of her and the raven shifter behind her.

The feel of their skin against hers was amplified in the absence of sight. Their scents… It was like everything had been magnified.

The icy sharpness of winter before her, cloves mingling with traces of sweet honey behind her.

"Focus on my voice." Graves hushed her, firmly gripping her nape. "Focus on my skin against yours. What do you feel?" His lips pressed against the space where her shoulder met her neck, his stubble scratching her skin.

She shivered. "I f-feel… you."

"Good. What else?" Graves’s voice was low.

Tharen’s thumb stroked over her wrist absently, as if he were not aware he was doing it.

"Tharen is touching my wrists," she whispered.

At her words, Tharen’s soft touches stilled, then he roughly let her go. She stumbled back into Graves’s chest.

There was a thump of heavily booted feet against the floors as Tharen walked away, and her head swiveled as she tried to follow where he may be going.

"I don’t like this," Luella whispered. Her hands fumbled before her, and she reached for the blindfold once more. Graves did not stop her as she skimmed a finger over the cool silk, damp from her tears.

She tried to tug it off, but it would not budge, as if fused to her skin.

A fierce whimper tore from her chest.

"Sweetheart, stop," Graves quietly demanded. "Focus on the sounds in the room, ground yourself."

Her ears strained. Faintly, she heard the trickle of water as it fell into the pools.

And further still, rain.

She imagined water falling from thick clouds. With every breath she took, the intensity grew until it was all she could hear. But the panic within her slowed.

The threads rejoiced, and voices boomed throughout the library .

"What have you done?" The King’s voice echoed; it was all she could focus on.

She jerked her hands away from the blindfold, pressing back into Graves’s chest.

The footsteps grew closer, multiplying.

The threads inside her were a storm of violence, answering to her unspoken terror.

Rich bergamot made her dizzy. The threads tugged her forward, constricting around her soul. Whether it was reacting to her panic or because she was sightless, they were louder and stronger than she had ever felt since she had changed.

"We felt—" Bastian broke off. She wanted to see him. Where was he? She turned her head, searching in the darkness. Bastian’s voice turned steely. "What is this?"

Graves squeezed her nape. "Ask him ," he said.

She heard a clatter, something falling.

"Hey, hey," Tharen urged.

Graves’s touch grounded her; she didn’t want him to pull away, didn’t want to be left to drift alone in a sea of darkness.

"What have you done, Prima?" Az seethed, and she melted at his voice—filled with anger but on her behalf.

"Calm down. We only made a little deal, that’s all," Tharen droned. He sounded uncaring, but she smelled burning embers—was it from Vale’s dragon fire or the Prima’s magic of Ignis?

She hated to be so unknowing, so unaware.

Cold hands against hers, soft and untouched by hardships—Bastian. "Pet, what happened? Tell me so I can help stop this."

She tilted her head to where she thought he was, chin trembling as she said, "I made a d-deal with… with Tharen."

"What deal?" Bastian implored. His fingers pressed against her temples, rubbing over the silk.

Suddenly, she felt him inside her. Everything narrowed down to him in her mind, drowning out the crashes and cursing in the room.

Bastian sifted through her memories like sand, pulling, plucking, and inspecting. She shivered at the intrusion. He was not gentle in his urgency. Finally, he pulled away, but his hands stayed, falling to cup her cheeks, turning her head slightly to the left .

"Luella, I-I—" She had never heard Bastian stutter before. "I cannot believe he would do this…"

She swallowed. "I asked for this." Her voice was quiet, but the noise in the room ceased.

"That’s fucking right, she did." Heavy footsteps as Tharen walked toward her. He grabbed her hand and tugged her away from the cocoon of Bastian and Graves. She stumbled, fearful of tripping.

Low growls filled the room, and one of the threads shyly wrapped around her soul a little tighter, as if to assure her, just as large, warm hands took hold of her elbow, patting along to ensure she was okay.

"Lu, angel. Why?" Az said.

She wished she could see her demon’s face. Her free hand hesitantly reached out, searching for him. He grabbed her with strength, hands squeezing as he lifted her arm and pressed a soft, wet kiss to the back of her hand, flipping it and doing the same to her palm.

"What you said earlier," she whispered in reply. He stilled, mouth against her palm, breaths tickling her skin. "I have to know how to use my magic." She licked her lips, feeling more than one set of eyes on her as she spoke. It felt like a private moment, but she knew it was not.

"And you thought the best way was to make a godsdamned deal with Tharen ?" Vale spat. She realized until that point, he had been relatively silent besides his initial accusation.

Smoke burned her nostrils. "He’s a mage. He has elemental magic, and so do I. I thought if anyone would know how to train me, it would be him—" Her words cut off in a yelp as footsteps thundered toward her.

Rings cut into her palm as Vale gripped her hand and yanked her away from Az and Tharen.

Vale shook her. " You are a fool. " His words were coated in vitriol.

Luella was suddenly glad she could not see; she didn’t think she would be able to stand the anger and disgust that would be on his face.

Something thudded.

A sharp crack echoed throughout the library, followed by the heavy slam of a book against the floor and the unmistakable clatter of tables being overturned.

Vale’s hands were ripped away from her.

And she was drifting in a space of nothingness—everywhere and nowhere, and she remembered…

A place of only darkness, the faintest smattering of stars against a backdrop of inky night. The whiz of a falling star, warm and playful as it lingered against her fingertips.

What place do you think of? Bastian’s awed voice filled her mind and swept her away from thoughts of somewhere else, somewhere other.

A place that is everywhere, she replied, and nowhere.

The rain grew louder, and she was alone, no touch to anchor her. The threads tugged, and she tangled her fingers in her hair and pulled, feeling the silk of her blindfold—her cage.

Her heart thundered in her chest, and the sounds of fighting grew louder, strangled curses and thumps, the thud of flesh against flesh.

She whimpered, knees going weak as she fell in a heap to the floor. Her body curved inward to protect herself against the violence and pounding rain.

A crescendo of feeling built and built inside her—and finally, it popped.

"Stop it!" Luella screamed, and she felt the water in the fountain as it surged upward, as if she were sharing her senses with the water and had become one with it.

Currents of ice roared above them all, and she shivered, curled into a ball on the floor, unable to stop it.

Hands gripped her shoulders, tugging her face away from where she had tucked it into her shoulder. Like a doll, she moved easily.

"Luella. Luella, listen to me. Listen !"

It was Vale who implored her so desperately.

She shook her head, trembling at the thought of the water she could feel poised above them all, ready to drown them.

Saltwater in her lungs, a hand on her throat…

She sobbed. "N-no."

She could feel the roaring waves undulate in the air, and mist coated her skin and frizzed her hair. It sounded like she was behind a waterfall.

Bastian’s cold hand tugged hers from her hair; her scalp throbbed. "Listen to us, Luella. You have to calm down," he said soothingly.

"I can’t," she nearly wailed.

Vale’s touch pulled her away from that distant place. "You can, and you will."

His insistence, his demand, made the Binding mark on her chest burn, and she had no choice but to answer his command. Willed by his order, the power inside her shrank. It was painful, unnatural. Her soul felt like it may crack as it was forced back, deep within her.

She felt the water recede, dribbling back into the fountain as if nothing had ever happened. The air grew quiet but held a dampness. Her clothes were mist-covered, water on her skin.

"It’s gone?" she whispered, even though she knew the answer, could feel it.

"It is over," said Vale. She felt him right before her. Robbed of sight, it made things easier, in a way, knowing she couldn’t see their disappointment or anger.

Bastian and Vale both helped her stand, but Vale did not release his hold on her. She felt him against her side, possessive and smoky.

She trembled, body aching at the power that had been forced back inside her. She did not know what to say or do.