Page 62 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

HUNTER AND PREY

LUELLA

T he horse’s coat prickled against Luella’s palms.

"Shh, settle," Luella soothed as she stroked her hand over the side of the steed. She heard him whinny, a soft stirring of air, rustling her hair against her temples.

She was in the stables, seeking shelter from the storm as she waited for the others to arrive.

The rain beat on the roof, wind gusting through from somewhere, forcing a shiver deep into her bones.

It smelled of dust and faintly of manure.

Her nose wrinkled. But underneath the odor was the dry warmth of fresh hay.

Osa—Luella presumed because her silken blankets had been ripped away—had awoken her early.

Luella had forgone a bath. Az hadn’t been there, and she couldn’t handle going in the water alone.

Could barely stomach it with the demon there.

She couldn’t imagine what would happen if she attempted it by herself again.

Her heart picked up at the thought of deep water—salty and violent, with reaching hands and aching lungs.

Her eyes were tired under the blindfold.

Sleep tugged her down, but she resisted.

It would be a long day of training. She didn’t want to go through what had happened yesterday again.

Her body was sore, and everything felt strange, like her insides had been turned out, only to be forced back inside all… wrong .

The horse whinnied lowly, hooves stomping on the hay-covered ground .

Luella clicked her tongue. "It’s okay."

Another whinny, and a voice from behind her:

"Hello, I-I’m sorry to interrupt. Master Tharen didn’t tell me anyone would be in here."

It was a male’s voice, one unfamiliar to her. Hesitant and young.

Her hands stilled against the horse. "Oh," she managed softly.

She turned her head, searching for the source of the voice.

The young male gasped. "You’re blind."

Her brows furrowed at the rude observation. "I suppose I am. Temporarily, at least."

"I didn’t mean to offend." A pause. "What’s your name?"

There was no use lying. And for some reason, Luella was compelled to be honest. This young male did not seem to be a threat. His voice was tinged with a soft playfulness. It had been so long since she had been in the presence of true kindness.

"Luella," she replied.

A sharp intake of air. "You’re the P-Princess," said the young male.

She nodded. He didn’t speak for some time, and the horse moved closer to her, desperate to be soothed. She picked up her soft strokes against his flank.

She wondered what expression he might wear. Was the young male angry with her? Was he frightened? She was no threat to him.

"Do you like horses?" Luella inquired softly.

"Yes. Master Tharen allows me to help out in the stables." A clinking noise, and she froze, thinking of the sharp zing of a blade, poised to strike her down. "I came to refresh their feed."

At his words, she was hit with a brief moment of remembrance. The way this young male said Master Tharen and the slight impishness to his tone…

"What is your name? You sound familiar to me."

"I’m Ori, Princess," said the young male.

And Luella was hit with fear: bound hands, torn gown, teary eyes; and a red-haired male, young and free, as he stood with the army.

"Ori," she whispered. "I remember you… you were there. "

"I-I was," Ori said reluctantly. "I thought it was you, but you look different. I was not sure, Princess."

"You do not have to call me Princess . I am no longer one." Luella didn’t address his unsaid question about her change in appearance.

Footsteps, and she tried not to flinch when she felt him right beside her. The horse was calm, and she tried to use that as a way to keep herself calm, too. Animals knew much about hidden motives. If this horse were settled in Ori’s presence, he was not a threat.

"Would you like to feed him?" Ori asked.

"Oh… I would."

Metal clanked, and Luella recognized the sound for what it was: a pail.

"Can I have your hand?"

"Why?" Luella held her closed fists to her chest, misplaced fear niggling against her.

"To give you a carrot."

Slowly, she held out her hand, and she felt a long carrot as it was placed in her palm.

The horse huffed, interested in the food in her hand. A small smile broke free on her lips, the action unfamiliar and awkward. A hoof stomped almost petulantly.

Luella held out the carrot, careful to keep her fingers far away from where she imagined the horse’s snout to be. He bit the end, teeth chomping down in a near hollow, loud sound as he chewed.

Her smile widened as she gave the rest of the carrot to the horse. She threw the end to the ground when it was too small, scared to get too close to his strong teeth.

"Ori, why do you refer to Tharen as your master?"

The horse finished chewing, wet snout butting against her palm as he searched for more.

"Master Tharen saved me. I am alive because of him. It is no hardship to have him as my master."

For not the first time, an innocent proclaimed to be saved by the psychotic Prima. Nyx, and now Ori.

"I find it hard to believe he is so kind-hearted," Luella whispered.

"Make no mistake," Ori said. "Master Tharen is not a kind male, but he cares for those he deems worthy. I will forever be in his debt. "

His tone was matter-of-fact, and she couldn’t wrap her head around it.

The horse grew unsettled once more, and Tharen’s voice rang out through the stables:

"Ori, Osa has asked for you."

Was her fire-tempered maid and this young male related?

"Good day, Princess." His tone was filled with mischief.

She mumbled a half-hearted farewell, listening to his footsteps as he left.

"Master Tharen," Ori teased, voice further away, "she’s pretty. Are you sure she’s just a captive?

" His light words cut off with a yelp, and Tharen chuckled.

It was a softer sound, lacking the usual malice.

"Mind your business, Ori, or I’ll tell your father I caught you meddling in the kitchens with the cook again," Tharen warned.

"Yes, Master!" Ori quickly replied. His steps crunched over the dry hay on the ground as he retreated.

Now alone with the mage, the jovial lilt to his tone grew hard as he said, "What did you two talk about?"

Luella smiled softly. She liked Ori. He was kind, almost like a younger brother. "Carrots," she simply replied.

"Carrots?" Tharen repeated as he walked closer to her. She felt him at her side, and she shivered.

How could a male such as he save someone? She wanted to ask him, but the words tangled in her throat, held back by fear.

There was a brief silence and a soft knock on the pail at her feet. Something hard poked against her bottom lip, and she jerked back.

"What—" The hard thing pressed against her mouth, digging into her lip.

"Come on," Tharen teased. "I thought lambs ate carrots."

She moved her head to the side. "You’re a-awful."

Tharen pulled the carrot away from her mouth.

"But at least I can satisfy you. Do you have any plans to bathe with the demon again?

Do let me know so I can prepare." He stroked his fingers over the side of her cheek.

"Or better yet, don’t. I love the thought of you popping into my bed, desperate and wanting. "

Her cheeks were hot at the image. She would never give him what he wanted.

She opened her mouth to tell him this, but a large door creaked open and footsteps echoed off what she imagined to be the tall ceilings of the stables.

"Tharen," Vale called out. "I hope you are not teasing her. She’s not to be wound up before we train."

Tharen’s fingers curled slightly against her cheek. "Intense emotions make her powers stronger. I’m merely conducting an experiment." His tone was flat, and something in her chest ached at the thought of him viewing her as some inanimate object. He stepped away, and she exhaled in relief.

The threads in her soul hummed at their proximity. She knew they were all here.

"Prepare the horses," Graves said as he passed by her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, only for them, "You’ll be riding with me again, sweetheart."

Quickly, they saddled the horses. She mounted with the help of Graves, who held her closely the whole journey.

His gloved palms stroked absently against her lower stomach, and every shift of the horse had her belly clench in awareness.

Bastian whispered soft conversation with her in her mind, light topics of books and poetry.

Vale and Tharen were up ahead, she felt from the threads, never breaking their fast pace as they led them to the place from yesterday.

The steady song of her and Az’s thread was muted today. She mourned the sweet, niggling of it against her soul, almost as though a blanket had been thrown over it to keep it quiet.

The rain never let up the entire journey, drenching her through her cloak. Her skin was damp under her clothes. It relented, a loud pitter-patter as it fell onto the thick canopy above, and she knew they were almost there.

Graves dismounted first, then gripped her waist and helped her down. She stumbled into him, her lower body sore. "Walk this way," he mumbled as he took her hand.

He led her a few steps, her boots sinking into the muddy ground. She found herself missing the snow.

"Where is Az?" she whispered.

Graves placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her just so. "He’s here, sweetheart."

Something about his tone made Luella anxious.

"We’ll start with our grounding exercises like yesterday," Tharen announced from beside her. "Let her go," he demanded of Graves.

And the raven shifter took a damp curl of her hair between his fingers, letting it pool like silk before he stepped away from her entirely.

She had had touch for some hours now, and to suddenly be without it… It made her wary. "I want to speak with Az first."

Tharen scoffed. "No."

"Let me speak with Vale, then," she countered.

The twisted thread that burned like embers grew shorter.