Page 71 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

GLADLY, THE VILLAIN

LUELLA

L uella shook in Az’s arms.

In that guttural language of his, he spoke to her, low and muffled by the thing on his face. Straining to hear, she didn’t understand, but she knew his words were meant for soothing. She resisted the urge to let her eyes drift closed.

The threads around her soul had shifted, perhaps when she had been underwater and unaware. But the wintry tendrils between her and Tharen were weaker, brittle. While the thread between her and Graves had grown a bit stronger.

Her body ached, and her lower lip wobbled at the memory of water, hands reaching for her in utter darkness.

In her mind, they were not the hands of Tharen, but an unnamed attacker.

One word stood out from the rest of Az’s mumbling: "Angel."

Her head perked up. "Az," she breathed. Her throat felt sore from throwing up the water; blessedly, there was no burn of salt. It was the first time she had truly been able to hear him since she started training.

The rain was a sluggish drizzle, mirroring her body as she stretched against him.

She just wanted to sleep. Her chest ached, and there was a strange taste on her lips—more than just water, but something more primal .

"I know, pet," Bastian muttered against her hair. His warm breaths puffed against her temples, and she shivered violently.

"You…" Graves’s bare fingers drifted over her lower stomach, gripping her waist. "You stopped breathing."

Somehow, Luella already knew. She had gone somewhere other, not the dark, starry place of her first sleep, but somewhere less sempiternal and more grey-toned and saturnine.

A place of shimmering air and ghostly hands.

She had not been able to see, but she had felt the lifeless pallor around her, sensed something tugging her back.

And then she had awoken.

"I did," she said—not a question. Under the dampened sensations around her, she felt only a muted sense of… anger.

They continued to soothe her, and she felt muted surprise at Graves’s soft, lingering touches.

Voices carried to her on the wind, not quite drowned out.

Snippets of curses.

Words wrapped in ice, sharp and jagged.

The well inside her stirred.

Bastian tensed. He knew of her thoughts, knew of the growing awareness inside her.

"Let me go," she whispered.

Az made no move to do so.

She weakly struggled. "I s-said let me go."

"You’re not yourself right now. Let him hold you," Bastian implored.

Az’s thick fingers gripped her cheek softly as he turned her head up to him.

He was right, oh, how she knew he was right. But the well grew.

And grew.

Her breaths turned labored.

The hands on her body worked to still her.

She felt a feverish desire to go —chase after the welling tempest inside her and see where it would lead.

The fragile parts of her shattered under the battering power inside her.

She felt vines as they shot out of the ground—large tangles interspersed with blooming white roses.

As if she were sensing through the vines, she felt thorns splinter the green skin.

Wicked points searched until they found what they were looking for.

The vines shot forward, curling tightly around Tharen’s legs. She knew, even if she couldn’t truly see.

The thorns cut into the mage’s legs and thighs, wrapping around him like a vise. Blood welled and streamed down his arms from the shallow cuts.

Triumph made her smile faintly. She saw the crimson rivulets as they fell, felt the vines being fed by the iron tang of Tharen’s lifeforce. Watered by blood.

"Are you scared of me?" she asked quietly as she turned her head into Az’s chest. Her words were muffled, but she knew they heard her.

The males around her stilled at her words.

The vines grew from Tharen’s blood. She felt their anger, but she also felt their curiosity as they curled around his limbs. They eagerly drank up his blood but merely made shallow pricks.

Az grumbled but couldn’t respond.

Luella tilted her chin up as she felt the vines grow.

Her voice was but a whisper as she said, "You should be."

She heard Tharen’s strangled noise of shock, a growled curse, and one yell that cut through the roar in her head:

"Luella. Cease !"

The King’s words made the Binding mark pulse, and all at once, the vines disentangled and fell in lifeless heaps to the ground. A sob bubbled up in her chest—she wept for their death.

"Wait, bring them back," she cried as she bucked against the hands on her.

She reached out for the vines but… nothing.

They were gone.

Exhaustion made her sag, and Az gently rocked her.

She didn’t know what any of this meant. The vines—they came from her. She had felt them like her limbs, an extension of herself. And now, they were gone.

A cold touch against her brow, an echoed whisper: "Sleep, pet."

And Luella fell into dreams.

The lake was pristine in the dimming sunlight.

Luella stood by the water’s edge, bare toes scrunching in the grass as she breathed in deeply. The air was crisp, and the treetops swayed from the gentle breeze.

It was the same place as before. The same dream as before. Only this time, something was different. She was aware she was dreaming.

She reached up and touched the amulet on her chest, feeling its soft, pulsating warmth in her palm.

"I can see," Luella realized aloud. Her voice was wavering and low, as if spoken from some great distance.

She cradled the amulet in her hands and lifted it away from her chest.

It was beautiful, just as she imagined. A soft blue stone encased in a cage of delicate silver. She rubbed her thumb over it, feeling the grooves of the cool metal scratch against her finger, so different from the smooth, warm stone held within.

Tharen had made this for her.

The same male who had drowned her. The same male who had first awoken her in her bed, a dagger against her throat, as he ripped her away from everything she had ever known.

But no matter how hard she tried, she could not feel anger here—only longing.

Voices pierced the tranquil air.

"Enora!" a masculine voice called. "Enora. You can’t run from me."

The lake was no longer serene.

With his black hair and pale skin, Caliban strode along the bank, passing a large, jagged collection of rocks near the water. His steps were purposeful. And his eyes.

She stumbled back a step.

His eyes were a muted green, filled with shadows.

"You cannot run from me, Enora. I’ll find you. And when I do, you’re dead ." Caliban slammed his fist against the side of the rock, and a loud crack filled the air.

Shadows teemed in the hidden areas created by the rocks, stretching along the ground, growing larger and larger as they searched.

"I don’t like this." Luella clutched the amulet in her fist as if begging to be released from this nightmare."I want to wake up."

Caliban stalked closer. His fists were clenched by his sides, dark shadows curling around his fingertips.

"When he fucked you, was he better? Did you come harder? Or did you find the most pleasure in making me worry, in being unfaithful? I tried to believe you, Enora, I really did. But when he kept staring at you, and you him, I knew it wasn’t all in my head.

I knew you had done the unforgivable… You had given your body to another. "

He tipped his head back and laughed. The sound was deafening. Birds cawed in the treetops.

"Tell me, does your little human have your heart, too? Or did you save that for me?"

Luella stumbled back. Away from the monster before her. Away from the shadows crawling on the ground.

Nestled behind a tall tree, she saw feet peeking out—and a fearful face peering around the trunk.

Enora.

Pale and trembling, she huddled behind the tree. Her lips moved, but Luella could not hear her small, desperate pleas. Her deep brown hair hung around her shoulders like a silken curtain.

Caliban stepped closer to her hiding spot.

A small whimper tore from Enora’s lips, and she shoved her hand against her mouth to stifle the sound. But it was too late.

The shadows swept forward, crawling swiftly across the ground as they tangled around Enora’s ankles.

She gasped. "Caliban, please. This isn’t you!"

The shadows tugged her across the ground, curling around her body like inky vines. Caliban only laughed.

"This isn’t me?" Caliban lifted his hand, and the shadows forced Enora to stand, shoving against her as she stumbled. "I am the most me I have ever been."

Tears fell in crystalline tracks down Enora’s pale skin.

"This is not the male I fell in love with.

What happened to you? I would never be unfaithful.

You have my heart." Though the shadows held her, Enora seemed unfearful. She stepped closer, and the shadows curled around her arms. Slowly, she placed her hand on Caliban’s chest—right over his heart. "And I have yours."

Caliban’s jaw ticked, and he squeezed his eyes shut. When they reopened, the shadows were less vibrant, replaced by a beautiful, familiar green. "I’m sorry, Enora. I c-can’t control it." His voice had turned soft.

They were both crying now.

"You can… I know you can. Whatever has possessed you, we can figure it out. We can stop it. We’ll find the Prima. She’ll know what to do. How to fix this."

Luella’s brow furrowed. Enora had referred to the Prima as a she ?

Caliban bowed his head; strands of his black hair fell into his eyes.

And when he lifted his head, the shadows were back.

Slowly, he smiled. It was a wicked thing. "I do not need to be fixed."

Caliban lifted both his hands. The shadows shoved Enora back. She stumbled, her heels digging into the ground. Another step. Enora sobbed; her nose was red and brows winged in sorrow.

"P-please. Please ." She held her hands before her to placate him, but the shadows forced them back to her sides.

Enora’s sobs made Luella want to cover her ears.

Water lapped against Enora’s legs as she was pushed back into the water. Further, and further still. Until only her head was visible.