Page 87 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

She felt the pulse of his fangs, a twin throb between his thighs—but this was more primal, urgent, where the one she felt was vulnerable and unsure.

Her fingers tightened on her breast, and the air rippled like the sheet between them.

Luella tilted to the side, tilted forward, feeling the hardness of the stool under her give way to the warmth of a hard body?—

She gasped as she tumbled onto Tharen. He caught her with a firm touch. Her pale hands gripped the folds of his shirt. She couldn’t look up and meet his eyes. Her thighs bracketed his, and she felt a hardness under her.

Her cheeks prickled with heat.

She had heard enough gossip from the kitchen maids in Solis to know the hardness under her was a product of his desire.

Tharen’s scent wrapped around her. He tipped her chin up. Unreadable, icy eyes bore into hers. "That’s enough for tonight." He was speaking to Bastian but looking at her. A thumb rubbed under her eyes. "She’s tired."

Tharen stood, lifting her with him. She hooked a leg around his waist to keep from slipping, wrapping her arms around his neck as he held her close. His braids tickled her cheek as she turned her head into the crook of his neck .

"She’ll be sleeping in my bed tonight." Tharen’s voice rumbled through her like a snowstorm.

What—?

Tharen started for the door with her in his arms. As he turned, she saw Bastian—flashing red eyes, shirt askew with the top buttons undone, wrinkles in the silk.

Her eyes dipped lower, tracing over his trim waist and…

His trousers were?—

She hadn’t realized her mouth had fallen open until Tharen tapped under her jaw. "Close your mouth, lamb, unless you plan on putting it to use."

"Oh," she squeaked, snapping her mouth shut.

Her gaze kept dragging back to Bastian, no matter how much she willed herself to look elsewhere. The fabric strained over the rigid proof of his arousal, shamelessly displayed. And he made no attempt to conceal himself.

The vampire stalked forward, tipping her head up with a finger under her chin. "I do not mind if you wish to look, pet, but don’t be cruel and toy with me if you don’t plan on offering yourself."

He searched her eyes, and her legs tightened on Tharen’s waist.

She was growing increasingly overwhelmed. Wanted nothing more than a moment alone.

Whatever Bastian found on her face—in her mind—made him give a soft nod. "Very well. I can be patient."

But do not mistake my patience for disinterest, I will thoroughly ruin you when you let me in, he whispered in her mind.

His sensual lips tipped into a smirk that promised midnight touches and silken trysts. "Rest well, pet. Tomorrow, the real lessons begin. Wear something pretty for me, won’t you?"

"But the c-curtain," she stammered.

Tharen huffed, fingers digging into the flesh of her hips. "No curtain can keep us from you."

"Imagination is a… powerful thing," Bastian crooned.

With those lingering words, Tharen made for the door, uncaring that she was wrapped around his frame indecently. He kept her anchored with strong hands, carrying her with ease .

"Take her back to her room first," Bastian called. "The beast needs to be tamed."

Az. She was drowning in her sudden need for him.

Tharen released a growl of frustration. "Why should I?"

Bastian hummed. "I’ll let you figure out the answer to that."

A pause.

Luella peeked up, looking at Tharen, eyes tracing the severe lines of his face, the way his lashes cast fleeting shadows on the hollows beneath his eyes.

He gritted his jaw and peered down at her, catching her staring.

His face was utterly unreadable to her—not for the first time this evening.

She wondered of his thoughts… Wondered if the way his eyes softened as he looked down at her was a product of her imagination or real.

He was silent for a few breaths, until finally, he spat, "Fine. But I’m taking her to my bed after."

Bastian interjected, but Tharen spoke over him:

"Don’t fucking start. If you were forced to watch what I just did, damned to silence, you’d want her in your bed, too."

"That’s fair, I suppose." Bastian cupped her cheek, forcing her to look at him. "If you need me—if, at any point, he becomes too much—you need only call." He released her, eyes shifting to Tharen. "And if you lay one finger on her, I’ll drain you until you’re no more than a hollow shell."

"You can try," said the mage. Fear made her weak, and she started slipping. Tharen’s fingers tightened around her waist, lingering possessively as if he couldn’t stand the thought of her falling.

"Besides"—he moved for the door, brushing past Bastian as he pushed it open—"I don’t even need to touch her. "

In a mocking farewell, Tharen lifted a hand, swirls of air dancing along his fingertips. The tendrils skimmed over her back like soft, teasing fingertips, sending a shiver down her spine.

The warmth of the water felt faint compared to the heat sizzling in Luella’s veins .

No longer blindfolded, the sight of the dimly lit bathing chambers made her heart feel like it may crawl out of her throat.

Water licked against her skin. She burned, heat spreading from the inside out, as if her veins were molten.

As she hugged her knees to her chest, her arms wrapped tightly around them to grant herself some sense of comfort, her half-lidded eyes traced the ripples on the dark surface of the water.

Murky hands shimmered just out of reach, but she blinked, and the vision fizzled away just as warm water flowed down her back.

Luella sighed at the feel. "That’s nice."

Behind her, Az grumbled. His legs were outstretched, bracketing her body as she sat nestled between his thighs. She still wore her simple white gown; though, the demon had removed his shirt, leaving his chest bare, tanned skin dotted with water.

Tharen was waiting. They had to hurry. But all she wanted was to stay here, with her protector.

Az’s fingers massaged her scalp. Bubbles popped around them, some clinging to her legs.

The soap had been washed away from her hair, but Az still cupped water in his hands, bringing it up to flow down her crown.

He seemed content to let her wet strands pool in his hands, running his fingers through it, transfixed.

"You don’t have to go with him, angel," Az murmured.

She rested her cheek on her knees as she stared at the water. She knew she would not be able to sit here if it were not for Az. He grounded her.

"What other choice do I have?" she whispered, knowing every word was being heard by Tharen, where his footsteps shuffled outside the closed door of the bathing chambers. She imagined him pacing along the length of her room, his heavy boots kicking up the corners of soft rugs. "I don’t think he’ll h-hurt me. He’s had every opportunity to but… "

"He can hurt you with more than just touch," Az said.

She swallowed, thinking of Tharen’s games, the red circle of her unfilled bargain on her chest. Thinking of how he caught her in Bastian’s room, how his hands had held her steady.

"I know."

Thunder rumbled outside, but there was no rain.

Sometime in the quiet heat of her lessons with Bastian, the soft drizzle had abated, as if staying locked inside her instead of being able to be let free in the elements.

She felt her power thrumming under her skin, beating in time with the near-constant throb of awareness between her thighs.

Az gently gathered the ends of her hair and squeezed. Water trickled down her back. "How—" He cleared his throat, and from that one word, she heard how much this pained him. "How was it?"

Luella squeezed her eyes shut, seeing nothing but flashes of the white curtain, Bastian’s watching silhouette, and how her hand had felt as she cupped her breasts. "He did not t-touch me." She bit her lip hard to stop the shakiness in her voice. "And nothing was forced upon me."

"That’s a lie."

She flinched from the heat in Az’s tone, and his hands gentled her.

"You’ve been forced into this from the start. If you believe you have a choice, then they’ve done a better job of breaking you than I thought. I care for you, Lu. I love you. I hate to just sit here and watch what you’ve become."

He swiped a finger over her bottom lip, his touch achingly gentle. "You know," he murmured, almost to himself, "I heard more laughter from you in the dungeons than I have here. I feel your pain like it’s my own. And gods help me, I want them to beg for hurting you. I want them to regret it…"

Why did she feel the need to defend them? Had she been that influenced?

But Tharen’s usual animosity had softened when he held her—his hands had been protective. Bastian’s eyes had been filled with such angst, as if he hated having to instruct her on how to please another. She didn’t think they were as eager for this as Az assumed.

"Az—"

He rested his head carefully on her shoulder, and she caught the curves of his horns in her peripheral vision; he was always so careful to keep her safe from him.

She turned her head, water dripping from her fingertips as she cupped his cheek.

She pressed a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth. His skin tasted faintly of soap .

"I can’t keep you from this, angel," he whispered against her. "I can’t say much, but I’ll always—always keep you safe. I vowed to you."

She breathed him in, momentarily forgetting the water and the terror it held. "I didn’t… do anything that I did not wish to. I do not want to be with Vale"— liar , her mind whispered—"but I have n-no choice." Her breath caught. "At least I’m alive, and you’re alive with me."

She was trying to comfort him, but she realized the truth to her words—save the one glaring lie. A part of her was greatly interested in the idea of being with Vale. He intrigued her. Maybe it was a manifestation of their bond, but she found herself entranced by them all. Her Vincire.

Her lesson with Bastian had been nonconsensual, forced. But at least he had made it safe for her.

She would not lie and tell herself that, at any time, she could choose differently. She was on a track carved in the stars, and nothing could get her out of it, invisible hands pushing her toward an inevitable fate.

A loud rap on the door made her jolt, water sloshing around them both as Az tightened his hands on her.

Tharen’s voice carried through the door: "Very heartwarming, but if I’m ever going to get some fucking sleep, I’d appreciate it if you’d hurry up."

"C-coming," she called.

Tharen’s boots thumped on the ground right outside the door. "Doubtful."

Growling, Az’s amber eyes held hers as he kissed her softly. "I love you. Always."

"Always."

Luella stood with Az’s help, water dripping from her drenched gown as they stepped out of the bathing pool. The floors were cool under her bare feet, and he wrapped a towel around her, concealing the thinness of her gown as it clung to her curves.

And her protector surrendered her to the one who held her body—and her pleasure—in the palm of his hand.