Page 93 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

She drew her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them, shrinking back into the pillows as he stared at her.

It was awkward—knowing that he knew where she had been and whom she had been with…

As she shifted, Tharen’s shirt slipped off her shoulder, and Az’s eyes fell on the exposed skin.

"Are you cold?" Az asked. The lone candle that flickered on the vanity in the corner cast shadows on his dusky skin, making his horns seem larger in the dim light. His hair was damp, and water dripped from the ends of the messy brown curls, falling onto his shirt and leaving dark patches.

Before she could answer, the door to her room opened softly, and Bastian stepped inside.

He had dressed—thankfully—in comfortable garments fit for sleep.

Billowy, black silk pants and a matching shirt—it was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, of course, revealing delicate swirls of dark ink on his pale chest. She knew what his bare flesh looked like now.

His red eyes were filled with knowing.

Luella looked away from him.

The vampire stopped by the glass doors of the balcony, a hand resting on the ornate handle. "Do you want me to close it?"

Her chin brushed her knee as she shook her head. "No," she said, "I sleep better when I can feel the wind and smell the rain. It helps keep the nightmares away."

She grimaced at the words forced from her lips. She guessed Vale’s order to speak the truth would not leave her until she awoke in the morning—she didn’t know. Magic was peculiar.

The bed dipped as Az sat beside her. "It pains me to know your dreams are haunted," he said.

She released her grip on her legs and traced over the stitching on the thick comforter. "Haunted by whom? The Tenebrae? Or?—"

She trailed off as she looked up and found Bastian staring at her.

He stood by the vanity, leaning over the flickering flame with his lips pursed, poised to blow it out.

His eyes were half-lidded, and his billowy shirt rose on his waist from his bent position, revealing a hint of his hipbones.

His sensual lips curved into a half-smirk, and then, with a soft puff of cold air, the candle was extinguished, leaving the room cast in only the glow of the stars and the moon, blotted out by the swiftly moving clouds outside the windows.

"Or what?" Az asked. He was careful of his horns as he leaned back on her bed, shifting down until he got comfortable. She was still sitting up, and she peered down at him at her side, grabbing his large hand and playing with his fingers to distract herself from whatever awaited her at dawn.

"Or… or you," Luella revealed, lashes brushing her brow as she looked toward Bastian. The vampire prowled gracefully to her bed.

Bastian walked around the other side and parted the swaths of white encasing her bed. Sitting, he adjusted a few pillows, fingers brushing her side every so often as he pulled down the sheets. She shivered from the innocent touches.

Luella felt the vampire in her mind as he whispered, Disappointed?

I can touch more than innocently if you’d like, but I fear what Tharen would do if we interrupted his sleep.

His words caused a whirlwind inside her—spinning her around and winding her up, then dissolving into carefully curated joviality.

He knew she wasn’t ready for more and didn’t push her.

"You mean me, pet?" Bastian asked aloud. He, too, lay down, and she was the only one of them left sitting up, uncomfortable and out of her element.

Honesty was pulled from within her as she said, "All of you. You all haunt my dreams."

Az tensed. "Even me? "

She hesitated, contemplating. "Yes, even you," she said softly. "But haunting is not always bad. I enjoy being haunted by you."

"Then I’ll haunt you," Az murmured, "always, if that’s what you need."

His hand was warm as she stroked over the lines of his palm. She held him still and placed her palm against his, noting how his hand dwarfed hers entirely.

The demon huffed a laugh, watching how fascinated she was by their difference in size. He let her play for a moment, but then laced their fingers and used the grip to tug her down onto her back, nestled between them both.

"You need sleep, angel," the demon said. "Dawn will arrive soon." As she tried to get comfortable, Az soothed her fidgeting with a hand on her waist, tugging her deeper into the crook of his body.

Bastian shifted closer, his breaths tickling her neck. His nose brushed the pillow she lay on, and it was so intimate to have them both here, under her sheets, trapping her with them. Their scents wrapped around her… She never wanted to fall asleep, never wanted to let this moment go.

The warm amulet was nestled between her breasts, under Tharen’s shirt—the mage’s scent baked into her skin. He was all over her, even when he wasn’t around. Neither of the males in her bed seemed to mind that she was coated in the scent of another.

Luella tugged the sheet up to her chin, blinking up at the moon’s glow cast onto the white canopy.

Sleep evaded her. Even though she would soon have to awaken, her mind didn’t seem to want to let her go.

Her head shifted on the pillow, finding the dim red glow of Bastian’s eyes, open and staring at her.

Her voice was so, so soft as she whispered into the night, "Doesn’t this bother you? Why do you get along so well compared to the others?"

Bastian reached down and grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips.

His fangs brushed against the tip of her finger, and she gasped.

His dark lashes cast shadows onto his pale cheeks as he pressed his nose to her palm and moved lower to the thin skin on her wrist. "We have a common goal.

" His breath ghosted along her skin. She never knew a wrist could be so sensitive. "You," he murmured, looking up at her.

Az’s hand tightened on her waist. "I would never do anything to cause you pain, Lu. They are your Vincire, just as I am. Even though they don’t deserve it, it would hurt you to be away from them."

"Oh," she breathed.

Bastian laid their joined hands on the mattress between them. "Don’t be sad, pet. They’ll come around."

"That’s not what I was?—"

"No lies," the vampire tsked. "You hate to see us apart.

I know you do. I know you care." He moved until his face was a breath away from hers, so close, she could count the flecks of darker red in his irises. She hadn’t noticed it before in the dim light, but the faintest smudge of scarlet was just under his plush bottom lip.

Luella swallowed thickly, staring at his mouth, unable to stop herself:

"Is that b-blood?"

His brows furrowed, swiping a thumb across his lower lip. Flakes of red fell off. "Hm. I thought I had cleaned up…"

"You mean you—you drank before coming to my bed?" she asked, breathless.

Az’s fingers pressed tighter into her waist.

Bastian pulled away from her, staring up at the ceiling, much like she had done earlier. "I do not think you would want me in your bed if I had not sated my hunger. And I certainly don’t think you would have offered up yourself."

" No ," she asserted, tugging her hand away from him and tucking it under her chin, fearful of the blood-hungry monster lying beside her.

"I’ve not hurt you yet, pet, and I’ve had every opportunity to take from you." His voice was tinged with only the barest hints of hurt.

She trusted him but…

Something held her back, made her not reach out for him.

"I will prove myself," Bastian vowed lowly. "Now listen to your demon and get some sleep. Or"—his eyes fell to hers—"do you need some help to quiet your mind?"

Luella shook her head. She didn’t want him in her head; didn’t want him to mellow her thoughts and force her to sleep with his Mind magic.

"Leave her alone," Az grumbled. "She doesn’t need to be teased right now. She needs to sleep. So be quiet."

Bastian blew out a breath. "Sleep. We’ll wake you when it is time."

"Okay," she whispered.

And she didn’t speak again.

Lying on her side, the time passed, each beat of her heart was sand drifting through an hourglass.

Az’s breaths evened out first, steady behind her, each one forcing his chest closer to her back.

Bastian was the next to fall asleep. A strand of his silky black hair rested against his cheek as he lay half on his side, one arm thrown over his head, the other lying between them, palm-up—as if waiting for her.

Her eyes grew heavy, but sleep danced away from her as she traced the shadows in the room.

Her ears strained in the dim of night—no rain, but distantly, thunder rumbled.

Her eyes found the glass doors of the balcony, obscured slightly by her canopy and the bodies around her.

Thick, dark clouds permeated the sky, blotting out the moon.

She found herself eagerly awaiting the spare moments when it was visible—clouds drifting, moving through the sky, revealing hints of its spectacular glow.

And sometime between chasing the shadows of the moon and counting Bastian and Az’s breaths, Luella found herself pulled into sleep.

But not before her tired, burning eyes fell from the sky and saw a black raven perched on the stone railing, watching.

Maybe it was a dream. Maybe she had already fallen into sleep, and her mind conjured up the image of her watcher. Or maybe it was real, and Graves felt so unworthy that he condemned himself to merely watch.