Page 96 of A Dance of Water (Moon Song #2)

FRAYING ENDURANCE (DRINK)

LUELLA

T he wintry forest enveloped them, and Luella couldn’t help her awe at the beauty.

After hours and hours of walking, her body was one large ache. Her feet hurt, her calves burned, her hands shook. She panted from exertion, tasting crisp wetness with every ragged breath.

The whole thing felt surreal.

Taken from her home—no, from Solis . That place had never been her home.

Bound and dragged to Serpentis… she never would have imagined she would be forced to take that path again.

She had retraced the steps through the city square, down the ornate roads.

They had passed by a scant few villages hours ago, when most were still asleep, save for farmers, bent over in fields, heads perking up as their odd procession passed.

But that had been some time ago.

The path they now ventured on was desolate. She had seen no souls…

Except for the five males around her.

Up ahead, Vale trotted along, a lead attached between his and Graves’s steed—the raven shifter flew above, the occasional flash of black feathers as he scouted overhead.

The land was relatively flat, but in the trees, anything could hide. The darkness didn’t help. Thunder steadily shook throughout the cloud-covered sky, beating in time with her footfalls, with her heartbeat. With each loud rumble, she tried to ignore the accusatory eyes that fell upon her.

Twigs and brittle leaves crunched underfoot.

Luella’s foot caught on a fallen branch, hidden in the shadows. She stumbled forward, too tired to right herself. Az steadied her, his touch strong, his body radiating warmth. She was so cold.

"Lu, are you okay?" Az mumbled, soothing a hand over her waist.

The horses ahead slowed, but did not stop.

She gripped his shirt, sighing against him—a tiny puff of breath, and the treetops shook with wind. "No." Her voice cracked. Her mouth was dry.

A horse chuffed at her side, blowing her frizzed hair. Bastian tugged on the reins as he stopped alongside them.

She found his eyes, her hands still gripping Az’s shirt as if it were the only thing keeping her sane. Maybe it was.

"There is no time to stop." Bastian swallowed as he peered down at her. "We’ll arrive at the Temples before dawn." And with that, he spurred his horse onward, his silky black hair framing his pale cheekbones as he inclined his head for them to follow.

Az started walking, leading her with a gentle touch on her lower back. "Almost there, Lu. Hang on for me—just a little longer. Can you do that?"

Her steps were disjointed, and her stomach was empty.

She had not been offered food yet. She tipped her head back, watching the swiftly moving storm clouds that peeked through the thick cover of treetops, and she wondered if they were waiting until they stopped for the night.

Evening was quickly approaching. All she wanted was to sleep.

The little sleep she had gotten after her pleasure lessons did nothing to energize her. Her lids were heavy.

"Lu?" Az prodded.

She realized he was waiting for a response.

Luella wet her lips. "I don’t have a choice." Her eyes drifted to the others.

Damp strands of golden hair stuck to Vale’s temples as he turned his head, green eyes devouring her in the dim forest light .

Her steps faltered.

This whole journey was all so she could lie with him. And every time she looked toward the King, she was reminded. She couldn’t run. Couldn’t hide.

Could only trudge forward.

She grew quiet, and through the clouds, the sun dipped. The shadows yawned. And she trembled, envisioning spindly hands reaching for her.

Wraiths were only in the Silva Noctis. She was safe here.

But the shadows grew larger, and in her memory, strangled yells and masculine pleas for her help echoed through her mind.

She gripped the amulet on her chest with a weak hand.

Only a dream.

The sun dipped so low that her eyes struggled to make out the path in front of her, forcing her to stumble more often than not. Az kept a hand on her back, never letting her go.

When the ache in her stomach and the dryness of her mouth could no longer be ignored, she projected her voice as best as she was able:

"A-are—" Her voice cut off in a croak. She swallowed with trouble and started again. "Are we going to stop for the night?"

Az inhaled sharply but did not speak.

Hooves thudded against the damp earth, and Tharen strode alongside her, peering down from atop his large, muscled steed. The mage did not wear one hint of exhaustion on his features. "Ready to give up, Princess?"

She shook her head. "I cannot see… It’s dark. I’m hungry. Will we not stop for rest until dawn?"

The mage smirked, expression filled with scorn. He was silent for a moment, his head cocked to the side, a white braid falling over his strong shoulder. He opened his mouth, and she tensed, afraid of whatever he was getting ready to say; his eyes were filled with malice.

"No rest for you." Tharen leaned down over his steed. "And no food. No water."

At the mere mention of food, her stomach grumbled. When was the last time she had eaten? She remembered meager amounts of finger food at the Solstice celebration… a sip of sweet ne ctar.

"What do you mean?" Luella asked.

The mage was leaning so far over the saddle, she worried he’d tip out of it. But his grip was strong on the reins, his thighs clenched, keeping him firmly rooted to the spot. Az grumbled at her side, and she shrank back into the warmth of the demon’s large body.

A large hand reached out, and Tharen’s fingers brushed the space she was just in, grazing wisps of her frizzed white hair.

"Part of a test for your worthiness," Tharen said. At the look on her face, his smirk grew wider. "What? You think just anyone can fuck the King, Princess? You’re wrong."

His words were crude. Her frozen cheeks warmed slightly.

One of the threads inside her sang. A horse chuffed as Bastian caught up to them. The vampire tugged on his reins, forcing his horse to trot ahead. His silken black hair was windswept, and water clung to the ends, glistening on his pale skin as it fell from the strands.

He was so… pretty.

His reddened eyes lit up as he met her gaze, a secretive smile on his plush lips.

Oh.

She felt Bastian inside her mind as he teased, Yes. Oh.

Luella looked away from him.

"Stop goading her, Tharen. She’s being forced to endure enough without you making it worse." Bastian didn’t look away from her as he spoke.

"Is Tharen… lying to me, Bastian?" Luella spoke softly, occasionally glancing at the dim ground to make sure she didn’t trip; though, she doubted she would with Az’s harsh grip on her. He’d catch her if she fell.

"You know I’ll always toy with you," Tharen taunted. "But?—"

" But ," Bastian interjected, "this is the truth. The Chosen is not permitted food nor water for the journey."

Her mouth fell open, and Bastian’s gaze dipped to watch as she wet her chapped lips.

"B-but what about sleep? Or at the very least, stopping for a while? You cannot expect me to make this journey in the pitch of night…"

A soft caw permeated the air, and she looked up, seeing nothing but shadows and the faint impression of leaves in the treetops swaying, limbs reaching out like spindly arms high above. No trace of her watcher, but Graves was near. She felt the way the thread between them sang.

Bastian shook his head. "No sleep. We will arrive at the Temples before dawn, and you will be allowed sustenance and rest then, before…" His jaw ticked, and he looked away. "Keep up, pet. The King is anxious for our arrival."

The vampire snapped his reins lightly, urging his horse onward, toward Vale.

Luella could barely look at the dragon shifter, nerves consuming her.

Tharen shifted on the saddle, leather creaking, as he looked down at her in the dimming light. "You heard him, lamb. Just think, every step gets you closer to a nice bed." Innuendo dripped from his words.

The Prima held back on the reins, allowing her and Az to continue their trek while he took up the rear.

She felt him behind her, listening, watching—eyes scouring.

Knowing she could not eat or drink, she was intensely aware of her hunger and thirst. Her tongue was like a puff of cotton in her mouth.

"I will not let you face this alone, my angel." Az laced their fingers together, holding her steady in the shadows of the forest. "We’ll do it together."

She nodded, trying to forget the way her body was reminding her of her fragility.

They walked. And walked.

The sun disappeared entirely.

Night was upon them.

And with it, the loud stillness of nature.

Throughout it all, Az murmured soft words of encouragement to her. It reminded her so much of their time in the dungeons. Finding solace in fear.

But this time, she feared the situation she found herself in was too grave.

Despite the soft praise from her demon, her endurance frayed.

As the night wore on, they had tightened their circle around her.

The King was just up ahead—the flank of his steed so close, she could reach out and brush his coat with her weak fingertips.

Bastian and Tharen trotted behind, the chuffs of the horses rustling her hair from their proximity.

And at her side, Az kept a firm grip on her.

Graves was nowhere to be seen. His horse was led by Vale, and the empty saddle sparked curious unease within her.

They had been alone thus far. Had run into no one.

Her ears were hypersensitive in the dark. The rumble of thunder toyed with her senses, and the rustle of wind made her shiver, every gust like monstrous breaths.

She swore— swore —she heard the faintest yells in the distance. But every time the question lingered on the tip of her tongue, Bastian would speak in her mind, distracting her.

Just your imagination, pet, he would say.

Don’t tell me you read so much you cannot tell fact from fiction, he said another time.

And each time, she allowed herself to believe his placating croons.

The moon hid behind the clouds. She was jealous of it—being able to tuck itself away.

The forest had opened up as they walked, trees growing scarcer and farther in between until eventually, the land was once more made up of rolling hills and large rocks.

A yell pierced the night. Echoed by a loud crack of thunder.

"W-what was that?" Luella’s voice trembled.

"Keep moving," Bastian said from right behind her.

She had no choice but to carry on, but her mouth was dry, and her temples pounded.

A whimper fell from her lips. Stumbling, the tip of her boot caught over a rock, and she couldn’t stop herself from tripping forward.

With barely a sigh, she crumpled to the ground. Az’s strong hands kept her steady as he held her up. "Lu, come on, angel. Stand up. Please."

But she couldn’t. Her legs were like a newborn fawn’s trembling limbs.

Half-crouched over her, Az placed a hand on her cheek, his other arm wrapped tightly around her waist to keep her from falling fully onto the ground.

Frigid air tickled her skin. She shivered, worsening the pounding in her head.

"I just n-need to rest." Barely lucid, she didn’t realize her words were a declaration of defeat. She rested her cheek against Az’s chest, eyes fluttering shut. "Only for a bit…" she whispered.

"Vale," Az growled, chest rumbling under her. There was a pause, and she didn’t lift her head, but she imagined the King staring at her weak self. "Please," her demon begged for her.

She tipped her face up, lashes tickling her cheeks as her eyes fluttered. If only it would rain.

But because she yearned for it, the water seemed to tease her, dancing just out of reach.

Her lips parted, and the damp air that kissed her tongue did nothing to assuage the dry ache of thirst in her mouth.

Boots crunched over pebbles and splashed in puddles of standing water. Though it was night, a shadow still seemed to be cast onto the ground—he was so powerful that even the night did not abide by the rules of the elements.

"Princess Luella, look at me."

The Binding mark fizzled softly on her chest, and her head was forced up, her half-lidded eyes meeting Vale’s green gaze.

"You’re not on your horse," she said, dazed.

He did not respond, merely took her with firm hands gripping her elbows as he tugged her to stand. She looked to Az, who nodded, as Vale led her to his steed. The horse nickered lowly, and Vale opened his saddlebag. From within, Vale pulled out a leather waterskin. She swallowed, her tongue thick.

"We must be quick," said Vale. And before she could blink, she found herself tucked between him and his steed. The King was before her, shielding her body with his frame, one hand resting on the saddle behind her as he caged her in.

"What are you d-doing?" she stammered.

With one hand, he uncapped the waterskin. He paused, head tilting to the side as if in deep thought. "You need to drink," he commanded.

The horse’s fur coat prickled on the backs of her arms, and Vale’s heat enveloped her.

He was giving her water? What had changed?

Vale bent down, hiding her fully in the shadow of his large body. He cupped a hand and tipped the waterskin, pouring a small amount of clear liquid into his palm. She stared, transfixed, at the water.

Slowly, holding Luella’s gaze, Vale raised his cupped hand to her lips, a few droplets dribbling from between his fingers.

His cupped hand brushed against her chin. "Drink," he urged, voice low and heavy with possessiveness.

Her thirst outweighed her pride, as scant as it was, and she lowered her head to his raised hand, lips parted as she drank from his palm. The liquid was warmed by his body temperature, and it soothed her tongue and slipped down her parched throat. She moaned at the feel.

It tasted faintly of him—burning embers and rich cedar.

The water was all gone, and as if without her permission, her tongue peeked out, lapping up every last droplet that clung to his skin.

Vale groaned. His fingers curled in the air before he pulled his hand away. "That’s enough, darling. No more." A low hiss coated his words, as if his dragon lurked right under the surface of his skin.

She shook her head, unable to articulate what had just come over her. "I?—"

Thank you lingered on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed it down just in time. She would not thank him.

Smoke curled from his nostrils, filling the narrow space between them.

His throat worked as he stared down at her.

"Go back to your demon. You will not drink again until we arrive at the Temples.

" Disappointment radiated from him. Or was it something different—something more —that sparked behind his green eyes?