"Infection?" Vale urged.
"Not too concerning. I suspect the fever is more from what she’s been through. A combination of shock and…" Tharen swallowed. "She still needs us. The bond demands we consummate."
Luella flinched, cheek brushing against the furs under her. "I told you, I would rather die."
"We will not let that happen," Az grumbled. "We can keep doing what we have been. Sharing a bed, sharing clothes. Light touches, butnothingmore."
"That won’t cut it forever. It’s a temporary fix." Tharen kept pressing the cloth to her brow, eyes flicking to them as he spoke.
"A balm for a gaping wound in our souls," Graves echoed, strain lacing his words.
Bastian sighed. "A wound which can only be healed by her."
"That’s not even taking her magic into account." Vale clicked his tongue. "She’s volatile right now. We cannot worry abouteasing the bond and her magic, too. One must give, or we all break."
"How?" Bastian asked him. They were talking in circles. Only putting off the discussion that needed to come: what they were going to do from here. "How do you expect us to aid in her magic. We have tried it. It failed." Bastian winced when he heard Luella’s tiny intake of breath. Perhaps he should have phrased it better. "Where do we go from here?"
Vale scrubbed a hand over his face. "Nowhere unless we have her permission."
"You do not," Luella said softly. "Not for that. Not again. And not you, never you." Her fingers curled around the bracelet still in her palm, and Vale’s eyes tracked the soft glimmer of white gold within her grasp, smoke huffing from between his lips. "I would rather lie with a wraith than with you."
Tharen stilled his brushing of the cloth against her brow, and Bastian stared at her and the tiny droplets of sweat clinging to her nape, the way her white hair was slightly wet where it hung against her skin.
"The fever has loosened your tongue," Vale warned. "Mind it, or I will do it for you,PrincessLuella."
The King’s words landed like a blow, exactly as intended.
The truth of her origins hung about the room like smoke, choking them all.
Luella squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, cheeks red. "I know what it’s like now to be intimate with s-someone. After all the lies—every single hurtful one—you would expect me to give myself to you?"
"Yes, I own you—" Vale answered, but Bastian cut him off quickly before he could get himself in trouble.
"Pet, you will always have a choice in whom you give your body to." Bastian paused, trying to figure out how to best express what he wanted to say without frightening her. "But Tharen isnot wrong. Between the strain of our unconsummated bond, your body working to heal your wings, and your power, you may not survive—we may not survive." He knew this would hurt, and he said it with reluctance, "We have already seen what you can do, and if we have a chance at stopping it from happening again…"
"I already said I didn’t mean to, and I-I wish none of it had happened. Bastian, I don’t want to—" She bit her bottom lip. "I’m not ready forthat."
Az stroked his fingers over her ankle, tracing up her calf. "Consummation? Or any of it, angel?"
"Just the, um, first one," she said.
"Then we will not," Bastian asserted. "Not until you are ready, and if you are never ready, then we will figure it out." He was lying, trying to make her feel like she had a choice—he didn’t know if she could survive forever without tying herself to them fully. But godsdammit, they could try.
"But what about Vale?" She looked at the dragon shifter.
Bastian met Vale’s eyes, not hiding the anger within his own. "He will agree, pet." He didn’t elaborate.
"If this is what would make you obey, what you desire, then I will… allow it," Vale said with visible effort.
"Okay," she breathed. "I—okay."
"It’s a plan?" Tharen looked at them all. "We ensure she’s sexually sated to ease her powers… Not fucked, but almost." Muted desire laced his words, mixed with something darker—loathing
From his place next to the wall, Graves spoke up:
"In theory, it’s a nice idea. When I wound her up on Winter Solstice, she froze my glass solid, remember? Why wouldn’t she do it again when she’s aroused?"
7
