"I will not stop this." Luella’s voice was quiet. "Even if I could, I do not think I would want to, Vale. You have earned this."
The wind took her words and broke them into a thousand pieces, scattering them around the watery floors.
"I may have earned this, but listen to me, Luella, do you think they have?" He gestured over his shoulder, to nothing andno one, except discarded wine bottles and overturned chairs. A ghost town, holding nothing but memories of lust and sin.
She was nodding before she could think it through, drowning in memories of laughter and taunts as she was dragged to the steps of the palace, thrown before the King. They deserved it all—some even more than the dragon King before her. The hands that had touched her, the lips that had spoken vile propositions and hurled wicked insults.
"Very well. But what about the innocents? Will you blame the actions of one for many? Think of the gentle souls, like yours." Vale’s fingers released their death grip on her face, turning achingly gentle. A pretty lie, crafted to lure her in and make her pliant and willing. But the storm raged on, not willing to be tricked. "Do you think they deserve to die?"
And…
He had her.
He knew it, too.
Luella’s shoulders dropped with a quiet sigh, the end turning strangled with a barely restrained sob.
"No," she whispered brokenly.
"I thought so." With one hand, Vale tugged free his golden mask and threw it over his shoulder; it splashed into the growing pool of water, sinking to lie right next to hers. Their masks were gone, and they were both exposed now. Onyx scales glistened on his cheekbones, rain sluicing down them, making them sparkle. He leaned forward and pressed his lips, which she knew tasted of embers and ash, to her brow. "No matter how many years you have to craft the skill of your tongue, know that it will never be a match for mine. I will always win."
His tone was withdrawn. She assumed there was no victory in winning against an already beaten-down opponent.
The vulnerably victorious pieces of her soul cracked. Just a bit.
As did the walls around them.
The wind beat against the structure of the castle, and even the hewn stone was no match against her storm.
Cracks splintered out. The sound of the fractures echoed around them, multiplied by the rippling water filling up the room.
Vale jolted, pressing her closer against him to keep her safe as smoke filled the air around him. She heard masculine calls, the others jumping into action.
Everything stilled, anticipating a crushing end.
Would it hurt? Would she feel her bones turn to dust and her skin to mush as stone fell upon them?
The cracks were loud, mingling with the storm as the air ripped around them and the rain soaked them all.
"Get her out of here," Bastian snapped. She felt cold hands on her shoulders, stark against the King’s heat. It was like a balm on her aching flesh. "Now, Vale. The castle will crumble at any moment."
Vale found her eyes. "If I take her, the storm will follow where she goes."
It was Tharen who spoke of the niggling thoughts brewing in her mind, as if he heard her. And perhaps he had. She was just aware enough to feel invisible fingers combing through her thoughts, plucking and pulling. Was Bastian sending her innermost secrets and musings to the others?
"Maybe not." The Prima’s tone was hard as ice. "She wants this castle to crumble down and all of us to fall with it. If we take her away, the castle may fall, but we won’t."
As Tharen spoke, Bastian tugged on her upper arms, Vale relenting and standing with her in his clutches. He kept her steady when she wobbled from the wind, a strong, unyielding pillar to cling to.
He was the eye of the storm, calm. But she was the hurricane itself, spinning wild around him.
Bastian’s red eyes flashed. "It’s true. She wants this place turned to dust, whether we are inside it or not."
She stared at a button on the King’s coat. "Get out of my head before I make you." The words were pulled from somewhere deep and treacherous inside her soul.
The ghostly hands retreated, her thoughts slipping through his fingers like sand.
Good.
