Chapter 20 To Be Free
TO BE FREE
LUELLA
The first thing she felt above deck was air. The first thing she saw was white. The first thing she smelled was salt.
And the first thing she felt…
Fear.
Water surrounded them, blue stretching on as far as her eye could see.
Her limbs started to shake.
And the thing within her stirred restlessly.
The air grew more furious, wind whipping her damp locks around her face, her billowing clothes rippling with the gusts. The wind caught in her wings, and for the briefest of moments, it felt like she would be lifted off the ground.
Az’s hand steadied her. "I’ve got you."
She nodded, unable to speak, unable to think, as he led her carefully across the wooden deck of the ship.
Their gazes pressed on her like physical weights. She felt the threads inside her perk up in interest as she walked nearer to the four other males. The ship pitched across the waves, and her legs wobbled unsteadily. She watched her feet, so she would not stare out at the vast sea.
Stairs led up to where they were, Vale at the wheel, with the others gathered around, looking down upon her; the distance seemed so insurmountable.
Az stayed behind her as she ventured up the steps, a hand on her waist to keep her from tipping backward.
And then, she could hide no more.
From this height, the ocean stretched on, its waves churning beneath glints of brief sunlight that filtered down upon them through flashes of swiftly moving clouds, making the surface sparkle enticingly. She would not be fooled—she knew the sea was the deadliest of them all.
Vale was at the wheel, hands sure as he gripped it. Tharen stood nearby, wafts of air curling from his raised hands in lazy tendrils, forcing the sails to billow out.
"You’re here," crooned a sultry voice. She jolted, turning to find Bastian sitting on the ground. His back rested against a wooden pole as he sifted through stacks of clothes.
"So are you," she replied meekly, knowing the quiver in her voice was because of the eyes piercing her flesh.
"Barely," the vampire said, strained, his eyes flashing a dull red.
Luella took a breath. "You said you wanted to see me. No more secrets," she repeated the words Vale had told her before her bath.
Vale’s jaw clenched. "Sit down."
Her eyes narrowed. She was not a dog—nor wolf.
Speaking of wolves, she spotted the trio of the mage’s wolf pack curled under a spot of shade, underneath a stack of crates. Their fur was pure white; though, she spotted a flash of black among them.
"Ven?" Luella questioned, taking a few wobbly steps toward the sleeping pack of animals.
"Leave them be. They wouldn’t like to be awoken by a little lamb." Tharen’s tone was clipped, his words forced through clenched teeth. His Aer magic sputtered momentarily as a large gust of wind made her hair rustle around her, whipping toward him.
"They haven’t hurt Ven, have they?" she ventured, shivering.
In a flash of graceful darkness, Graves appeared, as she was accustomed to him doing—he fell from midair in a swish of ropes as his boots landed on the wooden deck.
No raven feathers fell around him. She gazed upward, finding a small platform set around one of the wooden poles that stretched toward the cloud-filled sky.
He wore his cloak, but no cowl, and his deep blue eyes fell to her wings. He swallowed and turned away from her dismissively.
"No," said Vale. He, too, didn’t look at her. But she caught the thin tendrils of dark smoke that wafted from his pinched lips. The rings on his fingers caught the light, and it made her skim her fingers over the chain of her stolen bracelet.
"They get along well," Tharen bit out. "The wolves, protecting the helpless kitten."
"Who would have thought?" Bastian huffed a laugh, glancing up from the clothes before him. His nostrils flared, and she felt a thick rush of desire pressing in on her from five sides.
Their conversation momentarily distracted her from the ocean, but a thick wave beat against the side of the ship. Her breath caught.
"Sit down, angel. Don’t look." Az led her closer to Bastian, helping her sit. She knelt carefully on the wooden deck, shifting to get comfortable. The action made her acutely aware of the fact that she was not wearing undergarments.
Bastian groaned, head thumping on the post behind him. "You really thought it wise to place her so close to me?"
Az settled between her and Bastian—a barrier. "We need to make sure you have enough control to be around her. What better way than when we’re all here to stop you if needed?"
"Control is not the problem," Bastian muttered darkly.
Luella swallowed, not able to speak aloud; so she thought it, hoping he’d hear. Did you feed?
A piece of fabric tore in Bastian’s hands. He held her eyes as he said, "Your demon has been helping me. I am not to feed from you again, so I’ve been told."
"That’s not fair," she blurted, cheeks heating when they all turned to her.
The magic in the Prima’s palms flickered, then extinguished entirely; though, the wind roared on.
"Tell us then, lamb," Tharen drawled, "why is it not fair that he can’t sink his fangs in your neck? Because I don’t think it’s fair that you come up here in front of us, smelling like you’ve just been fucked. "
Her mouth fell open. Oh. That explained the tension.
"I-I—"
Bastian’s voice was a low hiss, almost to himself. "I am not the rabid beast you portray me as."
Vale spoke. "You are not rabid, Bastian. However, we must be cautious. You will not touch her unless someone is there to stop you if you lose control."
Tharen shook his head, a white braid hitting his severe jawline. "If he snaps when you two are alone, what would you expect us to do? Bring you back from the dead?" Tharen seethed. He took a step closer to her, and she shrank back into Az’s side.
This was the Tharen she knew—mean and angry, and no hint of underlying vulnerability.
"Why are you like this?" Luella asked of him.
"Like what?" Tharen snapped.
"Cruel."
His icy eyes grew dark.
And she was so tired of him. The thing inside her—her magic—swirled in a tempest, locked behind her ribs. She was so tempted to let it free. But the sea was calm, and the ship sailed onward. She wouldn’t ruin it all again with her chaos.
Though, just one thing slipped free.
A whisper of air, curling from her fingertips, rising to meet him. She felt it, but none of them saw it. Not until that tendril of air grew and grew, turning to harsh gusts that made them all stumble.
She felt as the air wrapped around the mage’s wrists, too perfect to be normal.
For just one moment, she felt pleased, and a tiny smile fell upon her lips, before the air dissolved into nothingness. All without her permission.
"It’s true," Graves proclaimed from his spot leaning against a pole. The ropes were wrapped around his fists.
"What is?" she inquired.
"Pleasure made you call in your storm," Vale said simply.
"Then we’ll just have to make sure she stays pleasured," Tharen interjected.
Luella spluttered, picking at a loose thread in her billowy breeches. "W-why is that any of your concern?"
It was Graves who answered her. "If you aren’t kept calm, then your storms could return and we could die before we reach our destination." He didn’t sound very saddened by that prospect, however.
She knew they weren’t wrong, but, once again, intimacy was the topic of conversation for them all. She wasn’t used to this.
Luella found her eyes drifting to the vampire on the other side of Az. "How do you feel about this?"
"If it is what you want, pet." Bastian’s eyelids fell shut, pained. "Though, I am afraid it is what must happen. I’m sorry if you feel forced into this."
Bastian’s answer made her heart clench. "Az?" she whispered.
"If you don’t want this, say the word, and I’ll make sure you get whatever it is you need or want," her demon replied.
It was what she had been searching for—someone on her side. Even though she knew they were all right. Even though she knew she would… give in.
She swallowed.
"Easy words fallen from the lips of one who has had her," Graves rasped.
"No one has had me," Luella interjected quietly.
But she caught Tharen’s eyes, and something within their icy depths made her look away.
"If no one has had you, why do you smell so sweet?" Graves ran a hand over his jaw, and she couldn’t help but notice how weary he appeared.
"Leave her alone," Az snapped roughly.
"You can all—" She broke off when they all looked to her, shoulders curving inward, wings fluttering. "You can smell… t-that?"
Footsteps thumped across the deck, and a shadow was cast upon the wood as Graves crouched before her, an ungloved hand reaching for her face, tipping her chin up to meet his eyes.
"More than scent it," the raven shifter revealed. She couldn’t stand being trapped by his gaze, so she looked to the swirling amulet at his chest, so similar to the one she wore for her dreams; though, her dreams hadn’t been very… prophetic as of late. "We felt it."
"Like how I feel all of you?" she hedged.
Graves’s dark brow arched in question.
"What do you feel?" Vale demanded.
"I feel everything, as I’ve already told you. Right now, I feel how hungry Bastian is; I feel Az’s sweetness; I feel"—she looked up from under her lashes at Graves—"how terrified you are."
Graves’s eyes widened, and he pulled away from her in a swift movement.
The steady rocking of the ship was filled with a long stretch of quiet. Luella wrapped her arms around her knees, folding them closely to her chest as she studied the whirls in the wood surrounding them, feeling a tightening in her chest with every gust of air.
Silently, a cheesecloth was passed from Bastian to Az, and her demon pressed it into her palms, unfolding it and lifting a wedge of hardened, aged cheese from within. No meats. The pad of his finger brushed her lower lip as he held it to her mouth.