Chapter 24 Stay
STAY
VALE
Weariness sank into Vale’s bones as he scrubbed a hand over his face.
He had been forcibly relieved of his duties, Azgorath and Graves forcing him and Tharen both to rest—not the first time, nor would it be the last.
Alone, Vale flexed his fingers, aching from gripping the wheel. His dragon was restless, the wind so glorious, tempting him to shift, give in, and fly far. But not alone.
With her.
His Vincire, his mate.
Even now, Vale felt the call to her. She was soft inside his chest, where their bond wrapped around his heart, tethered to his soul.
Go to her, his dragon hissed.
Vale pinched the bridge of his nose. Godsdamn it all to the Below.
Stay yourself, Vale hissed in reply.
His dragon had been quiet, thus far. It seemed that the quiet had been shattered. But why?
The air was still. It was evening, the sky still covered by a mass of clouds, shades of deep purple and pink blotting their pure white and turning the ever-present shroud of greyscale emptiness into something fit for only the most majestic of paintings.
The shifting rain and clouds followed them—sometimes pouring, sometimes gone—all tied to Luella.
Gods, he prayed that they would find answers on the Isles. He prayed that Emarelia would know at least something about how Luella could control her magic.
As if the thought manifested it, Vale suddenly felt Luella—the threads, as she called them—wrapping around him, tightening like a vise.
His dragon roared:
Go! Go to her.
Now!
The clouds grew thick and dark, thunder rumbled in the distance, and the very seas roiled, harsh waves lapping against the hull with a sudden intensity, making the ship rock and Vale sway with unsteadiness.
With that strawberry-laced softness, growing sour with fear, leading him onward, his feet slipped over the damp deck as he followed the pull.
The call led him to the door of the captain’s quarters.
Vale threw the door open, rain beginning to fall. He exhaled raggedly, green eyes narrowing as he searched for her.
A soft cloud of steam drifted in the room as rain blurred the sea beyond the curving window.
Pale skin, bare and precious. The soft glitter of diamonds. A delicate gasp, fallen from pink lips like rose quartz.
Warmth enveloped him, grey smoke drifting and warming him to the bones. He hadn’t even known how cold he had been.
Protect.
Take. Touch.
Ours.
"Luella." Vale hissed her name like a serpent.
The soft, unmarred line of her throat worked with a desperate swallow, and her arms wrapped around her bare breasts, legs crossed, body half-turned to preserve her modesty.
But Vale had seen a flash of the space between her thighs, clouded only slightly by steam, the brief glimpse of a pink nipple, her breasts small and begging for his touch.
A soft blush spread over the bridge of her nose, darkening as she turned to him. "V-Vale," she stuttered, the sound broken.
The door fell shut behind him, and the steam grew thicker while the rain pounded outside.
"What’s wrong? Are you hurt? Do you need Tharen? Is it your wings?" The questions were torn from within him.
"No. I’m not… It’s not my wings. I’m not hurt.
Not my body." As she spoke, she grabbed a towel lying in a heap on the floor, bending carefully, with her white hair hanging against her in messy curls, her backside an enticing curve.
Standing, she bundled the towel to her chest, tucking it under her arms.
Bastian called in Vale’s mind, a drowsy plea as if he had been asleep, Vale? Is she okay? Do you have her?
Yes, Vale thought back, knowing that Bastian would tell the others. I have her.
As Luella held the towel, Vale spied the glimmer of the bracelet on her wrist, and he couldn’t stop staring.
Go to her. She needs us, hissed the dragon.
Vale walked closer. "What happened? If it is not your body that is hurt, is it your mind?"
Behind her, the small wooden tub of the bath, bubbling and popping—the source of the steam. She turned to stare at it, more fear lancing down their bond.
"I tried to t-take a b-bath. Alone. And I couldn’t. I cannot—"
Her eyes were red with held-back tears.
A deafening boom of thunder resounded; she didn’t even flinch.
"Luella, darling." Vale walked closer to her, breathing her in as the hot steam clung to her flesh. "You must calm down. For me, please, darling." He let himself be soft with her, let himself give in. For the sake of the storm.
Vale traced over the curve of her arm, brushing the amulet she wore. The three circles of the Binding mark were on her chest, inked over her heart—he would not force his will on her. Never again.
As if she could sense what he thought, she stared up at him, her hands rubbing at her eyes, elbows firm against her chest to keep the towel in place.
He hadn’t realized how close they were, but he found his eyes tracing the upturned shape of her nose, the faded freckles scattered across the bridge—a remnant from her past life.
"Force me," Luella uttered.
Vale stared at the bracelet on her wrist, the blue of her eyes like a collection of rare jewels. "Darling?"
Taste her.
"Force me to calm. I cannot bear bringing another storm upon us all." Her lower lip wobbled as she reached for his hand, so small against him as her fingers delicately gripped him. "Force me. I want you to, Vale. I need you to."
The ship rocked, and hot water splashed over the side of the tub, sizzling as it met the floors.
Backed into a corner, he reached for the way out she offered, angry that he must force her, but desperate to ease her pain.
Vale wanted to make this pleasant for her, grant her a small mercy.
"Luella, you will calm down, and you will feel peace. You will explain what happened, without feeling fear, and then you will go to sleep and rest easily," Vale ordered—adding a gentle, "This demand will last until you awaken."
Instantly, she softened, tears spilling over her lash line as the tension eased. "Thank you," she breathed. "Thank you, Vale."
Possession surged inside him as he breathed her in.
She is ours.
Protect.
The bath stopped bubbling with heat, the storm faded, yet the steam in the room remained, cloaking them in hazy warmth.
His demand had not yet been fulfilled.
She spoke:
"I always bathe with Az, and I hate feeling so weak.
I tried to bathe alone. I cannot depend on him forever," she whispered like a secret.
"It was going well—I thought it was, at least. I do not want to be a burden.
I filled the tub myself. It was cold water, but it would be okay.
I could handle it. As soon as I disrobed"—her lashes fluttered as she glanced away, abashed—"it hit me.
I tried to force myself into the bath, regardless, but as you can see, it did not work.
As soon as I placed my foot inside, the water started to heat.
It burned, but it was so much better than the cold. "
The fear ramming against Vale had turned to a blissful wave of serenity.
Luella licked her lips. "You know the rest." Her explanation was finished, and now she grew drowsy, blinking furiously as if to clear her vision.
Vale skimmed his palms over her shoulders, holding her. "Thank you," he said, feeling the weight of gratitude wrapping around them both—like the steam. He rarely expressed his thanks, but here and now, between them both in this steam-cloaked room, he found it coming easily.
"Why?" Luella took a small step closer to him, her fingers wrapping around his wrist. "Why did you soften your hold on me?"
Vale did not know—he just knew that he could not impose his will upon hers forever. He would not be so cruel. "I would not rob you of your autonomy. Not in that way, darling," he shared.
She nodded sleepily, his demand forcing her body to relax further, sleep calling her.
He wanted her here, resting on the pillow he called his own.
She listed to the side, and Vale wrapped an arm around her, easing her to the bed. Tugging down the sheets, he helped her into it, tucking the plain quilt over her towel-wrapped body. Her white hair splayed on the pillow, and he sat by the edge of the bed, watching her as the ship rocked softly.
"Will you stay?" she hummed, cheek rubbing against the pillow.
"You won’t want me in the morning."
Not opening her eyes, Luella sighed, "I do. I just won’t admit it."
He shook his head, staring down at her. They were similar, in a way. He saw his prideful stubbornness reflected back to him when he watched her.
"Okay, darling. I will stay." Vale lay down by her side, atop the quilt.
She nestled into him, her rosy strawberry scent calming his dragon.
Vale tried not to fall asleep, but it was a losing battle, perhaps just the same as his battle against the temptation of her—one he had lost long ago.