Chapter 34 Something Stolen, Given
SOMETHING STOLEN, GIVEN
LUELLA
When Luella awoke, she was nude.
A pleasant sigh fell from her lips as she stretched, her toes pointing under sea-scented sheets. The action made her thighs rub together, and she felt tingles shoot up from her core all the way out to the very tips of her curled toes.
Luella lazily blinked open her eyes.
The first thing she saw was white and blue.
Shifting shadows on the walls took the shape of ripples. The tranquil sound of lapping water and crashing waves made her fight against sleep; it was so peaceful.
She turned her head on the pillow, cheek brushing the softness, only to see the curtains billowing inward from the breeze, harsh gusts that brought in the smell of salted air, filling the room with its undeniable presence.
Her hand fell to the plush bedding by her side, finding it cool and empty—she was alone.
Where had Az gone? Had he left her for long?
Something about that made her heart clench. Especially after what they had… done together.
She could barely think of it without blushing. His mouth had touched her in places she had no idea were even possible, and with him, it had felt so right.
But now, she was alone. And naked.
Luella sat up, tugging the bottom sheet with her—a thin white blanket that was woven with supple threads, like silk, over her skin. The curtains that led out of the room were pulled close, but the faint murmur of voices on the other side let her know she was not entirely alone here.
Good. For some reason, this hazy space of white and blue and shifting shadows felt like a dream. Her hand absently touched the amulet around her neck as she stared at the curtains.
She released a soft sigh and stood, wrapping the sheet around her, the ends pooling to the floor. She didn’t know where her clothes were…
Luella swallowed, feeling how dry her mouth was.
She was thirsty and a bit hungry; though, not terribly so.
She had the faintest recollection of Az waking her up after she had dozed for a bit, pressing grapes with soft flesh that had popped under her teeth, against her lips, chasing it with sweet water.
She stared at the white floor, then toward the curtains.
The voices were still there, masculine and familiar. She strained to hear the words, but they danced away from her, too low to hear over the ever-present air that filled the open space of this palace… Graves’s?
She wondered.
Mind made up, she tiptoed to the curtains. Ensuring her wings were safely concealed under the sheet, she poked her head around the curtains, the whoosh sound of them opening seeming to echo off the curved stone ceilings.
All eyes turned to her.
Graves stood near a wall, his dark, feathered wings snapping out behind him at the sight of her.
Vale and Tharen sat on one of the cozy lounges, a platter of food before them, resting on a low table.
Bastian lay on a chaise lounge, an arm thrown over his head and one leg propped over a knee.
His silky black hair shifted as he turned his head toward her, red eyes half-lidded.
Az’s back was to her, sitting the closest to where she poked her head out from behind the curtains. He shifted imperceptibly but did not give her his full face.
Her cheeks heated as they stared. She looked down to ensure her body was hidden.
Tharen was the one to break the silence. "Someone rested well."
"S-sorry," she whispered. "I didn’t mean to interrupt." It was absurd. She was here because of them—shouldn’t she want to be loud and intrude?
Bastian held out a lazy hand. "You’re not interrupting, pet. Did you sleep well?"
She nodded, fingers curling in the sheet. Would now be a bad time to ask where her clothes were?
"You’ve awoken just in time," Vale said. "It’s nearing eve. We were going to have to wake you if you slept any longer. Come here." The King did not hold out a hand, but his beringed fingers grew white-knuckled, where they gripped his thighs.
"I cannot," she replied.
Tharen coughed.
Vale arched a brow. "Why not?"
"I am not… decent," Luella finally revealed.
Tharen coughed… again.
Smoke curled from Vale’s pinched lips, and Bastian released a long sigh.
"Choose your words carefully, pet. They are not in the mood to be tempted by you," Bastian said, and Luella jolted, so used to that sensual croon in her mind that it took her a moment to realize he had spoken aloud.
Oh. They could not possibly know, could they? Tension lined their faces, hanging heavily in the room.
Trust me. They know, said the vampire in her mind.
Her lips parted. Of course, they did. They had known when she had been trapped alone, so why would they not when merely a curtain kept them apart? Could she not ever have something just for herself?
Her flesh prickled beneath the sheet, nipples brushing against it, forcing her to bite her lower lip to stifle a gasp.
"I am not tempting them," she managed, steeling herself; though, she did not feel powerful. Her limbs trembled, and her heart raced. "If they cannot stand this, then perhaps they are not the males I thought them to be."
Az’s shoulders shook slightly. She wished he would turn to look at her. Why was he ignoring her? Was it her? Was it something she did? Had she not been good enough?
Embarrassed and vulnerable, she said, "Since you all know, I just need my clothes. They are gone."
Bastian unfurled from his spot on the lounge, his silken black hair falling over his elegant, dark brows. He wore a dark shirt, fresh and clean, the top laces undone. He walked toward her, and her fingers fisted the curtain tighter, as if the thin mesh could ward him off.
"Hm, pet." His scarlet eyes raked down her frame, and in that moment, she was taken back to another time—another curtain between them. She flushed from head to toe. "We threw your clothes out. They weren’t really yours anyway, were they? The Queen had something sent for you. It’s laid out in the wardrobe. "
Luella turned her head, peeking behind her to find a small wardrobe, twin doors crafted of white stone with a little handle in the shape of wings. If she had looked there first, she could have saved herself so much embarrassment.
"Okay, then," she squeaked, turning back to him as she moved to pull the curtain shut between them.
Cold hands stopped her. Bastian held her wrist delicately, his finger touching the white gold chain of the charm bracelet she wore.
He lowered his voice. "Can I come in?"
"I—" She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth, and his eyes dipped. The inside of her thighs was still damp from what Az had done, and tingles erupted between her legs at the mere thought. Bastian’s nostrils flared. "Why?"
The thread between them was crackling with tension, affection—and no ill intentions.
"Can I not simply want to be in your presence, pet?"
Her brows furrowed, and he released her wrist to reach up and smooth the tiny crease away.
It was that soft action, and the quiet in the room—even with the four others watching and listening in on their every breath—that made her relent.
Luella’s fingers loosened on the curtain, but she made sure the sheet was still tucked under her arms. Silently, she stepped aside, just a small bit, but it was enough for the vampire.
As Bastian stepped inside, she saw a flash of horns and tanned skin as Az turned to watch her, a dark, purpling bruise under his eye. The curtains fell shut, and she wondered if it was just a trick of the dimming light.
"Was that—"
Bastian pressed a finger over her lips. "Do not question it. Some things are better handled between males."
Unbidden, her tongue poked out to wet her lips, catching the pad of his index finger in the process. He groaned, yet pulled his hand away as if it were the most painful thing he had ever done.
"The dress," Bastian prodded, tone like the silken air that filled the room.
He opened the wardrobe, revealing a gorgeous, yet simple, gown hanging within. It was soft blue, with white stitching at the hem. Sleeveless, with a thick collar at the neck that acted as the straps—it reminded her of the gown she had seen the Queen in.
Luella bundled the sheet closer to her body. Bastian’s eyes tracked the movement and traced over where the thin sheet did little to hide her every dip and curve, or the faint rising and falling of her chest as she breathed. Could he see the jumping of her pulse where it fluttered on her stomach?
"I cannot wear this."
Bastian pulled the gown from within. "Why not, pet?"
Tucked under the sheet, her wings fluttered. Was it yearning? Was it preening?
"My wings."
He sighed deeply. "Let us take care of that, pet. Trust us—trust me."
She shook her head slightly, staring at the gown in his hands. "I want to, but we are on the Fallen Isles. What if they h-hurt me?"
His finger tapped under her chin, lifting her face to his. "We have it handled, pet. Wear the dress." He pressed it into her hands, not moving away. His voice dipped to a croon. "Do you need help?"
The fabric was soft in her hands, and she imagined it to be soft on her body. She took a careful step backward, nearly toppling due to her wings. "Just… turn around."
His lips quirked. "As you wish."
The vow from Bastian’s lips sounded pretty. Full of devotion. He turned, facing the wardrobe.
Luella eyed his back as she dropped the sheet, lifting the gown in her hands. The back was entirely open, as she had assumed, making it easy for her to step into. It caught around her hips, so she wiggled it up further, holding it over her chest with an arm as she fumbled with the collar.
"Are you sure you don’t need my help?"
Her hands stilled on the collar, glancing to Bastian, who faced away from her still.
The dress covered her, and the air was cool against her bare back and wings. If she dropped it, it would fall. "No. I think I d-do need help," she said, voice soft.
Bastian turned, shoulders tensing as he eyed her. As always, her wings were tucked close against her back.