Page 49 of The Salvation

“You need her, you bloody fucking prick,” Drago points out with a snarl while Quintessa cups the back of Aislynn’s head.

“True, true. But we all know how the nature of your bond works.” Reaver nods at me. “And you, Merikh, have just proven your sole desire to make one bleed without killing them. I will simply be doing unto others what has been done to me.”

Quintessa’s eyes widen with the awareness.

The second he steps toward her, I break free of my brothers’ hold and lock my hand around Reaver’s throat. “Punish me, you sick son of a bitch. Makemefucking bleed.”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, Merikh. Ahh, how sweet and delicious to finally uncover a chink in the mighty Merikh’s fortress. How delightful to know I can get blood from a stone.” He doesn’t lose his twisted smirk as he pries my grip from his throat before nodding to my little dove. “But I’ll take her lovely blood this time. It will prevent you from any future reckless acts. After, you may be on yourmerry way with her to the Sea of Bones. She will be perfectly whole when it’s time to enter the Hollows.”

“I’m the only one who gets to hurt her, you fucking parasite,” I growl.

“Oh, you will be, old friend. This is your fault, after all. I need you to understand the gravity of your situation. Consider it retribution, if you will. A few mere marks on her little body and a few drops of spilled blood are very little payment for thousands of years I spent in the lost halls of the Underworld.”

“Merikh...”

All of us turn at the sound of her silvery voice. No whimper. It’s too strong, too fucking beautiful, and steady. And I know why. I don’t want to turn and face her. I want to claw out the bastard’s fucking throat. I want to lose myself to nothing but the death tearing through my veins. Or at least fade to their numb nightmare.

Instead, I force myself to look upon my little dove. At her smallest and weakest, she is strongest. Silent tears in her eyes. Her face is paler than ever. And she holds Aislynn like a lifeline.

Her eyes have turned to silver flames—driven by that steel-bound, self-sacrificial determination that drove her through darkness and into the Hag’s lair.

“He won’t break me. He can’t.” She shakes her head, rooting her eyes upon mine in an unbroken moment of clarity.

Fuck, she’s a riptide swallowing me into the darkness of that goddamned crypt, where I stripped her, plunged my cock into her mouth, and studied her at her most vulnerable. And watched her rise up and take herself back.

The only one who gets to break me isme.

The ones with the deepest scars have the greatest hearts.

“You’ve already broken me.” Gods, those words!—she peels apart every last scar on my skin, crawls inside, and makes themher home. And then, she stabs her chin at me to finalize, “This is me putting myself together. And showing you how to do it.”

Off to the side, Reaver merely observes her with that same crooked smile while he strokes his wounded jaw.

Nodding to Drago, she unwraps the sling, and the dragon steps closer to take our daughter. I don’t take my eyes off Quintessa, but as soon as she surrenders Aislynn, I close the distance between us and wrap my bloodied hand around her neck.

“Little dove...” I deepen my voice to a low, silky purr.

She presses her little body against mine while sliding her hand across my chest to touch my scars. “You said you’re the only one who gets to hurt me. But I’m the one who gets to do it, too. And tonight, I’ll do it for you.”

“How curious...” Reaver expresses, his words like rusty blades carving into my spine. “It wouldn’t be the only time someone has bled for you, has it, Merikh? Or from you?”

“Shut the fuck up,” I growl at him without looking away from her.

Quintessa’s brows pull together in confusion. Before she enters the Hollows, I will fulfill my vow to Kyan. And give her us. But I know we have little choice in the current matter. Reaver would not hesitate to summon the simplest blood-binders to use their power upon him. He would torture himself to inflict pain upon Aislynn.

He has me by the balls. And he fucking knows it.

Pulling away from me, Quintessa sucks in a deep breath, turns around, and faces Reaver. “Do your worst, you miserable prick of a worm.”

“Oh, little one...” he chuckles ominously while shaking his head before clutching her chin. “This will not be your stage. And Merikh may be the guest of honor, but he will not be our only audience.”

She is notthe half-ghost girl of scars and ink anymore.

She is not the Queen of the monster gods.

She is not even Quintessa, who ended three curses and broke one.

At this moment, she is a mother.

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