Page 87 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile
“For only in their ultimate sacrifice can a new world be born—the world they have dreamed of, battled for, and wept over,” Lessia whispered as she rested her cheek against his back.
Tears must have stung her own eyes because while her skin was warm against his, wetness soon followed, and Merrick whirled around, pulling her against his chest more firmly than he should have, with all her injuries.
She melted against him, and he pulled her closer yet, wanting nothing more than to fuse them together, wanting something… anything!
Control. Power. Being able to fucking protect this beautiful soul whose heart hammered so hard against his bare chest he could barely take it, especially knowing it might not beat soon.
When she angled her tear-streaked face to his, he slammed his teeth together, telling himself to be strong.
“What was that you just said?” Merrick whispered back, unsure whether he really should ask the question, as he could sense what the answer would be.
Lessia unwound the hands she’d locked around his back, moving them to clasp his face.
He hated the look in her eyes. He hated it with such a vicious rage that his eyes unfocused for the second it took Lessia to speak.
But when she did, he forced himself to calm down—to listen. To be the fucking support she needed even if he hated every word leaving her mouth.
“It’s the end of the prophecy.” Her full bottom lip shook as she spoke, and he had to bend down and take it between histeeth, gently tugging on it until a soft gasp made its way into her lungs.
The shudder he was rewarded with as he pressed his lips against hers should have heated every inch of skin that aligned with hers, but when he released her and she continued speaking, the ice that had begun to spread across his heart continued until it felt as if it covered everything within him.
“I need to die for this to come true.” Lessia’s unbound fingers traced over the words, her eyes dropping down to read what she’d etched onto his skin, and when they lingered by the wordfuture, he couldn’t fucking take it.
Gripping her hand more gently than he wanted, he pulled it around his back, and securing his own hands around her too-cold cheeks, he tilted her face to his again.
“You don’t need to die.” Merrick tried his best not to glower, but he could see he wasn’t succeeding, based on the defiance that began to shine in Lessia’s amber eyes. “You don’t. You’re choosing to do it!”
“I didn’t choose this,” she hissed back.
He wanted to scream at her.
She didn’t need to sacrifice herself for a world that had done nothing but hurt her.
He wanted to tell her they could get the fuck away from here—hide somewhere in a realm so far away even the gods wouldn’t be able to find her.
But then her eyes softened, her lips lifting into the most heartbreaking smile he’d ever seen, and the words floated away like the pressure of his magic, which had been building under his skin.
“I love you so much,” she whispered.
He couldn’t take it.
The Death Whisperer shut his eyes.
Wanted to cover his ears like a fucking child.
“I do,” Lessia continued. “And I would… I would run with you if I thought it would help. But… I saw it in my father’s eyes, Merrick. This curse… this prophecy, it’ll catch up with us. Besides, what would it say about me if I ran? I’ve been hiding my entire life, and it’s time to step out of the shadows. Even if only for a short while.”
Merrick shook his head, his eyes still crushed shut so hard that colors flickered in the darkness before them.
Fabric scratched his cheek as her cold fingers tapped it.
“You and me,” she whispered.
Her fingers continued moving across his face.
Too slowly. Too lovingly. Too fucking kindly.
He couldn’t take it. It felt as if his heart would burst.
