Page 120 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile
He could still smell her arousal—that sweet, beautiful scent that told him she wantedhimand only him.
She squeezed his arm, an amused tilt to her lips when she glanced up at him before shifting her gaze forward, meeting his eyes in the mirrored wall of water ahead instead.
“What happens now?” Lessia asked, and Merrick was proud of her for not whispering.
He somehow felt like they needed to be careful here, keep their voices low and not awaken whatever slumbered within the mirrored water facing them from all directions, so for her to speak so freely, so unafraid…
“How should we know?” Raine snapped, and Merrick sliced his eyes to his friend, his top lip curling back at his tone.
But he didn’t scold him, not when Lessia’s little sister had already stomped so hard on his foot that his friend snarled at her.
Merrick respected that she snarled right back, not backing down an inch when the massive red-haired Fae towered over her. The little Rantzier’s nostrils flared as she glared at Raine, but when she opened her mouth to tell the Fae warrior off, Lessia raised a hand.
“It’s fine,” she said softly. “It was a dumb question.”
A frown formed across Merrick’s forehead, and Lessia must have noticed it because she whispered under her breath, “He’s scared.”
Merrick’s brows lowered further as he moved his gaze from Lessia to Raine.
But she was right. It wasn’t just anger in Raine’s taut shoulders—in the sharp lines of his usually slack features. There was something in them that Merrick knew his friend had spent decades pushing down.
Something he was fighting for his life trying to keep at bay as he avoided the reflective surfaces with all his might.
Because, unlike the rest of them, Raine wasn’t looking around—his gaze remained locked on Frelina, who still glared at him. She must have noticed what Merrick was last to figure out, though, as while her face was painted with defiance, her fingers brushed Raine’s when he couldn’t hide a shudder running through him, her other small hand lifting to shield his view of the mirrored wall closest to them.
Surprisingly, Raine didn’t back away.
He leaned into her instead. Like… she was comforting him.
Merrick dragged his teeth across his bottom lip as he turned to Lessia, who appeared to have been eyeing him while he watched them.
Somehow, he didn’t like what he saw in her eyes, especially not when a shaky smile lightened them as she moved her gaze to Frelina and Raine, who’d moved even closer now.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Merrick hissed. “There is no way.”
If he lost her, he’d never move on. There would never be someone who could comfort him. He’d been alone before her, and while he’d make sure there wouldn’t be an after her, there was no one else for him.
Lessia didn’t respond, but that brightness in her eyes remained.
Merrick opened his mouth to argue with her again—make sure she understood he’d never fucking move on from her, that he wouldn’t accept a life without her—when the walls of water around them whirled.
“Fuck,” he swore as he flung himself toward Lessia.
But it was too late.
It was as if the world around them liquefied, thick silver waves swallowing everything until they consumed him, wrapped him tight in a bright, cool blanket.
Merrick tried to swear again, but he couldn’t speak. He could only watch the strange blanket blur and dance and play before his eyes, holding his limbs hostage, until his head spun.
Blinking, Merrick pushed the fear, not for himself but for Lessia, away as he fought against the nausea and dizziness that seemed to want to pull him under, filling his ears with a buzzing that seemed somehow familiar.
He couldn’t allow it. He could feel that if he did, it would be over. How, he didn’t know, but a strange feeling raced over his skin, up and down his spine until his insides were as cool as whatever was wrapped around him.
Light exploded before his eyes.
The buzzing quieted.
And then the walls snapped back again, as still as they had been when they sailed in, his reflection’s slight distortion the only clue that it wasn’t true mirrors he was looking at or standing on.
