Page 48 of The Gargoyle's Glade
“Merry?” I couldn’t help the worry that laced my tone.
“I’m just tired.”
I let my wings out and opened my arms. Despite the flare of discomfort from the bond, I couldn’t help the wave of pride and pleasure that washed over me when she came straight into my embrace and threw her arms around my neck.
“Take me home, please?” Nothing had ever sounded sweeter or made my blood pound as hard in my throat as those words.
I scooped her up against me and pumped my wings, chasing up plumes of dust. “As you wish, Firebird. Whatever you need.”
Chapter 19
Merry
Ophelia had warned me, as had Tap, but being told was completely different than seeing it for myself. I leaned into the mirror, heart pounding as I examined the area under my collarbone. Symbols had appeared on my skin, painless ink the color of flames. They were simple but beautiful, all organic swirls and dots.
As I traced over them with my fingers, the bathroom door burst open. “Merry? Are you—” Coltor stopped in the doorway, clearly horrified with himself for repeating something that had caused tension between us, debating what the correct next action should be. “You shouted.”
“It’s fine.” I was wrapped in a towel, my hair wet down my back. I chuckled at how we’d ended up back here again, just under very different circumstances. “You can come in.”
Cautiously, he stepped forward. His eyes widened and he approached me slowly, his gaze trained on the mirror.
He stretched out a finger toward my skin but stopped before touching. “They’re lovely. And they’re the same color as your hair, Firebird.”
“Is that why you call me that? My hair?”
“In part.” Coltor rocked back on his heels, crossing his arms as though trying to keep himself from reaching out again. “It’s your hair, certainly, but also the way the sun often lights you up in such a way that you remind me of that creature. You hold your arms like wings, and a trick of the light gives you blazing feathers…” He trailed off, features pinching like he’d said more than he intended. “This mark.” Rough fingertips traced along the birthmark on my back. “It looks like a feather.” His eyes lingered on the curve of my shoulders, the hem of the towel at the top of my breasts. I stared at him in the mirror as he looked at me, the edge of his desire sharp. My pulse throbbed in response, and I clenched my thighs together. He looked up, dark eyes nearly all pupil. “You should get dressed, Merry.”
“Or?”
His throat worked as he swallowed. “We need to discuss some things before there’s anor.”
“Alright.”
Coltor left the bathroom, and I pulled on a simple tunic that was several sizes too big and more like a dress than a shirt. Comb in hand, I steeled myself with a deep breath before joining him on my sofa. He’d lit a fire, and the gathering of little carvings appeared to glow from their place on the hearth.
Much of the fatigue that I’d been feeling at the celebration had gone, replaced by an energized anxiety that I knew would leave me extra tired when it passed.
“May I?” he asked, reaching for my comb.
“Sure.”
“Thanks. It will be easier to speak if I have something to keep my hands busy.”
“Oh?” My cheeks heated, and he hadn’t even started talking yet. “Is this about the mate thing?”
“Yes. What do you know? So that I know where to start.”
Hailon and Lovette had both told me their own stories, how the mate bond had presented and what it meant to be fated to someone. There didn’t seem to be any difference whether the bond belonged to a demon or a stone kin. Not to mention that Magnus and Grace were a pairing much like Coltor and I were. Could be. My heart fluttered an odd rhythm as I corrected myself. I relayed what I knew to Coltor as the strokes of the comb through my damp hair relaxed me.
“Yes. Did they mention what happens if one refuses a bond? Or ignores it?”
“No.”
“Mmm.” He was quiet for several moments as he finished combing through my curls and braided it into one long plait. When he was done, I turned to face him. He looked crestfallen.
“Why do you look so sad? How could you doubt that I feel a similar way for you as you do for me at this point? Did you miss that I was throwing myself at you in the bathroom?” I was teasing, but it was too heavy in the room to lighten things much.
“I don’t doubt, and I didn’t miss it. Trust me when I say I wish it were that simple.”
