Page 121 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

Merrick was no longer on the ship. His dark boots were planted on the same strange lake that made up the walls ahead of him, behind him, and above him.

Wherever he turned, his own dark eyes stared back at him.

But they weren’t reallyhiseyes…

No, when he looked closer, he could tell the silver in them was slightly off, his posture not as hostile as he knew it must look like right now, when he sensed the danger lurking all around him, when white-hot rage began burning within him as he realized Lessia was nowhere to be found.

“Where is she?” he snarled when one of the reflections raised an arrogant brow.

That’s your first question, Merrick Morshold?

The voice bounced all around him.

Within him.

Thrummed through his blood.

An urge to bow—to submit—washed through him, but he fought it.

He didn’t kneel to anyone but her.

He never had and never would.

“Where. Is. She?” he repeated, ignoring the last name he’d never claimed—that he’d never felt worthy of, after hearing thestories of his brave parents—his words so icy he almost expected a white cloud to leave his mouth after each one.

She is here.

His teeth snapped together with a sharp sound.

If the legends were true, the gods couldn’t lie.

“Is she safe?” Merrick didn’t react as one of the many reflections of him opened its mouth in a laugh, its eyes twinkling at him when he only stared at it.

She is safe here.

Here.

He didn’t like the sound of that.

“How can Ialwaysmake her safe?” Merrick asked as he glanced down at the reflection beneath him.

Its face held pity, and he quickly looked up again.

He preferred the manic laughter to the sadness in those eyes.

You can’t.

The voice was matter of fact, void of feeling.

“Why not?” he snarled, the rage that burned hotter with each nonanswer making his fingers twitch, and he wondered for a second what would happen if he plunged his sword into the silver beneath him.

I wouldn’t advise trying that.

The laughing reflection threw its head back in a silent cackle, appearing almost frenzied, while another shook its head, waving a finger toward the identical ruby-lined sword on its back.

“Answer my fucking questions, then!” Merrick could feel this was not the way to speak to the gods—his race’s creators—but there wasn’t time for damned pleasantries.

Besides, he’d never been particularly polite.