Page 169 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

Merrick swallowed Lessia’s cry with his lips, crashing them against her own as he began moving, pushing into her with one deliberate thrust at a time.

Shifting her arms so they were locked around his neck, Merrick began sliding in deeper, harder, and his mouth left hers to move to her ear, whispering “Give. It. To. Me” in rhythm with his movements.

As he trailed his lips lower, never losing the speed of his thrusts, her pussy contracted around his thick hardness. Then his teeth sank into her skin, and Merrick’s hand flew to cover the cry leaving her as the orgasm shot up from the pit of her gut through her stomach and out into her entire body.

He continued to push his cock up into her until his body jerked, his cock twitching, and he spilled within her with one final thrust.

They came down together, and even when their breathing became normal and the heat in her veins chilled, Merrick held on to her, refusing their bodies any space as he rested his forehead against her shoulder.

It wasn’t until Lessia finally straightened, and Merrick gave her a quick peck before helping her down and into her clothes again, that she realized her shirt was wet where he’d leaned his face.

But neither of them said anything as they made their way back to their cabin—not to sleep, not when the sun had just started peeking over the horizon, but to at least change and get their weapons to prepare for what the new day would bring.

Chapter 37

Loche

The mood across the ships couldn’t be more different from the one of last night.

Gone was the passion and bristling energy and laughter, and in their places a suffocating silence stretched out across the sea, allowing even the faintest murmur that might occur across the thirty or so ships now floating in what he hoped would be an impenetrable row to be heard by everyone.

Loche glanced around the ship where he stood. They’d ended up deciding to keep Rioner’s ship in the middle, with him and Lessia and the Fae who would not be atop the cliff standing in the center of it, while Zaddock and Ardow led his best troop of soldiers in the bow.

Around them, each ship was filled with armed soldiers, all bearing the Ellow crest on their chests or arms, and behind them, atop the dark cliff jutting out over the vessels, Kerym and Raine led the best archers, with the Faelings who would fight dispersed between them.

The bluest eyes he’d ever seen collided with his own, and he quickly looked away when Iviry’s gaze swept across his face from where she stood beside Merrick, Lessia, and Thissian.

Y-you’re my mate.

Loche couldn’t even begin to consider the implications of this, even if he somehow sensed her around him now, like a shadow that wasn’t his own but followed him all the same.

They’d stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before Loche had excused himself and retreated to his room, where he’d spent the night looking out the window at the stars and moon that reflected in the too-calm sea.

He’d felt her eyes on him all morning, when they’d eaten a quick breakfast and then made all the final preparations, but she hadn’t approached him, and for that he was thankful.

What would he even say?

What could he offer her but disappointment?

Loche shook his head as one of the two copper-haired sisters strolled up to the group of Fae, her hair not as fiery as Iviry’s but still so similar that he looked away, instead tracking Lessia, who cast him a quick smile as she passed him on her way to the stern, where that terrifying sea wyvern rose from the water, large droplets rushing down her long neck and glistening atop the thick dark spikes lining her violet-scaled body.

The scene before his eyes seemed too tender, too sweet, for a beast and half-Fae, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away when the wyvern settled her head against Lessia’s body while she wrapped her arms around it, whispering something Loche couldn’t pick up into the creature’s ear.

“Their bond is a fierce and fragile one.” Merrick placed a hand on Loche’s shoulder, a gesture the regent would have felt the urge to shake off only a few days ago but that now filled him with a strange sense of gratitude for the Fae. “They are made of the same cloth, those two. History has seen it before, like it shall see it again. In war?—”

“Unlikely allies find that the threads of their souls are woven from the same loom, that they were bound together even before the birth of their realm and their gods. That their past is linkedas their future always shall be.” Soria smiled as she approached them, not the Fae, as Loche believed she’d first intended.

Merrick frowned at her, his hand dropping from Loche’s shoulder. “You know our old sayings?”

“They’re notyoursayings. You Fae always think you come up with everything, don’t you?” Soria tsked before continuing. “Their truth comes from the magic of our worlds, from those who see it and guard it and mold it.”

“So they come from the gods, then?” Loche asked when he felt Iviry’s eyes on him again, turning more toward Soria as she sidled up beside Merrick.

Not that he’d ever heard of the saying Soria and Merrick were referring to, but everyone believed the gods had created these realms, even if neither humans nor Fae worshipped them anymore.

Soria threw her head back and laughed. “The gods have as much to do with it as this ship, my dear regent.”

He kept his eyes on her when he caught Iviry and Thissian walking up to them, the former throwing her long hair over her shoulder as she stared at Soria.