Page 154 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

Merrick’s eyes flared. “This is what I didn’t want! I don’t want you to want me because of fate. You’ve made it very fucking clear what you think of the gods and the fate they bestow on us. Do you think I wanted to force another thing on you?”

“I don’t want you because of the stupid bond!” she screamed. “I want you because you make me feel alive! Because you believe in me when I don’t believe in myself. Because you try to make dumb jokes to make me happy. Because you make me fires to keep the darkness at bay. Because you hide your smile when I’ve made you proud in training. Because when I fucking stab you, you lecture me about missing your heart!” She shoved him back again. “You knew there was something deeper, something even stronger, pulling us together! And you fucking reject me when I kiss you! What is wrong with you!”

Merrick gripped her hands when she went to push him again, pulling her flush against his hard chest, where his heart beat so hard Lessia wondered if she should be worried.

“What is wrong with me?” he hissed. “What is wrong with me?”

Merrick released her, backing up against the wall, his hands dropping by his sides and his gaze dropping to the floor. “What’s wrong with me is that I’m the fucking Death Whisperer, Lessia!”

She followed him, her heart thundering in her chest. “I don’t give a shit!”

In a blink, he was before her again, towering over her as he growled, “Do you know how many I’ve killed? Do you understand what my magic is? I walk the fucking thread that keeps our world separate from the afterlife—and not the one where those gentle souls go. No, my whispers belong to those too evil to pass through fully—the ones who are angry and who only want to drag more souls into the agony that is now their world.”

“I. Don’t. Care,” she hissed between clamped teeth as she placed her hands on his chest.

“I don’t,” she repeated, louder this time.

Merrick panted as he stared down at her, his eyes darker than she’d ever seen them, and shook his head. “What do you want from me?”

What did shewantfrom him?

She nearly reached for one of her daggers to stab some sense into him.

“The fucking truth, Merrick.” She shoved him once more. “I want the truth and not you trying to spare me from fate or whatever else you might think to take upon your own shoulders. I want it all! I want to fucking share it with you.”

“Stop pushing me,” Merrick warned.

She did it again.

In the next second, her back was against the gray stone, Merrick’s hands wrapped around her arms as he crowded her against it, his face an inch from hers as he hissed, “Do you want to hear how I can barely be in the same room as you without losing my mind from your scent invading my every fucking sense?”

One of his hands clasped around her neck, fingers pressing against the pulse that beat wildly there.

Bending his head, Merrick slowly dragged his nose along her neck, inhaling so deeply it sent goose bumps rippling across her exposed skin.

His eyes slammed into hers as he straightened again, a jolt running through her so strong that she jumped—heating every single inch of her body.

“Do you want me to tell you that every time I helped you up from the floor when we trained, I had to physically restrain myself from pushing you down again and having my way with you? From claiming your fucking perfect lips and ripping those damned leathers off, making you scream from something other than frustration?”

Merrick released her arm, moving the hand to rest on the wall beside her head as he stepped even closer, pressing his hard body against hers until her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes flashed as she pushed against him, and when a low whimper fell from her lips at the hardness digging into her thigh, Merrick swore loudly.

“Do you want me to tell you I nearly ripped that fucking dress Loche gave you to shreds and that I was only able to stop myself because you wore something with my scent with it?”

The hand around her neck squeezed softly before moving down, fisting the jacket she wore, and Lessia couldn’t stop a moan when he roughly pulled at it, twisting the fabric until it shrieked.

“Do you want me to tell you I wanted to fuck you senseless on that table tonight—regardless of who was watching—when you walked in wearing my shirt?”

A muffled sound escaped her when Merrick’s grip tightened further.

Heat burned in his eyes as he bored them into hers, and that hunger she’d seen earlier returned, filling the entire darkness.

Only now, it was entirely primal.

Raw, primitive need that she knew reflected in her own eyes.

A rough breath left him before he cursed “Fuck it” and ripped the jacket to shreds.

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