Chapter 28
Lessia
Lessia placed a hand on the tall mirror in the small room they’d been given at the inn.
It was dusty, and the golden frame, which must have shone when it was new, carried cracks and rifts, whispering of the mirror’s long life.
Ever since the Lakes of Mirrors, she had avoided reflective surfaces, especially since she’d caught a glimpse of herself on Korina and noted how hollow her eye sockets were, how dull her skin and hair, and how her lips kept breaking from their dryness.
But something about this one was different. Lessia moved a finger to trace one of the longer slits, following it, weaving down the side of the mirror as Merrick stepped up behind her.
She smiled as he pushed her hair to the side and kissed her neck, his nose trailing up her sensitive skin in the way that always had her shiver.
“You tired?” Merrick murmured against her ear, butshe shook her head, his touch, as always, waking her up—even if it had been a long day.
They’d ridden since dawn, only stopping once to eat quickly, until the mare—one of the fastest breeds in Vastala—had slowed her steps, and they’d found a small village surrounded by beautiful tall trees with a pool of glittering water in the middle of the square.
She’d stared at it longingly, feeling both dusty and exhausted from the long ride, and Merrick had assured her they could come back but that first they needed to ensure the horse was cared for and that they had somewhere to sleep.
Lessia’s eyes followed Merrick’s long fingers in the mirror as they slipped into her neckline, pulling at her tunic so he could plant more kisses along her shoulders, making a thrill of heat shoot from deep in her core.
A low moan slipped out when his other hand moved across her stomach, fingers slowly moving down toward the ache between her legs. She couldn’t stop staring at Merrick admiring her skin before each kiss, how his fingers moved steadily and assuredly, but with no rush, as if he wanted to remember every moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” she blurted out, and he lifted his head, a small smile playing across his full lips as he rested his chin on her shoulder.
He was beautiful. Silver hair glowing softly in the fire burning behind them. Skin perhaps as dusty as her own but still perfect, soft and hard at the same time, with the muscles she couldn’t get enough of playing beneath. Eyes that glittered from the silver swirls dancing in them.
“You’re the one who’s beautiful,” Merrick rasped. “Look at yourself.”
Lessia did as he asked, and meeting her own eyes in the mirror, she stilled.
They looked so…
It was as if they’d liquefied somehow. Like a burning fire melting them into pure gold, but with red flames sparkling within.
“What—” She took a step closer to the mirror, and the background changed.
Merrick still stood behind her, his clothing the same, but…
They were on the island she’d grown up on—she could clearly make out the snaking path, the lush bushes, and the trees lining it. The cottage stood proudly farther up the hill, exactly like it had when she’d met Solana there. This time, too, it called for her, and she nearly took another step before she realized she couldn’t.
It was only a mirror, and she couldn’t walk into the glass.
“What is going on?” Lessia moved her eyes to Merrick, who only smiled at her.
“Just keep looking,” he whispered. “Look at us.”
Frowning now, she continued staring into the place she’d once called home, and it was as if the mirror needed her to focus because the background shifted again. They now stood upon the cliffs that Lessia and Frelina had played and sunned themselves on as children, the white stone sparkling in the sunlight that she could feel across her skin.
And at their feet…
Five young girls with golden-brown hair and eyes as dark as the night sky but filled with stars that whirled when the children looked up at Lessia and Merrick. They played with a few shells, throwing them across the waterlike Lessia had used to do to make them bounce on the surface.
“Who?” She didn’t really need to ask, and Merrick knew it because he just nodded for her to continue looking, so much love radiating from his body that it felt like it might choke her.
These must be their girls. These were the children she’d wished for when tattooing his skin. But five of them? And five who looked identical?
The longer she surveyed them… the more a fierce protectiveness—a fiery love—burst through her, and her limbs twitched in response, something in her burning to keep these girls safe.
