Merrick snapped his teeth together but didn’t push further. Sparrow was loyal to a fault, but she had a good head on her shoulders. If she wasn’t concerned, Merrick decided he shouldn’t be either.
“Lenna, dear, why don’t you go get some rest? I know a being in town that might be able to help us translate the spell Laurent wrote down, and I’d like you to join Esmeray and I tomorrow.” Sparrow’s kindness did not go unnoticed by Merrick. He also noted thepurplish under eyes and colorless skin on the Oracle, and had recommended the same before Sparrow returned. Lenna nodded, finally standing up on shaky legs.
The Oracle’s hand reached out to the Prism, but Sparrow gently lay her own atop Lenna’s. “Why don’t you leave that here for now? Focus on getting some rest, okay?” It wasn’t a question. Merrick could tell Sparrow knew exactly what she was doing. They needed to keep Lenna out of the Prism so that she didn’t burn out diving into whatever she was looking for in the past. Merrick did not understand the draw–going in and out of the Prism had left him nauseated from the drag and pull of consciousness. Somehow, it was worse than waning.
Lenna’s brows furrowed for a split second, but she murmured her agreement and wished the table good night.
Merrick stared down Sparrow, Laurent doing the same once they heard the door to Lenna’s bedroom close. The beautiful fae ignored both of them as she collected the papers Laurent had written the spell from Adara on. Without looking up, she cleared her throat. “Esmeray and I decided that the seer prophecies are not necessarily about saving Keerian. For the time being, we will tread carefully, but won’t be wasting time trying to find some semblance of commonality between the prophecies and our goals.”
Laurent pursed his lips.
Merrick bit out, “And you both decided that without asking us? Or Lenna?”
Sparrow’s blue eyes narrowed on him. “Esmeray and I have been unravelling truth from lie, tracking down potential sources of information, focusing on saving Keerian, and exposing Adara for much longer than you have. I amverythankful that you are both trusting Esmeraynow, but some things will take time to catch you up on–things that do not involve you, and things that will take too long to explain.”
Merrick threw his hands up. “So, we’re supposed to sit here and give you our blind faith?”
“Isn’t that what you gave Adara before Esmeray revealed the truth to you?” Sparrow snapped. The words cut deep, but she wasn’t wrong. Merrick and Laurent exchanged a look, the latter blowing out a long breath.
“Can we exchange this coffee back for wine now?” Laurent changed the subject expertly, dimming the unease in the room. Merrick could tell he was trying to breeze over the power struggle going on between Sparrow and himself. Part of Merrick wanted to demand answers. And the other part wanted to see Sparrow carefree, wine drunk, and happy.
Sparrow, seemingly picking up on the subtle messaging, smiled brightly at Laurent. “Why don’t we take a few bottles up to the roof? It’s a nice night.” Nothing else about Esmeray’s whereabouts was provided, besides alluding to her being back in time to go to town tomorrow.
He wondered what the Queen was up to. She was Keerian’s mate. He worried for a moment that she could endanger herself, but thought back to how unhinged and violent Esmeray fought at the waterfall, coming to the conclusion that if anyone could defend themselves, it was her.
Forcing a pleasant look on his face, Merrick helped Sparrow pick up the remaining cutlery and mugs from the table. At least, with Esmeray gone to gods-knew-where for the night, he could get a few hours of flirting in with Sparrow.
Laurent, following behind them with his own hands full, seemed to have the same idea. Thethought made Merrick’s blood race.
He loved competitions.
But he hated losing.
Thenightairwaschilly, but the small fire Laurent conjured to float in the center of the patio gave off a nice, radiant, warmth.
Sparrow was back in that fluffy blue robe, killing Merrick slowly with those golden legs on display. She had taken up residence on one of the chairs they carried up from the house, her legs crossed at the ankles, golden hair spilling around her shoulders as she sipped delicately from her long-stemmed wine glass.
Laurent was engaged in conversation with her, his eyes politely never leaving Sparrow’s face. Merrick prayed Sparrow wouldn’t notice the war raging inside of him. He was so drawn to her. Her wild lease on life, her sharp mind, those curves, that golden hair.
Sparrow’s musical laughter snapped Merrick back to the present, his eyes darting to Laurent.
Had Laurent cracked one of his rarejokes?
Merrick clenched his jaw, easing a languid smile on his face–trying to appear as if he was listening to the conversation, not imagining Sparrow’s body under his own.
Sparrow grinned at Laurent, her dainty hand reaching out to grip his forearm. Merrick’s pulse jumped, wishing that hand was wrapped around his–
“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Merrick?” Sparrow asked, again interrupting Merrick’s thoughts.
Merrick opened his mouth, closed it, and tried, unsuccessfully, to think of a singleword to say.
Her laugh rang out again as her other hand reached out and stroked his arm. She squeezed both lightly before releasing them, picking her glass back up from the ground by her chair. “You do know I can tell you’re both flirting with me…right?” Her blue eyes revealed a wicked gleam Merrick had not been privy to before.
Laurent swallowed thickly. Merrick sat up straighter, hoping something witty and devastatingly charming would spill forth from his gaping jaw. “I–we–uhm…”Fuck. Merrick didn’t know what to do with his hands, his mouth. He cleared his throat and began chugging his wine.
“Have you ever been with a female together?” Sparrow’s question clanged through Merrick, causing him to choke on his drink. He couldn’t bring himself to even look over at Laurent.
“Ah–I… No.” Merrick felt his face heat. Fucks sake, he was one hundred and twelve years old, a fierce, battle-hardened warrior, part of the Opal Palace’s elite. And he was completely and utterly speechless in front of this female. Laurent, on Sparrow’s other side, seemed to be faring just as well–if not worse.
