Page 32 of In Rising Tides

“Aye,” Fang rumbled, crossing his arms over his chiseled chest. “The council convenes.”

Verilia and Taria swam quickly across her room before slipping out the door without a backward glance, leaving Lyra to handle them on her own.

“Did Drystan send you?” Lyra asked before turning back to her looking glass and dabbing a rose jelly across her lips.

“Come with us,” Fang growled.

With one powerful whip of his tail, he was across her room and wrapping a hand around her upper arm.

Lyra wrenched herself from his grasp and glared daggers at him.

“Get your hand off me,” she hissed.

Color rose to her cheeks as her chest vibrated with anger.

The audacity of him to put hands on her.

But the color had drained from Fang’s face, and he ripped his hand from her skin as if she had shocked him.

The current stilled, and the room fell quiet. Her shoulders rose and fell in quick succession with each of her breaths as she aimed a hard stare at the red marks he had marred her flesh with.

“You dare touch what is mine,” Drystan said with subdued menace from the doorway.

A dark cloud blanketed the room, and the guards bowed low, their tails flicking in sharp motions.

“Apologies, Your Majesty,” Fang said quickly. “I didn’t mean?—”

“Lyra,” Drystan said; her name on his lips was surprisingly tender despite the absolute wrath that crackled from his presence. “Come here.”

The room felt hot and cold.

Her hands felt clammy, and she could have sworn ice pressed against the nape of her neck.

Despite her reluctance to obey, she heeded his order, grasping his outstretched hand.

His calluses scraped her palm as he pulled her to him. He brushed his thumb across her knuckles, and she flinched at the gentle touch.

“Did he hurt you?”

His voice slipped through pursed lips, but remained soft.

Lyra looked up into his face. The dimple in his chin was invisible as he shifted his jaw from side to side. His golden-amber eyes searched every inch of her face before dropping to her neck and then to her arm.

He gently twisted the hand he held in his, bringing her upper arm closer to his face.

“It’s nothing,” Lyra replied, watching as a myriad of emotions whirled across his face.

Anger, confusion, and then worry.

Fang and Angler didn’t dare move as Drystan twisted her arm this way and that way, trying to get a clearer look at her injury.

This close to Drystan, she could breathe him in if she wished, yet she found herself holding her breath.

Her arm throbbed where Fang had grabbed her. She could feel her blood pulsing beneath her skin. He hadn’t truly grabbed her that roughly. She had no idea why she was feeling such pain.

When Lyra felt Drystan still, she knew there was an impending eruption, and she had no desire to watch him butcher another merman. Especially this early in the day.

“Are we going to be late?” she asked, drawing his attention from her arm back to her eyes.