Chapitre 35: Chapter 35: Are We Dead Yet?

Ambrose Drak

"By the gods," groans Mercy, who stirs on top of Ambrose. "Are we dead, yet?"

"Not yet, but close enough." His arms and legs entwined with hers highlight just how tightly pressed their bodies now lay.

He brushes hair out of her face and stares into her familiar, clear blue irises. Her flaming red hair offers an even greater contrast to her silvery, shimmering skin than that of her human coloration.

"You okay?" He raises a hand to caress the side of her face. With a circular motion, he traces the outline of a bruise forming on her cheekbone.

Mercy holds his gaze for several seconds before turning away.

"Hey, look at me." Cupping her chin, he gently coaxes her to face him.

Her eyes widen. She pushes up with her arms and falls against his chest.

A small cry escapes her full, silvery-colored lips.

"What's wrong?" His gaze travels to her shoulder, where a pewter-colored tail with bands twitches.