“You… you’re asking if you can pet me?” Merrick asked, and she knew she should have been worried about his low tone, but still, no sense of apprehension rippled across her skin. “It’s just your hair looks so soft and shiny, and I thought it would be nice to pet,” she tried to explain. A muscle in Merrick’s jaw ticked—in the same way it did before he contemplated slamming her into the ground when they trained—so when he said “Fine,” her brows nearly flew up to her hairline.
