Page 17 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

He sensed someone trying to pry into his mind, but before those claws—so similar to Raine’s—got hold, he sprang forward and with a sharp jab of his arm disarmed the guard that he knew, from his days in Rioner’s employ, was the one trying to control him.

The Fae faltered momentarily, and from the fear in his eyes, he surely realized who stood before him.

But it didn’t matter.

Sprinting around him, Merrick gripped his head and snapped his neck so forcefully it separated from his body before he was even able to make a sound.

Blood sprayed, but Merrick jumped out of the way while throwing the still-twitching body toward another guard.

Rioner’s guard’s face scrunched as his friend’s blood splattered onto it, and that was the expression he was allowed into the afterlife with as Merrick slammed a hand into his chest and ripped his heart out.

A scream sounded behind him, and he whirled, catching Raine’s eyes where he leaned against the railing, apparently just enjoying the show, before a female charged him with her sword held high.

She screamed again as her eyes flitted from Merrick to the male he’d just sent to live wherever they sent dead evildoers, as the souls already around him snatched up his essence and Merrick made his lips lift higher.

“Friend of yours?” he taunted as he circled the woman, keeping an eye on the male Fae who was trying either to sneak up on him from behind or to get away.

He was trying to get away, Merrick decided, when the souls and their whispers stirred louder, and even though he was disappointed, he bent down and picked up a wooden oar that lay by the railing. Without breaking eye contact with the female, he threw it.

His aim was still intact—or at least that’s what Merrick inferred from the muted sound of flesh being ripped apart before the oar thudded against the hull.

The female’s next outraged scream was also a clue.

Merrick kept his distance as he continued to stalk around her, hands behind his back, trying to rile her further.

He didn’t particularly enjoy fighting females, but this one had hurt Lessia… or at least stood idly by as someone else did so.

He’d make it quick.

When the female rushed him, he sidestepped her to the right, having already noticed she favored her left side, and all it took was an angled kick for her to lose her sword to him.

Then another swift movement to bury it in her heart.

Silence stretched out around him, interrupted only by the whispers clinging to this soul as well, dragging it with them to the afterlife.

Merrick closed his eyes, locking down his magic when they were finished.

“You fought bravely, you served well, you honored your people. Now rest,” he mumbled into the iron-tinged air.

Even though Merrick hadn’t even given these guards a chance to surrender—would not give any enemy on this ship the option—his commander had instilled respect for the fallen within him.

He’d told Merrick that perhaps it was even more important for him, as a guardian of death—or as they later called him, the Death Whisperer—to respect those who went before him.

“Sounds like there are more coming. Will you save one for the rest of us this time?”

Merrick nearly snapped his teeth at Raine’s voice, but instead he opened his eyes and found his friend in the same position as before—casually resting against the railing.

“Seems you needed a break,” Merrick responded as he jerked his head.

Thankfully, Raine was still in tune with how they used to fight, and with an eye roll, the latter started picking up the bodies and throwing them overboard.

Nothing could be done about the blood, though.

Shooting his eyes over to where Lessia and Ardow still stood, Merrick was relieved to find she wasn’t watching him with fear in her eyes.

On the contrary, it seemed she had some more life in her, her cheeks a bit rosier under the dirt stains.

More steps sounded, and Merrick stiffened when the voice he’d never forget—that he might hate more than all other sounds—sliced through the air.

“The king is coming,” he hissed at Raine, still keeping his eyes on Lessia.

Merrick cursed to himself when she also stiffened, something flickering within her eyes that he’d never seen before.

At his words, she stepped around Ardow, that damned sword in her hands dragging against the wooden planks once more, the rasping sound rumbling through Merrick.

He quickly abandoned the spot he’d stood in, which would have ensured he was first to meet the approaching Fae, to get to her side, and he had to stop himself from lecturing her when she hissed at him as he gently nudged her behind him.

She was injured, he reminded himself—it was not the time for brooding , as she liked to call it.

Instead he leaned in and whispered, “ Please . I nearly lost my mind the past few days, so please allow me to be an overprotective bastard. Just today.”

Her eyes glimmered when he used Amalise’s words, and warmth spread within his chest when something akin to a low laugh rasped through her throat.

Metallic sounds joined the approaching feet, and the air became heavy with the flickerings of magic, the scent of smoke joining it as the wind whirled around them.

Ardow eyed them as he stalked forward, taking up a spot slightly behind Raine, who came forward to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with Merrick.

Nudging Lessia a bit farther back, Merrick finally unsheathed his sword, keeping a loose grip on his magic as a group of guards rounded the corner, the king’s gilded crown reflecting the sun where he walked in the middle.