Page 25 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

Merrick

M errick had to physically restrain himself from whirling around and taking her somewhere he could protect her, distracting her forever, when he heard Lessia’s soft sobs as she bid Amalise, Ardow, and the rest goodbye before her friends returned to Loche’s ship.

While Lessia, her sister, Kerym, and Thissian were still injured, all of them needing rest, ideally for a long, long time… there wasn’t any time left.

The threat of the rebels hung over the group like a heavy storm cloud, and he noticed several hunched shoulders amongst the group as they settled onto the respective ships: Venko’s worried face even as he reunited with Ardow; the guard Zaddock’s constant hovering around Amalise, and the hand he kept on his sword, ready for an attack at any moment; Loche’s worried gaze flitting to the north ever so often—filled with unease for his nation, which lay there.

Even those talkative sisters were quiet, although he did notice Pellie throw some suggestive comments Kerym’s way and the Fae responding in kind, albeit in a more subdued way than his friend usually spoke.

Merrick nodded to the dark-haired Fae brothers as they walked over to the regent’s ship, but when he caught Thissian’s eyes, he quickly looked away. In his blues swam a mixture of sorrow, fear, and pity as they flicked between himself and his mate.

A shudder racked the Death Whisperer’s shoulders.

Thissian had never been one to hide his feelings.

He’d openly wept on the battlefields when they were younger, disregarding how their commanders would sneer about it, because of how much he hated the waste that wartime death was.

He’d been seen as the weakest of the four of them for it, but Merrick wasn’t convinced that was true.

To allow yourself to feel that utterly and completely…

Merrick shook his head.

Brave.

That’s what it was.

Brave and strong.

He allowed himself a glance toward Lessia, eyeing her when she pulled Frelina close and quickly lowered her shoulders when her sister stared unseeing out across the others leaving—falling right into the older-sibling role she must have played growing up—and wondered for a moment if he’d be able to be as strong as Thissian.

Because right now…

Right now, he felt like begging Raine for one of his flasks and drowning himself in it as that burning sensation that had become worryingly familiar rose behind his eyes again.

He couldn’t lose her.

He just… he fucking couldn’t.

He’d promised to keep her safe. He’d promised to always be there—be whatever she needed him to be.

A protector.

A friend.

A trainer.

A lover.

Merrick pushed the urge for liquor and sweet oblivion away.

He’d need to be strong for her. Only for her. Continue fighting like Lessia had promised him she would.

For as long as she breathed, he’d take all the pain in the world. Fuck, he’d take hers as well if he could. But if she didn’t breathe anymore… He ground his teeth when the souls around him roiled in fury.

“Death… Ah… Merrick, a-a word?” The Fae soldier sprang backward when Merrick spun around to face him, and his face whitened as he lifted his hands, fire sparking from his fingers—probably in response to Merrick’s magic flickering in the air.

Merrick deliberately moved his gaze to the male’s hands, wondering whether the decision to save him had been hasty, when the Fae spoke again, the sparks fading.

“I apologize.” He jerked when Merrick’s eyes landed back on his, but he didn’t take another step backward. Instead the Fae straightened, trying to lift his chin.

He was young, Merrick realized as he observed him. Very young.

Barely older than a Faeling—perhaps thirty or maybe forty years old.

Still, Merrick didn’t have it in him to be soft. Not right now.

Not when he needed to save whatever warmth there was in him for Lessia.

So he raised a brow when the Fae only opened and closed his mouth, and demanded, “Yes?”

The Fae’s swallow echoed between them before he finally spoke again. “My name is Cedar Reinsdor, and I… I just wanted to say I am forever in your and your mate’s debt.”

Merrick froze, eyes flying across the Fae before him.

“You’re not… Dedrick’s son, are you?” Merrick took a step closer to the Fae, pretending not to notice how the younger one couldn’t stop himself from shrinking back again even as he nodded.

“I-I am.”

“How the fuck did you end up here?” Merrick frowned as he eyed the expensive clothing the Fae was clad in and the bejeweled sword and dagger hanging by his waist—so much more elaborate than his own… than the dagger he’d gifted Lessia.

He should have noticed it before—only the noble Fae could afford such extravagant weapons, and the clothing… It was something one was more likely to see in Rioner’s castle’s vast halls than on a warship in the middle of the Eiatis Sea.

And the Reinsdors… They were one of the oldest and most powerful noble families.

“I… My father owed the king a debt.” Cedar’s long blond hair fell into his eyes as he bowed his head. “Rioner… he wouldn’t settle for anything else but my utmost loyalty to him.”

Merrick flicked one of his teeth with his tongue, trying not to show the rage that burned so hot within him that he was surprised he didn’t burst into flames.

Of course Rioner had wanted this male.

His flames were truly magnificent, and the king couldn’t have someone like that on the loose…

Like with Merrick, Lessia, and most of the others blood-sworn to the king, his gift posed a threat to the king himself.

Merrick’s whispers whipped the air—the oily vibrations from them sharpening with every moment he thought of the damned king.

Rioner needed to die.

A slow, painful fucking death where he was alive until the very last drop of his blood was drained from his body. Suffering. Suffering in the way he’d made Vastala and its people suffer.

Merrick had heard stories from other realms of bloodsucking monsters hidden within facades as beautiful as the Fae’s bodies.

How he wished they had time to go in search of one of them.

The whispered legends told by far-traveling Fae spoke of these monsters being able to deliver the most gruesome deaths.

Not that that would be enough for the king. He deserved to die again and again and again—reliving the pain and fury of those he’d hurt for several lifetimes.

That’s what the souls he now struggled to keep leashed whispered of.

Merrick’s eyes focused when the Fae before him let out a straggling rush of air, but that rage within him still reigned, drowning all other emotions.

It wasn’t until a small bandaged hand slipped into his that he could snap out of it.

Merrick’s eyes drew to Lessia’s when she sidled up beside him, and he didn’t know why he was surprised when she offered him only a small smile and a press of her injured fingers instead of wide, fearful eyes.

She’s strong enough now.

The souls whispered the words to him as they huddled around Lessia, not in the threatening way they did around others, not anymore, but protective, as if they knew should anything happen to her, their own fate was uncertain.

She was meant for you. For us.

Lessia smiled wider, almost as if she heard them, before she moved her eyes to the cowering Fae.

“I’m Lessia,” she offered softly. “And I heard you’re Cedar. I believe our”—she swallowed before continuing—“fathers were friends.”

Cedar offered her a shaky nod. “I… I’ve known Alarin since I was a child. I’m s-so sorry for your loss. And… I also wanted to say… thank you for what you did for me. I… I am in your debt.”

A trembling breath made its way down Lessia’s lungs before she appeared to catch herself—catch herself in a way Merrick wished she’d never had to learn, hiding the pain and the sorrow and the guilt somewhere deep within her broken body.

“Thank you.” Lessia stepped closer to Merrick, and despite everything, warmth clawed into his chest when he realized it seemed to steady her.

“You are not in my debt.” Lessia drew another breath before continuing. “Saving you is what any decent person would have done. But…”

Lessia cast Merrick a quick look before continuing, and his brows knitted when he tried to understand the feeling within her.

Guilt and sadness, yes. But also… purpose.

It was purpose, he decided, that drove what she said next.

“But still, I want to ask a favor.” Lessia waited until Cedar nodded. “I need you to return to Vastala. I know it’s probably the last thing you want to do, especially now, being free of Rioner. Trust us… We know.”

Merrick clasped her closer when she shot him another glance.

Gods, he fucking loved her.

He didn’t know how it was possible that he loved her even more every day.

But right now? It felt as if his chest would combust from pride.

She was… a leader.

He’d seen it in her before—it was one of the reasons he had trained her, after all, to ensure she could protect herself when she stepped into what he knew must be her destiny.

But now? It was so clear to him.

This beautiful, strong, kind, loyal, and gentle soul would be the one who saved their world. And he’d be right by her damned side while she did it.

“We need some of the Fae to see our side,” Lessia continued after folding an arm around Merrick’s waist, drumming up heat within him like she always did any time she touched him.

“Loche and the others will take on the rebels and prepare Ellow the best they can. We will get the wyverns to fight. But we need you to convince your father to join us.”

Cedar’s mouth fell open as Lessia reached out a broken hand, sweeping it across the group that had gathered on the other ship, waiting only for Cedar to join them.

Raine and Frelina slowly approached, and Merrick only caught his friend’s gaze out of the corner of his eye, but he still noticed the glimmer of admiration in it as it flicked to his mate.

“These humans, Fae and half-Fae, are the only thing standing between a Havlands ruled by cruel and twisted men and women, and a new world—a world where debts aren’t paid in blood or children left to die in the streets.

While I’ll never force anyone to join us—not like the ones we stand against—I ask you to please do this.

Please be a part of this. Please stand with us. ”

Merrick had to catch himself not to let his own mouth draw down like the Fae’s before him, and he couldn’t help but move to stand behind Lessia, folding his arms around her and whispering how fucking proud he was of her into her ear until those goose bumps he loved peppered her neck.

When he finally lifted his gaze, Cedar had managed to snap his gaping lips shut.

But his voice still wavered as he responded, “I will. I will do anything I can to help. I am certain that when I tell my father what you did for me, he’ll want to stand with you, but I don’t know what that will help?”

Merrick really tried to stop letting his lips drag across the soft skin of Lessia’s neck when she spoke, but having her this close… breathing her in…

He couldn’t fucking help himself.

And she didn’t push him away—on the contrary, she leaned into his touch—so he hoped she didn’t give a shit, either, that they were surrounded by so many people.

“Your father,” Lessia started, but she had to clear her throat as her voice became breathy, and Merrick knew it wasn’t particularly mature, but more pride swelled within him when he sensed some of her pain dull, heat stroking its way within her like it did in himself.

“Your father,” Lessia tried again. “He has power over the other noble families. I need him to convince as many of them as he can not to fight. Ideally, they would join us, but I realize it might prove too much of a challenge, so I ask only that they do not fight in Rioner’s war.

He lost today… and I have a feeling he will do anything in his power not to repeat what happened here.

He will ask the Vastala Fae to join the Oakgards’ Fae’s fight to take down Ellow.

So please… please help us convince them not to. ”

The silence stretching out across both ships as Lessia’s words sank into frightened minds roared louder than the wind. While the thought had already crossed Merrick’s mind, he had to clutch Lessia tighter as the reality of her words settled within him.

There would be war.

In only a few weeks, there would be bloodshed and death and pain, and Lessia would be right in the middle of it.

“I will do whatever I can.” Cedar drew back his shoulders. “I will go straight there.”

“Thank you.” Lessia touched his hand with her broken one. “Loche has promised to take you as far as he can.”

Cedar bowed to her before he backed away. Actually bowed in the way Fae bowed only to their monarchs, and another one of those waves of pride washed over Merrick.

Lessia was born for this.

She might not believe it, but she was born to be a queen, and even though she might never take on the title—wear the crown her Rantzier blood entitled her—she would always be his queen.

He’d fall to his knees before her any day.

Worship her in the way she deserved.

Follow her every command.

When Cedar reached the other ship and they pulled up their brow, Lessia spun in Merrick’s arms, and as she wrapped her own around him, lifting her face to his, he could see she needed to be alone.

Needed to not be the leader.

The sister.

The friend.

The…

He frowned as she continued to stare into his eyes, trying to read the many emotions tangled within her.

No, she didn’t need to be alone. Not entirely. Despite everything, he smiled at her.

She needed him .

She wanted him .

And since she was everything he needed in the world—more than air, water, or food—he wasn’t about to waste a single second as Loche’s ship lifted its sails and began weaving its way through the waves.

Ignoring Raine and Frelina, Merrick swept Lessia up, cradling her to his chest, and took the few steps to the door leading down to the sleeper cabins on Rioner’s ship as quickly as he could.

As he swung the door open, he turned his head and hissed, “Don’t you fucking dare come down here,” before stalking through it and letting it slam behind them.