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

Merrick

O ne day.

One fucking day without her and he was losing his mind.

Merrick paced back and forth on the deck of Loche’s ship, the one Raine had dragged him onto when he’d refused to stop trying to beat the regent into carrion in the cabin beneath.

Glaring at the wild sea crashing around the ship that Elessia’s friends had sailed in on to pick them all up from the water, he tried not to imagine what the king was doing to his mate right this moment.

But it proved futile when images of the first time he’d seen her forced themselves into his thoughts.

Her pale and too-thin body lying on that dirty stone floor beneath the king.

The shaking voice begging for it all to end.

Her unseeing eyes when she swore the blood oath to Rioner.

Fuck!

He’d thought the pain he felt when he realized what she was would be the worst he’d experience.

It had nearly killed him to follow the king’s orders.

But now?

Now that he knew her?

When he truly knew who she was—that she was his?

His to save.

His to protect.

His to love.

Merrick cursed again, stepping up to the railing and digging his fingers into it so hard that chunks of wood crumbled under his palms.

He would rip the flesh from the king’s bones like he did this wood for what he’d done to her.

“No more. Please no more,” Elessia had begged that first day he’d seen her, and Merrick wouldn’t stop until the king did the same.

Until he fucking kissed his feet, begging for mercy.

And then…

He’d unleash the souls that always pressed all around him.

He would let them rip into the king—bring him over to their side of the veil or whatever it was he could open and close between their worlds—and continue the torture there forever.

Merrick hadn’t missed the thirst for revenge in some of them, the hunger when they beheld the king, whispering what they’d like to do to him.

An exceptionally tall wave hit the side of the vessel, splashing small drops of salty water onto his face, and he was about to curse again—curse the fucking seas for daring to still exist when Elessia must be hurting—when something flickered within him.

Holding his breath, he froze, trying to sense it once more.

There. The fragile thread that used to shimmer in gold like Elessia’s eyes when her magic surfaced now sputtered like an almost burned-out candle.

But it was there.

She was alive.

And she was fighting.

Merrick didn’t know how, but he could feel it.

His little fighter.

The woman who’d been through so much—too much—in her young life, but who refused to give up. Who believed in him even after everything he’d done. Who believed in the good in all the world even after everything it had done to her.

The good Merrick had thought to be long gone until he watched her fight for a better life.

Until he’d watched her save those Faelings, watched her find friends, watched her build a life, and watched her… fall in love.

He knew Elessia believed he’d been hurting for years because of the mate bond…

But he hadn’t.

He hadn’t been happy—it’d been long since he’d felt happiness, until the past few weeks—but he’d been content seeing her find purpose, find comfort, even find love.

Still, knowing now what it felt like to give in.

To claim her.

To call her his…

He understood why Raine never regretted meeting Solana, even if he now had to live without her.

Merrick would have stiffened at the slow footsteps sounding behind him if he hadn’t smelled the stench of alcohol that constantly whirled around Raine.

“The drinking helps.” Raine waved a flask his way as he leaned against the railing beside him. “You’ll see.”

“No,” Merrick mumbled. “I need a clear head to find her.”

Raine nodded, his eyes shifted out across the dark sea. “The human—Amalise—is making some food. It didn’t smell too good, but it’ll be hot.”

Food…

As if he could eat anything when Elessia…

“You need strength, too, Merrick. I’ve heard those whispers all day—you’ll be drained soon.” Raine moved so he faced him. “Remember what happens…”

Fighting not to roll his eyes or give in to the urge to slam his fist into Raine’s face to relieve some of the tension coiling his muscles, Merrick thought about the last time his energy ran out.

It’d been after he was forced to torture her.

The worst fucking day of his life.

Hearing her ribs break…

He ripped another chunk from the railing and threw it into the sea.

He’d nearly died that night.

Would have happily gone if it hadn’t been for Elessia and what he knew she’d still have to face.

Not just with the king but the rebels… and the fucking Oakgards’ Fae.

He’d been drained before, of course.

But it had been centuries before that night.

He’d learned quickly that if his magic drained him, it wasn’t like it was for other Fae, where they just couldn’t access their gifts.

Of course it fucking wasn’t.

Merrick’s gift—those damned souls whispering to him—tried to claim him and take control over him whenever he wasn’t strong enough to resist them. Tried to pull him over to their side and tried to rip that thread that separated their worlds apart, so they could come and go as they liked.

He wasn’t certain what would actually happen if he died.

Perhaps they’d go with him.

Or they’d run free.

Not that he’d care, if Elessia…

Merrick shook his head.

She was alive, and he’d ensure she stayed that way.

“Fine.” Merrick glared at Raine, responding to his earlier suggestion. “I’ll eat. Then we need to find her.”

“Do you feel… Is she…” Raine winced.

“She’s alive,” Merrick snapped.

She was. That he was certain of.

“Good.” Raine gave him a weak smile. “We’ll find her. And that little sister of hers.”

Merrick didn’t miss the shadow of guilt that crept across Raine’s face at the mention of Frelina.

Not that it had been his fault.

None of them could have known what Meyah was planning.

Still, although he probably should have, Merrick didn’t offer him any encouraging words.

It was good that he felt guilty—then he’d also have some urgency to find them.

Raine’s narrowed eyes told him he knew precisely what Merrick was thinking, but he didn’t say anything as they walked into the dimly lit cabin.

The low murmurs quieted as Merrick’s foot landed on the wooden floor, the squeaking of the planks seemingly echoing across the cramped room.

To his left, a few foul-smelling cots stood, and atop them sat the sisters who’d saved them back in the cabin in that damn forest on Asker.

Venko was perched on his own bed beside them, and the merchant briefly met his eyes as Merrick walked farther into the room.

Those blues of his still held some fear—even after all the weeks they’d spent together—and when Merrick curled his lip back, Venko quickly averted his eyes to the clasped hands in his lap.

Merrick would have snickered if there was any humor left in the world.

He could smell the loathing from Loche even before those steel eyes met his own, and his lip lifted farther, letting his teeth rasp against his bottom lip.

The regent openly glared at him from where he sat watching Ardow and Amalise cooking something whose musty smell permeated the entire square room.

“Watch it, human,” Merrick purred when Loche grumbled something under his breath. “I wanted to kill you before all of this happened. Now… it might just be a necessity.”

“Merrick,” Raine warned. “She won’t like it.”

He’s right.

Merrick jerked when her voice rang in his mind, as clear as if she’d been right there, and the raspy sound of it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever heard.

She wouldn’t like it if he killed Loche.

He couldn’t read her mind, but he knew she still cared for the dumb human, and he wouldn’t hurt her. Never again.

She’d told him she would never deny him anything.

And neither would he her.

“Fine,” he finally muttered. “I won’t kill you.”

When Loche smirked at him, one of those smiles the regent deserved to get his teeth knocked out from, Merrick added “yet” under his breath.

Perhaps Elessia would tire of his smug smiles and searching eyes.

If so, Merrick would be ready.

“No one is killing anyone.” The guard who had trailed Loche during the election—Zaddock, Merrick seemed to remember—stepped out from the small bathing chamber, where he must have dunked his hair in the only bucket, judging from the drops of water running down his leather tunic. “At least no one in this room.”

“Z, you’re ever so grumpy now.” Loche leaned back in his chair, his hands resting behind his head. “You seem a little frustrated… What happened those weeks in the cave?”

A plate clattered to the ground, and when Amalise bent to pick it up, it was impossible to miss her reddened cheeks and the sour look she cast at the regent.

Ardow appeared to have caught his friend’s discomfort as well, as he quickly broke in, “Let’s just eat, and then we can argue.”

No one seemed to disagree because when Ardow and Amalise set out the plates on the table for Raine, Loche, Zaddock, and Merrick, it remained entirely quiet.

Ardow brought four bowls with him to the cots, and when he sat down next to Venko, the sisters began a hushed conversation, but as Merrick—very unfortunately—was coming to know, a never-ending torrent of words spilled from their mouths, reverberating softly through the entire room.

Blocking them out, he focused on the blonde woman who’d slipped onto the chair by his side, much to Zaddock’s dismay, from the open glares he shot across the table.

“So you’re with Lessia now?”

Merrick nearly choked on the piece of bread he’d popped into his mouth at the openly hostile tone, the fierce blue eyes, and the lifted chin of the human beside him.

She didn’t seem frightened of him.

At all.

“Well?” Amalise tapped her spoon against the bowl.

“I am.” Merrick stared right back at her. “She is mine, and I am hers.”

“So you’re going to get her back?” Amalise raised her chin another inch.