Page 34 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

Lessia

L essia still held on to Merrick as the mist parted ahead, the white no longer trailing down Ydren’s violet scales as she remained close to their ship, the low hums in her throat echoing around them as she led the way when the fog faded, until it evaporated entirely, revealing a crystal-blue sea filled with large rock formations jutting high above the water.

Despite the warm wind wrapping around them, snow covered the highest peaks towering over the sea, and Lessia frowned as the scent of winter and summer tangling filled her nose.

She could sense Merrick’s muscles coiling under the tunic he’d found—the one that was slightly too small but which she’d never complain about seeing him in, as she could watch every ripple playing beneath it—his entire being reacting to the strange sensations around them.

Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed Raine approaching them until he stood next to her sister, his massive body so large compared to Frelina’s, Lessia took a step closer to her sister, even if she knew Raine wasn’t a threat to her.

Merrick stepped with her, and she shot him a quick smile before facing forward again, keeping an eye on Ydren, who appeared nervous, her maw twitching as she whipped her head back and forth.

Then their ship halted so abruptly that they all had to grip the railing not to fall.

“Did we hit something?” Raine hissed.

“No,” Merrick said in that low voice that used to terrify her. “Something swam into us.”

Ydren let out a squeaking sound before she moved backward, and it was their only warning before the vessel heeled sharply, then slammed back down into the sea.

Merrick dragged her to him, one of his hands locking around her waist as he planted his feet, while the other found his sword.

Lessia shakily unsheathed her ruby-decorated dagger as well—trying not to think about how they hadn’t been able to find the one her father had given her, the one with amber stones to mirror her eyes—but when Merrick’s grip on her tightened for a second, she knew he’d felt that quick sweep of sadness that washed over her.

She was grateful when Raine pushed Frelina behind him, his curved blades glimmering in the sun, which now hung high above them.

Frelina hadn’t wanted to train with weapons when the rest of them had done so on that ship to Ellow a few weeks back, and while the Fae males had tried to convince her, they’d stopped when Lessia had snarled at them.

She’d seen the way Frelina had stared at her daggers, and she suspected that was how Frelina had killed those soldiers who had found their island when her father had been too distraught over their mother’s sickness.

A strange sound began thrumming around them, and Lessia pushed aside all other thoughts, apart from staying alive.

Just one more day.

Just a little bit longer.

Vivid colors—as if a rainbow had fallen from the sky and now began spinning around their ship—appeared before her eyes, and even though she blinked, she couldn’t make out any shapes, the movements of whatever was swimming in the water around them too fast even for her Fae eyes.

She guessed it was the same for Merrick and Raine, given the vicious rumblings starting in their chests, and when Merrick bent down to press his lips against hers—feverishly, harshly—she knew they were as worried as she was becoming.

Goose bumps peppered her body as she tried to keep her head steady, something inside her warning her not to lose focus, but when Ydren let out a scared sound—one that pierced Lessia’s heart like an arrow—she whipped it around.

It was as if she walked into a wall of nausea, and she brought her free hand to her mouth at the same time as Merrick pressed her harder against his quivering body.

“Don’t let them get to you,” he warned. “They’re trying to confuse us.”

Lessia started to nod but froze when that voice—the one that sounded like Merrick’s but also didn’t—echoed in the air as the colors began spinning even faster.

We’re here now, princess of Vastala, but you don’t seem to have anything to say.

It switched to her sister’s voice.

And you brought one of us. Where did she come from?

“Stop using their voices,” Lessia snarled. “And stop whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Who are you talking to?” Frelina asked, her voice breaking up as Raine dragged her closer to him.

“Maybe she’s finally lost it,” Raine mumbled when Lessia hesitated, but he quickly snapped his mouth shut when Merrick growled in warning.

“It’s the wyverns,” Lessia said softly as she tried to listen for those voices again.

It was strange how she heard them. It wasn’t like they were in her mind, but… like they were in another’s.

She didn’t read minds, though…

She’s figuring it out. The soul stone…

Hush! The fake Merrick voice filled with anger.

A sharp light shot from Lessia’s arm—the one the stone had merged with—and she realized from the gasps leaving Raine and Frelina that even though the rest couldn’t hear the voices, they, too, could see the glow.

Merrick only seemed to stiffen further, his grip on her tightening so much she might have complained had they been in another situation.

“The soul stone…” she whispered to herself, feeling that flicker in the air again—the one she’d felt in the white mist.

Fear. Worry. Anger.

“I feel them,” Lessia said. “I hear them and I feel them.”

We felt you everywhere. Heard and saw and learned everything about you.

“You hear and see and feel me too,” she mumbled.

Her mind went to the conversation she’d had with Merrick that first night they had together.

“I feel your emotions.” That’s what he’d told her when she thought he’d read her mind, but he’d only felt her emotions because of the mate bond.

“We’re soul-bonded,” Lessia exclaimed.

“What are you talking about?” Frelina’s head had begun snapping back and forth despite Raine holding on to her, and her sister’s skin color had faded from a soft glow to a green hue.

“You feel them.” Merrick leaned down, his stubble brushing her cheek as he stared out across the water, where those colors still revolved like a vibrant rope around the ship, and she realized he was catching on. “You hear them.”

They weren’t questions.

“You should be able to see them.”

Glancing up at him, she realized he didn’t mean to actually see them, not with her eyes.

She’d been able to compel Raine and Kerym in her mind when they tied their own to it, so if the wyvern’s souls were bound to hers and they could hear what she was thinking like the mind-reading Fae… that meant their minds were linked, didn’t it?

It was at least worth a try.

“Hold on to me?” She didn’t mean for it to come out so soft, but those voices—how they tried to mimic her loved ones—unsettled her.

“Always.” Merrick held her gaze until she couldn’t bear it, until she realized there was no way he’d live on and live the dreams she’d hoped might convince him.

Closing her eyes, she focused her gaze inward until the sounds around her muted. Until she didn’t feel the wind or the occasional splash of salt water brought by the sea. Until Merrick’s arm around her waist was the only thing she could feel.

Her mind was dark, but it wasn’t the darkness of Rioner’s cellars.

It didn’t have the desperation to it.

It was sadness. It was sorrow. It was grief.

It was… her emotions.

But as she looked around, truly made herself look at every dark swirl, she noticed things within the darkness.

A bright light shone ahead, and it looked like the stone Loche had pressed into her hand—the one that now lived within her—and she almost took a step toward it when she realized.

It wasn’t the wyvern’s light. This one… It belonged to another.

A silver-haired, feared Fae warrior. One who lit fires and lanterns and set her own body and mind alight, driving away even the most unfathomable darkness.

She could taste the love wafting from the sparkling ball.

His and hers combined. Wildness and kindness and loyalty and passion and acceptance. Lessia couldn’t help but smile as it sparked brighter when she stayed in that feeling for a moment.

Gods, she loved him so much.

More light poured out of the ball.

I love you too, it seemed to say.

She wished she could stay there—stay in all that warmth and love and pain-free space—but there wasn’t time. Tearing her eyes away, which was much harder than she liked to admit, Lessia scanned the rest of the space.

There was another light. One that was filled with many, almost like a bundle of threads of different colors with a more muted glow. One in particular stood out—a violet thread shining brighter than the others—one that was part of them, but also wasn’t. One that was more part of herself.

“Ydren,” she whispered, and was rewarded with a slow roll of the thread, almost as if the wyvern heard her.

Another thread also caught her eye. It was golden, thicker than the others, and also appeared to be connected to them all, even Ydren.

After hesitantly walking up to it, Lessia hovered her hand over the bundle.

It purred, almost like a feline, the threads vibrating against each other, and that strange feeling whirled around her—the tangle of emotions so intense she couldn’t pick out just one.

“I guess this is it.” Lessia aimed for the golden thread, letting her fingers wrap around it.

Her body jerked upright immediately.

Golden eyes set in a large face covered by golden scales—the color reminding her of old honey, a bit darker than her own molten eyes reflected in them—met hers.

She didn’t hesitate, and she made sure her instructions were more precise this time.

“I want you to show yourselves, and not like you’re doing now. One by one, standing still, please. And I want you to listen to me until I am finished talking.”

The threads around the golden ones vibrated for another second before they all stilled, and voices sounded as if from far away.

“Lessia! You did it!” her sister exclaimed.

“Lessia, enough,” Merrick urged softly.