Page 35 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

But a strange sensation filled her, like she was full of energy, like it was racing across her skin.

And for the first time in a while, she felt…warm.

“Lessia.” Merrick’s voice became more demanding.

Power.

It was power.

This is what that felt like, she thought as she played with the golden rope, savoring the warmth filling her chest and dancing through every vein and limb.

She was holding so many lives in her hands. Lives that she could tell what to do, that she could control, that she could lead.

“Lessia!”

A surge shot through the darkness, and she blinked, turning her head toward the ball of light she’d eyed before.

It was telling her something.

Open your eyes.

It’s enough now.

But was it enough?

She was always weak, always the one beaten down.

The one tortured. The one hurt. The one cast away.

It’s enough for now, my little fighter.

She blinked at the light again, and Merrick’s love brushed her skin, replacing the powerful heat with his scorching one.

Lessia shook her head as an urge to walk to his light overcame her, but it was the thought that if she could compel the wyverns like this… she could do it to Merrick, too, that finally had her eyes fly open.

Even with the sun above them, it wasn’t as bright as Merrick’s light had been in her mind, but she still had to bat her eyelids a few times to take in the scene before her.

Wyverns of all colors and sizes floated in the water ahead of them. Behind them. To their sides.

Some of the larger ones had their wings displayed—which she’d learned from Ydren was a sign of warning to an enemy, a sign they could attack at any moment.

Maybe she should have asked the wyverns not to kill them as well.

But as the thought struck her, she realized she could still feel their minds, and when she blinked… she could see it so clearly—she would be able to control them even now.

A large golden wyvern let out a screech that had Merrick pull her against his chest, his sword flying out before them, and from the metallic sound to her right, Raine was also readying himself.

“That’s a lot of fucking wyverns,” Raine muttered.

“It’s fine.” Lessia gently shoved at Merrick’s arm. “They won’t hurt us.”

He didn’t seem so sure, but as he always did—as he always would do—he released her, and Lessia cast a quick look at their group before she approached the railing.

Frelina’s face was white, that greenish hint still present in her cheeks.

Raine seemed focused—his square jaw set as he kept Frelina behind him, his curved blades crossed before them.

Merrick appeared furious, and she almost had to bite back a smile when his black eyes roved over every single wyvern as if he was figuring out where his sword would hurt the most.

Ydren hovered so close to their ship she might have overturned it if she got even an inch closer, and Lessia shot her a wave as she approached the bow, glad that it seemed the wyvern understood, as she swam to stay by Lessia’s side.

Squeezing Merrick’s hand, Lessia pulled him with her as she stepped up all the way to the railing, focusing her eyes on the large golden one who hadn’t stopped glaring at her, and making sure none of the wyverns eyeing Ydren dared inch closer.

“Will you understand me if I speak out loud?”

Lessia’s voice cut through the warm air as if it were filled with ice.

The golden wyvern stretched its wings wide, and she fought for her life not to take a step back at the displeasure in its eyes. “Of course we’ll understand you, Elessia Rantzier. We’re not animals.”

From Merrick’s harsh exhale, she realized she wasn’t the only one who heard them now.

“I didn’t mean to offend you.” She had no idea how to address the wyverns, but most people and creatures liked to be approached respectfully, so she lowered her chin in a small bow. “May you tell me your name?”

“If you wanted to respect us, you shouldn’t have compelled us, princess.” The wyvern shook his head wildly. “Your gift is dangerous, and like your ancestors, you wield it too carelessly.”

“I…” she started when Merrick snarled, “She wields it with more care than you could ever imagine. She just needed you to fucking listen instead of doing whatever it was you were doing.”

Merrick continued under his breath. “Don’t you dare apologize. You have not done anything wrong.”

Lessia could sense that he truly believed it—that he was proud of her for what she’d done—and she squared her shoulders as she continued.

“Death Whisperer. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.

” Some of the wyverns around the golden one shifted when the beast spoke Merrick’s nickname.

“We’ve heard the stories about you, of course.

But some of us also fought beside you and your brethren.

You were kind then, kinder to us than most of the Fae. ”

Merrick didn’t respond, and it was quiet for so long that unease crawled across her skin.

“Tell us your name,” she demanded when Merrick and the golden wyvern appeared locked in a silent battle of the eyes, the glares radiating from each chilling the air around them.

“I am Auphore, young one. The father of all wyverns alive today.”

Her eyes flew across the probably hundreds of wyverns that surrounded them—wyverns of every color she could imagine: blue, green, yellow, a few violets like Ydren, and even some white and black ones.

When her eyes returned to Auphore, something gleamed in his eyes, and she decided not to ask what had been on the tip of her tongue.

It didn’t matter anyway.

“You already know who I am, and I am guessing you know why I am here.” Lessia held her breath in the thick silence that followed, and she was wondering if she would have to repeat herself when Raine’s flask being unscrewed broke the silence, and all heads turned his way.

The red-haired Fae didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. He only raised his flask to the golden wyvern staring at him and ordered, “Answer her, you old bastard. She is one of the good ones.”

“Mind Capturer. Can’t say I missed you.” Auphore actually rolled his eyes when Raine sipped some of his beloved liquor.

“Enough,” Lessia snarled when Raine seemed about to spew something back at the beast. “We don’t have time for this back-and-forth. I’ve come to ask you to join me in one last fight for Havlands. We will go up against Rioner and the Fae on his side, and… we need you.”

“ We need you ,” Auphore echoed. “You Fae always need us , but somehow we never need you.”

“I know,” Lessia responded, and she could tell Auphore was surprised by how his head cocked, golden eyes widening at the corners.

“The Fae have used and abused you—abused what was supposed to be a sacred bond. I will not do that. I only used my magic to get you to listen, and if you say no… I will respect that. But I beg you, please consider helping us one final time.”

“You forget we feel you too. We felt that rush of power boil through you, princess of Vastala. It felt good, didn’t it? Not to be weak. It’s how we know you must have tricked the stone. You can force us to help you, taking away the one thing we always had. Choice.”

“I. Am. No. Princess. I seek no power. And I would never take away your choice. Never!” She hated how her lip trembled at the end, but Auphore was getting too close to her own frustrations.

She was the one without a choice.

“The stone chose her,” Merrick growled. “It was for a fucking reason it chose her—chose anyone!—for the first time in centuries. If Rioner and the others win, they’ll come for you. He doesn’t like having enemies—albeit enemies in hiding—anywhere in the world. He’ll kill every last one of you.”

Ydren let out a soft whimper, and on reflex, Lessia stretched out her hand to place it on the wyvern’s snout.

Ydren didn’t like this, either, and Lessia could tell it unsettled her, being this close to her own species—the sense of not belonging anywhere radiated from the creature right into Lessia’s heart.

“Who is that?” Auphore demanded. “Who are you, young wyvern?”

“Her name is Ydren,” Lessia answered when Ydren refused to even look his way, the younger wyvern shaking so hard the water around the ship was disturbed.

“I saved her,” Raine added. “Her mother and family were captured in the last war, and a group of shifters killed them. I was able to get Ydren out, and she’s been staying with me ever since.”

Auphore didn’t look at Raine as he spoke again. “But you’ve chosen her ? Answer me, young one!”

One nod was what Ydren gave him, and Lessia moved closer to her, not fully understanding what You’ve chosen her meant, but feeling some type of way all the same.

“Why? Why her?” Auphore began swimming closer before Lessia ordered “Stop!” as she pulled at the gilded thread she could still feel whispering between her fingers.

“You will not hurt her, or any of the others here.” Lessia didn’t recognize her voice as the words left her lips.

It was cold and demanding and… sounded all too similar to her uncle’s.

Auphore’s eyes went between her and the violet wyvern, his maw opening and closing the same way his leathery wings did.

Merrick made a move to say something, but Lessia placed her other hand on his arm and shook her head. She didn’t know why, but she could feel that Auphore needed the time.

Her eyes flicked to Frelina and Raine, and they seemed to understand what she wanted as well, moving their gazes to watch the group of wyverns around them instead.

Lessia counted her heartbeats while she waited.

Thud.

Thud-thud.

Thud.

She’d counted all the way to a thousand when Auphore finally spoke again.

“For the young one, we will come as witnesses.”

Her brows furrowed as she lifted her gaze to the wyvern elder. “What does that mean?”

“If you allow Ydren to come back to her family, we will come to the battle. We will stand behind your army, every single one of us. But we will not fight.”

“You…” Merrick seethed, but Lessia squeezed his arm again.

“Thank you,” she said quickly.

She’d take it. Rioner wouldn’t know the wyverns weren’t going to fight, and it might scare enough of his people that they could take out the others.

Lessia shot Ydren a quick look when a strangled, sorrow-filled sound vibrated in her long throat. “But Ydren decides for herself if she wants to go. If she wants to stay with us after—that is up to her.”

“We would never force her. We just want our family together. You, out of anyone, should understand.” Auphore bowed his head for a moment before whipping it back forcefully, and by the way the wyverns dispersed, Lessia guessed it was some kind of order to leave.

“I heard you’re heading to the Lakes of Mirrors.

May I suggest Ydren stays with us for that? It’s quite… uncomfortable over there.”

Lessia tried to ignore the urge to ask if she could also stay—hide under the protection of these beasts forever.

After a look at the others, she knew it was pointless to try to convince any of them to stay back, so with a soft sigh, she responded. “Yes. We’ll return as soon as we can.”

Auphore hesitated for a second before doing that head throw again. “If you survive.”