Page 54 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

Merrick

“ T hey’re at least… passionate.” Kerym bumped his elbow into Merrick’s side as they watched the Faelings practice what Merrick had asked of them.

Merrick hummed, his eyes fixed on the three who would be helpful during this fight.

Two of the Faelings were water wielders, and they seemed used to working with each other, one favoring steering the ocean as it was, while the other would freeze his friend’s waves whenever it pleased him.

The skill would come in handy, especially for the ships taking the lead, whether rebel or Fae.

If these two could stop one or two of them—perhaps even have them collide with some of the others—it would give the others time to prepare their weapons, would give himself, Kerym, Raine, and Thissian time to take out as many as they could before the inevitable physical battle would begin.

The third Faeling, a dark-haired, gray-eyed male who hovered around Lessia whenever she was around, was a wind wielder, and they’d all watched in awe as he managed to move entire ships in the direction he wanted, or blew through a group of Loche’s men so hard they all tumbled to the wood beneath them.

The rest of the Faelings had gifts that either were too unpolished or just wouldn’t be helpful in war—like the white-haired girl Merrick had spotted before but stayed far away from those years he’d followed Lessia around in Ellow.

He believed her name was Kalia, and while she had a strong gift—one that reminded him of Kerym’s and Thissian’s—it wasn’t offensive.

Sure, she could sense all the emotions around her, perhaps even see who was frightened enough that he or she would be a sure kill, but she was getting overwhelmed already.

Merrick had sent her down to Geyia, the shifter Loche was apparently friends with, to help with the food when he’d realized the half-Fae was sensing the fear, worry, tension, and other emotions filling those around them.

“Three is more than we could ask for,” Thissian said softly. “With Raine’s friends coming, too, we’ll be able to stand strong against the rebels.”

Merrick’s eyes traveled to Lessia, who was patting the dark-haired Faeling on the back, smiling at him as she said something.

They would be able to stand against the rebels, but not the Fae. Not when they’d all have used up their magic to keep the rebels at bay, and especially if the Oakgards’ Fae had magic.

He’d heard they could wield all the elements as long as they were connected to that specific element—that they drew power from the world around them—allowing them to continue fueling their energy without food or sleep, like the Fae in Vastala.

“We’ll do what we can, Merrick,” Thissian continued, his eyes following Merrick’s own. “I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“So will I,” Raine said. “I’ll keep her sister with me, and she will prioritize tracking Lessia, since she’s not fighting.”

As if Merrick would let Lessia leave his side. There was a way to save her, and it was up to him to fucking find it—to ensure he made that promise of future a reality.

“They will try to take you out first,” Kerym broke in. “You know this, Merrick. It’s how it always is. You’ll need to keep moving around, use that speed of yours to your advantage.”

Merrick bared his teeth at his friend. “Her life comes first. I am not leaving her.”

“What can you do for her if you die?” Kerym shot back. “Thissian will stay by her. They always underestimate us. Why, I don’t know, since our powers are clearly superior.”

Raine rolled his eyes while Merrick took a step toward Kerym. “I. Will. Not. Leave. Her. There is nothing, fucking nothing, that can stop me from being right by her side.”

Thissian slammed an arm across his brother’s chest when Kerym seemed to ready himself to argue. “Kerym, enough. You wouldn’t have left Mishah if she were here. Elessia is his mate, and he gets to decide what he wants to do.”

Kerym’s chest puffed out under Thissian’s arm, and his voice shook as he snarled, “I know that! But what’s the point if he dies instead?

Shall we welcome her with open arms to our sad little group?

Hey, Lessia. Life without your mate is fucking miserable, apart from the small moments when you get distracted.

But do you know what? It hurts even more after those moments because then you feel so fucking guilty you wish to die as well!

Do you think she wants that, Merrick? Do you think anyone wants that? ”

Merrick stared at his friend, at how a shaking began in his shoulders, then moved to his entire body, and he didn’t miss Thissian’s agony-filled face whitening, his arm falling to his side as if it took too much to keep it up.

Even Raine made a choked sound, his eyes flying to Lessia’s sister, who stormed toward them, eyes wide with fear.

Fear that resounded within Merrick when he found another pair of golden eyes—ones that were far too close and that made his entire being ache with how much worry weighed them down as they swept across his face.

He only glared back at her.

Fuck this. Fuck all this pain and worry and fear.

Merrick snarled so loudly that Frelina backed up, and even his friends took a step back when his magic roiled in the air, the power from it shifting across the ship, quieting those who had watched the Faelings practice.

Only Lessia remained planted in place, her face morphing into a mask of defiance that he knew meant she was about to tell him to fucking listen to his friends.

Which he was definitely not planning on doing.

“Come.” Merrick gripped her hand, forcing down a smile when she squeezed his back in a way that made him believe she wanted it to hurt.

As if she could ever hurt him by touching him. And this… this grip meant that she was angry.

Good. It was good to be angry in war. Better than being afraid. Better than worrying.

“Where are we going?” Lessia hissed when Merrick began dragging her across the deck.

“You and I need to talk.” Merrick’s eyes remained on the steep cliff, the steps leading up to it, and he continued pulling on her hand to make her move faster as he fought against the souls pressing all around him, even under his skin, making his pulse thrum wildly—and not in a fun way.

“Why can’t we just talk here?”

Merrick threw a look over his shoulder and found Lessia frowning at him while his friends, some of Loche’s soldiers, and the Faelings gaped as they watched them get off the ship.

“Because,” Merrick forced out, trying to keep his tone level while his whispers whipped the air around them. “If I stay, I might kill someone, and I don’t think that’d be great for morale, do you?”

Lessia pursed her lips, but she must have realized he meant it because she remained quiet as Merrick lifted her onto the ship behind them and dragged her across that one as well while the soldiers parted, giving them a wide berth, until they reached the gangway leading them to the island.

The isle was rocky and barren and suited Merrick’s fury perfectly.

They stayed quiet as they climbed the steps leading up to the plateau, and it wasn’t until Merrick dragged her to the end of it and sat down with his legs dangling off, making sure Lessia followed, that he began speaking again.

“I know what you’re going to say.” Merrick didn’t look her way even when he felt her eyes move across his face.

He didn’t trust himself not to take her and run if he did.

“But I am doing the fucking best I can,” Merrick continued, hating how angry he sounded and hoping Lessia knew his anger wasn’t directed at her, despite the way it might come across.

“I have said it before. I don’t give one shit about this damned world.

Or about the people down there. Fuck, I don’t give a shit about any of it.

The only thing I care about is sitting right next to me. ”

Lessia’s hand, which he’d let go of as they sat down, found its way into his again as he shuddered.

“I’m not living without you!” Merrick glared so hard at the horizon that it blurred.

“I don’t care that the others can do it, that they might be stronger than I ever will be.

That they might even find some light once in a while.

My purpose in this life was to find you, and I believe also to keep you alive, so that’s the one damned thing I am going to do. This is my fucking choice.”

“Okay.”

“So I am going to fucking—” Merrick’s words drifted off with the wind when he realized she’d spoken.

Okay?

“What did you say?” He had to face her now; he couldn’t not do it, couldn’t not allow himself to savor every moment, every second with her.

“I said okay,” Lessia responded, her eyes falling into his, no defiance, no fight, no fake smile touching them.

“Why?” Merrick stared at her as she shuffled closer on the cliff, sliding one of her legs between his own until she half sat in his lap.

Pressing her nose into his cheek, Lessia whispered, “Because I don’t want to live without you either.”

Well… Fuck.

Merrick’s heart pounded so hard in his chest that he was sure Lessia could hear it.

He’d prepared a whole speech when he stomped up those stairs, as he’d been certain she’d fucking fight for her life for him to change his mind.

“So you’ll stay by me?”

Lessia wove a hand into his hair, dragging her nails down his scalp. “I’ll try.”

“Lessia,” he warned quietly.

“I am also doing the best I can.” Her whisper was sharper now. “I will try. I will fight. I do promise you that. But I cannot see the future, Merrick. I do not know what will happen once we’re in the midst of it all. You’ll have to take it or leave it.”

He ground his teeth, everything in him wanting to demand more of her—order her to promise him everything he wished.

But that wasn’t what he did.

That wasn’t what she wanted.

That wasn’t who they were.

Merrick and Lessia… They were respect, they were fight, they were hope, they were… love.

So, instead, he folded an arm around her back and said, “Okay.”

Lessia nodded, her soft skin rubbing against his rough cheek, and they were quiet for a while, listening to the bustle that had picked up on the ships, where soldiers were putting out weapons, where his friends probably shared the final decisions they’d agreed upon today with Loche, where everyone prepared for one last evening before the rebels were expected to show tomorrow.

It wasn’t until Lessia began fidgeting with her dagger, the ruby one his mother had once owned—or at least so he’d been told growing up—that Merrick cleared his throat.

“We’ll get the other one back.”

He’d seen how she often grasped for it—the amber-decorated twin to the dagger now in her hand—the one her father had gifted her when she came of age.

They’d searched the entire ship for it, gone through each drawer and dusty box, but Rioner must have seen it for what it was—a royal weapon—and taken it when he fled the ship.

“Yes,” Lessia said simply as she tucked the other into its sheath again.

“Tell me something,” she asked as Merrick couldn’t help but move her fully onto his lap, securing her legs sideways across his own so he could continue looking at her.

“What do you want me to tell you?” Merrick smiled at her.

The smile was weak. But it was a real one.

They’d started this game on the ship on the way here, when Lessia hadn’t been able to stop herself from asking questions all day, every day.

But she’d been too tired at night to come up with new ones—so she’d started asking him to tell her things he thought of—and he loved how it reminded him of when he’d told her how everything had changed between them back in Ellow.

“What’s your family name?”

He shook his head, teasing, “Of all the questions…”

But Lessia only popped a brow back at him, so Merrick shrugged. “Morshold.”

“It fits you.” Lessia tilted her head as if examining him, humming to herself. “It really does.”

Poking a finger into her side until she let out a slight squeal, Merrick laughed softly.

“I’ve never really gone by it. Since I never met my parents, it didn’t feel right somehow—carrying a family name when I didn’t have a family.

It’s what Raine and the others did, so… I kind of just did the same. ”

“I know what you mean.” Lessia leaned her head on his shoulder, holding his eyes whenever her eyelashes didn’t sweep across her fair cheeks. “I know I’ve used the Rantzier name, but after that day… after what he did to my father… I don’t want it anymore.”

Merrick wanted to ask her then.

Ask her the question he carried around like a precious gemstone.

Ask her to marry him—or to allow him to organize a mating ceremony—whatever she preferred, but to do something that would tie her to him, make her his official family.

Ask her to do the honor of taking his name.

Or he’d take hers.

He didn’t give a shit that it was Rantzier.

He’d wear it proudly if it meant his and hers were the same.

But something in her eyes told him it wasn’t the time.

They’d go to war tomorrow, and she… she didn’t want to be reminded they might never get to do it. That’s what the emotions drifting from her told him, so Merrick only held her closer and whispered, “I love you, Elessia. Whatever name you might choose to carry.”