Page 104 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

“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 wyvernstaring 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 needus, 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.”