Page 38 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

But Merrick knew better.

She was the only thing he cared about.

In this world and any other.

Everyone and everything else could burn or drown or be demolished, for all he cared.

Let’s do it now.

Let’s kill them all.

It would be easy to give in to the whispers filling his ears.

But as Merrick opened his eyes and stared at the people surrounding him—the cowering Ardow and Venko by the wall; the regent holding on to the railing, his face filled with torment; Raine staring at him with worry tightening the corners of his eyes; the dark-haired guard holding his sword in his hand and the other pushing Amalise behind him—Merrick tightened his grip on the veil keeping those souls from doing anything other than whisper whatever they wanted to the living.

He nearly scoffed when Zaddock continued to wave his blade in the air.

As if a sword could do anything against his magic…

Merrick’s eyes snapped to a door opening as those copper-haired sisters ventured onto the deck, their faces strained but with no fear brightening their eyes as they stared out over the chaos.

He shook his head when they came closer.

Did they have a death wish?

The memory of them saving him and Lessia in that cellar flashed within his mind, and Merrick cursed silently when another surge of fury consumed him.

He’d been nearly as damned angry then as he was now.

When those fucking men had marked her…

The dead guards should count themselves lucky that he hadn’t been able to use his magic when he killed them.

He would have honored his promise—would have let them be tortured through all eternity by the souls he now began pushingback to wherever they resided when they weren’t trying to break into the living realm.

Lessia was alive, he reminded himself.

And he needed these people to find her.

At least some of them.

He doubted they’d be as eager to help if he killed off the useless ones. Fear unfortunately wasn’t as much of a motivator as the king of Vastala believed…

With a sigh, Merrick tightened the leash further, using some of the anger to force the souls to move faster than they usually liked.

They shrieked at him as he drove them farther and farther away, but he didn’t even bother snarling back.

They knew who their master was.

When the last one finally left the deck, Merrick slumped against the railing, the anger and frustration and despair draining him as much as the pressure of his magic.

“You are terrifying,” one of the sisters—Soria, Merrick seemed to remember—said as she walked up beside him. “No wonder they call you the Death Whisperer. That’s exactly what that felt like.”

He shot her a warning glare before growling, “We need to sail faster. We’re running out of time.”

“You’re not even going to apologize?” Zaddock hissed as he finally sheathed his sword.

Raising a brow, Merrick moved his eyes to his, and thankfully, the human closed his mouth before Merrick shut it another way.