Page 53 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

“You fought bravely, you served well, you honored your people. Now rest,” he mumbled into the iron-tinged air.

Even though Merrick hadn’t even given these guards a chance to surrender—would not give any enemy on this ship the option—his commander had instilled respect for the fallen within him.

He’d told Merrick that perhaps it was even more important for him, as a guardian of death—or as they later called him, the Death Whisperer—to respect those who went before him.

“Sounds like there are more coming. Will you save one for the rest of us this time?”

Merrick nearly snapped his teeth at Raine’s voice, but instead he opened his eyes and found his friend in the same position as before—casually resting against the railing.

“Seems you needed a break,” Merrick responded as he jerked his head.

Thankfully, Raine was still in tune with how they used to fight, and with an eye roll, the latter started picking up the bodies and throwing them overboard.

Nothing could be done about the blood, though.

Shooting his eyes over to where Lessia and Ardow still stood, Merrick was relieved to find she wasn’t watching him with fear in her eyes.

On the contrary, it seemed she had some more life in her, her cheeks a bit rosier under the dirt stains.

More steps sounded, and Merrick stiffened when the voice he’d never forget—that he might hate more than all other sounds—sliced through the air.

“The king is coming,” he hissed at Raine, still keeping his eyes on Lessia.

Merrick cursed to himself when she also stiffened, something flickering within her eyes that he’d never seen before.

At his words, she stepped around Ardow, that damned sword in her hands dragging against the wooden planks once more, the rasping sound rumbling through Merrick.

He quickly abandoned the spot he’d stood in, which would have ensured he was first to meet the approaching Fae, to get to her side, and he had to stop himself from lecturing her when she hissed at him as he gently nudged her behind him.

She was injured, he reminded himself—it was not the time forbrooding, as she liked to call it.

Instead he leaned in and whispered, “Please. I nearly lost my mind the past few days, sopleaseallow me to be an overprotective bastard. Just today.”

Her eyes glimmered when he used Amalise’s words, and warmth spread within his chest when something akin to a low laugh rasped through her throat.

Metallic sounds joined the approaching feet, and the air became heavy with the flickerings of magic, the scent of smoke joining it as the wind whirled around them.

Ardow eyed them as he stalked forward, taking up a spot slightly behind Raine, who came forward to stand almost shoulder to shoulder with Merrick.

Nudging Lessia a bit farther back, Merrick finally unsheathed his sword, keeping a loose grip on his magic as a group of guards rounded the corner, the king’s gilded crown reflecting the sun where he walked in the middle.

Chapter 10

Merrick

Merrick immediately found those green eyes he’d feared were on this ship.

Fucking Torkher Sordensen.

Raine stiffened beside him, probably noting the same thing Merrick had.

Merrick cursed to himself, the grip he held on Lessia tightening.

They’d grown up with Torkher.

They were all bastards—Merrick, Raine, the twins, and Torkher—and their parents had died in war, either fighting or as civilian casualties. They’d all lived together in one of the training camps, being raised by the soldiers and commanders there.

Also like Merrick and his friends, Torkher had become one of the best soldiers, not just because of his strong mind gift but because he was truly skilled in battle, and his prowess with the sword even rivaled Merrick’s. But unlike himself and his friends, Torkher had not used his skills for good…