Although the dark-haired human kept a few feet of distance.
Perhaps he was smarter than Merrick had given him credit for.
“You know I did it because I loved her.”
Then again… perhaps he wasn’t.
The urge to slam a fist into his face and then throw the regent overboard crushed Merrick’s chest, and even though he quashed it, as he knew it wasn’t what Lessia would want for the man she’d once loved, the warning rumble in his chest hopefully encouraged the regent to tread carefully.
“I know, I know.”
Merrick threw a glare to the side when Loche shifted to face him, one of his arms leaning against the railing and the gray eyes that he worked to keep sharp, but where pain shone through like the sun now peeking over the sea ahead, locked on his own.
A shudder traveled up Merrick’s neck, pricking his scalp.
Was this how Merrick had looked to everyone else during the election?
“She chose you.” Loche bowed his head for a second before he continued. “I know that. I respect that. But I…”
Loche didn’t have to finish for Merrick to know what he meant.
He still loved her.
It was as clear as the anger and despair tangling within Merrick.
Could he really blame him? Merrick had barely spoken to her, apart from growling Rioner’s orders, when he fell for her and knew he’d never get back up.
And a small voice within Merrick told him that it was a good thing Loche still cared for his mate.
Though he was a bastard, he wanted the same thing as Merrick.
Unfortunately, he wantedmanyof the same things as Merrick.
He had to look away from the regent’s imploring eyes when the night Lessia kissed Loche in that library invaded his mind.
He’d nearly broken down the fucking bedroom when she came in, smiling and covered in another man’s scent. Only the sight of her happy grin had stopped him.
Seeing those beautiful lips lifted in a genuine smile, not the fake ones she reserved for most people, broke through the rage—the possessiveness—and he managed to tell her to continue seeing him.
But then the regent had hurt her.
Not just hurt her… but done it in the worst way possible.
Loche knew—he fucking knew!—she’d always felt like she didn’t fit in, that Fae and humans alike shunned her… and still he’d forced her away from the one place she’d found an ounce of happiness.
Merrick would do a lot to save her life—anything, really—including sacrificing every soul in this realm, and any others he might stumble upon.
But hurt her like that?
He could never.
“I can see you disagree with how I chose to protect her.”
Merrick snapped his eyes back to the regent’s gray ones.
“I had to think on my feet, Death Whisperer.” Loche threw out his arms. “The king was there. You were in the cellars. I was fucking terrified he was going to figure it out. It was the only way for the king not to get suspicious.”
Merrick forced a nod.