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Or at leasttriedto.

That Fae wasn’t just trouble.

He was fucking evil.

His soul was nothing more than a blackened, shriveled lump of coal that even the souls dancing around Merrick wouldn’t touch—wouldn’t want anywhere near their realm.

As Merrick allowed a warning to vibrate in his throat when Torkher held his eyes, he also thought of how, growing up, he’d sometimes found comfort in Torkher’s evil.

It had helped to know true evil when Merrick feared he himself was turning rotten.

But now?

There was nothing comforting in the way Torkher tried to peek behind his back, continuing toward him and Lessia even when his king ordered the group to stop.

“Obey your master,” Merrick purred, forcing the numbing dread of knowing Torkher had been alone with Lessia out of his voice. “Otherwise…”

He let his magic free—let those greedy souls surround Torkher—although it proved more challenging, since some of them recoiled from his mere presence.

Still, those whispers whirred in the air, telling the Fae whatever they could to unsettle him, mocking his horrid mind.

But although Torkher stopped in his tracks, what appeared like an involuntary shudder running through him, he still threw his head back and cackled.

A madman’s cackle.

A male insane enough not to fear death.

Or a male broken enough…

Merrick had seen both before.

“I know death intimately, Death Whisperer,” Torkher said after his laughter faded with the wind. “You do not scare me.”

Pulling the reins on his magic, Merrick cocked his head. “Is that a challenge?”

“Perhaps.” Torkher looked over his shoulder at his king and the frozen group of Fae. “Or perhaps it’s an invitation. Shebegged for death, you know. Cried for us to kill her when we tortured her.”

Lessia’s breath hitched behind him, and Merrick’s whispers exploded across the ship again, so loud that two of the king’s highly trained guards covered their ears even as they gripped their swords.

“Yes,” Torkher continued, his glacial grin widening. “I showed her again and again what will happen to you when she dies… She likes you quite a lot, you know. Trulyisyours. I even took the liberty of putting your name on her. Remember? Like we did to our victims when we were young, to count them?”

Another sharp breath sounded behind him.

Merrick ground his teeth as he spun around, ready to explain, but his words stuck in his throat when Lessia only smiled at him, the sight still breathtaking, lighting up her bloodied face.

And when she said in a hoarse voice, “I claim that guard. I want to carve my name across his face,” Merrick had to fight that burning sensation behind his eyes again.

He was just waiting for Lessia to become frightened of him—to realize just who he was.

But she seemed to be too damned stubborn, and wasn’t he the luckiest fucking male in the realm for it.

Turning around again, Merrick realized his magic had snapped back without him needing to tug on it.

“You heard her,” Merrick said quietly. “Hopefully she’ll cut off your fucking dick and let you bleed to death first, though.”

A cough got stuck in Raine’s throat, and Merrick met his friend’s eyes for a brief second, realizing Raine was trying not to fucking laugh.

He rolled his eyes as he faced the group again, readying himself when Torkher stepped toward them.