Page 3 of Merrick: The 12 Sectors

Merrick had seen more than he wanted to.

“I’ll leave them to their happiness. We have our own destiny to make, my friend,” he said.

Bezeck’s smile showed his stained brown teeth. “Good answer.”

“Are you ready to do this with me? You have made a life here. There is nothing where we’re going.”

“Stop askin’ me that, friend. I had a spot to sleep and a couple of slaves. Sold the spot, takin’ the slaves.” He paused and looked over his shoulder toward the woman in the cage. “You sure you can do the other thing?”

Merrick nodded. His education as a favored son with special tutors and full library access had left him with all sorts of interesting knowledge. Even though it hadn’t been enough to escape the expectation of following the orders from bullies and ass-kissers of the King’s Army, he was not a man without a wide range of talents.

“Are you sure you want all that to deal with that?” He met Bezeck’s eyes. “You’ve never seen how crazy a broken omega can get.”

Everyone thought omegas were weak and biddable. After knowing Maura Dover, he knew better than most that a vicious side lurked under their curves.

Merrick had met Maura by chance. Her husband-mate had been murdered, she’d told him. At first, the twisted smile on her face had made him think she had done the deed. He’d found out from her in bits and pieces that Edin Dover engaged in many subversive activities. Too many to count, all good reasons a male might be murdered.

Forced into a marriage-contract—raped during her heat—Maura craved revenge against her own unwanted child and the male who seeded her.

“Give me a marriage contract now, give me that shine and lady’s maid you sell, you can have the damn pub, all my property, everything, I’ll give you the bitch-girl myself, and watch the night you fuck her,” she’d told Merrick.

Since Merrick had cut all ties with his family there was only one way back into society. He jumped at the deal Maura offered him when she served up a bride-mate on a platter.

He’d had no idea the omega would meet this plan with a spine of steel.

Merrick had lost his chance with Sasha. That didn’t stop the replay of every moment of knowing her. She lingered in his blood like a terminal disease.

His mother had told him that rut sickness changed his brother. Turned man to monster. Merrick was not like one of them—his older siblings.

His charm earned him all kinds of special favors in the household of the leader of the breed. A favored princeling who had never known the deprivations his brothers grew up with. Of course, he couldn’t be transformed by something as raw and animalistic as an unsatisfied rut. Could he? Were his teeth getting bigger? His body thickening? By the rod, would he end up looking like a combination of Bezeck and his older brother, Nothonal?

Fists clenched into hammer heads, Bezeck looked toward the front of the bar again at the dog cage. “She’s not broken. She’s surviving.”

“She will run a knife through your belly the minute you fall asleep.” Just like Sasha would have done to Merrick.

“Maybe your belly, boyo.” Bezeck patted the muscled girth of his stomach. The male was layered in thick muscled bulk compared to Merrick’s lean, quick strength.

Reaching forward, his friend took the empty cup from Merrick’s hand and held up the bottle he’d purchased with the other. “And there’s none of this where we are going. Do you think you will sleep? You’ll have the jitters in three days, I bet you.”

“Three days? Do I look like some drone to you?”

Bezeck smirked and held up two fingers. “Two days.”

“One since I will be smelling the skink of your shit encrusted ass every day after tomorrow.”

“Ha,” Bezeck barked out a laugh. “Never say the pretty boy prince Mer can’t give as good as he gets.”

“That’s Sir Pretty Boy Prince to you, lowlife. Do you need me to teach you how to say my name again?”

“A name is a thing a man earns.” Bezeck grinned.

In a flash, Merrick had his whip uncoiled, in his hand. He struck with it while still seated, a lash that landed across the old canvas top of Bezeck’s pack and split the fabric in two like a knife. Bezeck knew Merrick’s true name, the one his mother had gifted him with, was both precious and hated.

Alphas who survived their 30 years King’s service often chose a new name at the end, when they graduated with honors from their service—nothing Bezeck said was untrue. It still pissed Merrick off.

“There you go again, just making things difficult.” The alpha looked down at his pack.

Merrick grunted.