Skyrim Mercer Frey Novels & Stories

“What do you think I am?” She heaved a big sigh. “The assassin!” She laughed and fell back. “Flarry must have told you a lot about me.” Arya nodded. “He says you're one he can barely defeat no matter what, but will surely defeat if he's consistent.” Freya shook her head. “He lied! I will chop off his head if he's consistent in attacking me. I am merciless!!!” “Fine! Be merciless to me, but please, keep me alive.” Arya pleaded.

"Nyara, meet your future mate—Silvermoon Pack's Alpha, Frey Moonfang." I froze. Not a rogue? Frey Moonfang? The guy who turned Silvermoon around in just a year? He caught my look and spoke gently. "I'm sorry, Nyara. I was injured. The Alpha King had me recover out in the outskirts—I couldn't come sooner." I opened my mouth, but my eyes drifted to his leg. He'd walked in smooth. Not a single limp. Frey noticed. A knowing smile lit up his eyes. "It's healed now," he said calmly. "The Alpha King's healer worked miracles."

Ancient power rippled violently through the forest as Eros wrapped one hand around the man’s throat. “Who sent you?” The mercenary struggled uselessly. “You’re already too late.” Eros’s eyes sharpened dangerously. “For what?” The man smiled despite the fear in his face. “She’s remembering.” Then suddenly blood spilled from his mouth. Freya’s eyes widened. The mercenary collapsed instantly. Dead. Poison. Eros released the body slowly, expression turning colder than before. Freya stared at the corpse. “He killed himself.” “He was silenced.” The answer came instantly.

“Because whenever people betray you they will always be caught. They will always be on your leash. And they can work for free. Because now they fucked up their first chance. So this second chance is them trying to buy back their freedom. “Now here’s the kicker. They don’t know when they’ve bought their freedom back. You might tell them after two jobs, after ten jobs, after twenty jobs. Who knows? But it’s when the boss tells them they are free that they are free. Do you understand now?” He nodded. “Now how about you leave me and let me handle my affairs.” He bowed. Before he could leave, I stopped him. “One more thing.” He turned to me. “Have you caught wind of Freya? Your spies, have they s

There was no emotion in his voice, and Freya couldn't tell whether he cared that she fell or whether he felt indifferent to it. "Attend to her immediately!" He turned to a few soldiers beside him, urging them to help the two helping Freya to get up. "I'm fine" Freya said with disdain, yanking her arm off the two were-soldiers helping her get up. Damian couldn't even get down from his werewolf to attend to her but a thought reminded her that he had instructed his guards to help her immediately. "I think my mount is getting tired of walking, I should start returning to avoid witnessing his stubbornness any time more" she excused, trying to find a reason for them to go back.

The Prince only have the two most trusting men beside him, they could die for him and swore their whole faith to the empire. "Right, welcome everyone, I'm Roman Hers and my colleague Ashton Welsh should be here but I think he's running late." He chuckled to light up the tension, he was hot not handsome like Rhyker and Ashton but not my style. I think he will suit Faine's style pretty much. Blond gold hair, grey piercing eyes, his nose crooked making it look like a fighter.

Stands over me bleeding out on the floor. "I told you. I told you this is where it ends." He picks up the silver knife. "But I'm merciful. I'll make it quick." He raises the knife. Aims for my heart. This is it. This is how I die. Then Freya crashes back into the room. Half-shifted. Her wolf partially emerged. Eyes glowing gold. Feral. Desperate. Powerful beyond her training. She slams into Asher. Knocks him off his feet. The knife goes flying.

Joric, witnessing the exchange, seethed with jealousy at the sight of Clay's grin directed at the woman he admired. Joric harbored jealousy whenever Freya interacted with either Clay or Alec. As he observed Freya reciprocating Clay's smile, Joric's frustration escalated. "She's mine, Clay, mine!" Joric declared, transforming in a fit of anger. He lunged at Clay, who adeptly evaded the attack, biding his time to shift. Concerned for her friend, Freya recognized Joric's strength as their future alpha, rooted in superior bloodline. Despite Clay's tactical skill and composure, the ongoing skirmish favored Joric, with the latter adopting an aggressive stance while Clay focused on defensive maneuv

I couldn't hear his reply, but Damien then said, “You can come back to the house now, bring Tristan and the others.” I think Evan then must have asked if I was okay, because Damien then said, “they managed to successfully remove the metal and gave her some blood in a drip. She's sitting next to me downstairs and her wound is almost healed, it's miraculous,” he sounded so happy, and his face was full of pride, as he listened to Evan on the other end of the phone. He then replied, “Freya ascended, and then threatened to rip out the hearts of anyone that wanted to touch Tristan or the others, she said she'd serve the hunters hearts to the wolves for their dinner.”

“What else do we even know about this demon? Why was it trying to kidnap Freya? As far as I remember, we have stayed out of their business for ages now.” “I don’t know much either, but Freya told me that her father sold her off to it.” I grit my teeth, remembering the fool of a man who deserved nothing but death. “He did so in exchange for wanting his wife back. The demon promised to resurrect her but at the last moment; he went back on his word, injured her father and took her with him. I think Freya heard him mention that he wasn’t paid enough to answer her questions.” “A mercenary.” Mother shook her head. “That means it’s not the demons. Someone else must have been after her.”