The Book Mercy Novels & Stories

Silence lingered between them. The rest of the flight was quiet as Kevin sat in another seat at the back busy signing documents and discussing business matters while Emma read a book and intermittently looked out the window watching the scenery below and sometimes stealing a glance back at him and caught him looking at her. After an hour, Kevin walked to her, checking on her as she drifted off to sleep. The leather-bound book she was reading lay open on her lap, the words written on its open page clearly visible; “If I know what love is, it is because of you!" Kevin smiled and then put the book aside. There was no lie in it.

The once ardent affection gradually faded until it was all but gone. Finally, he saw Serena's name written in the diary. The sight of it made his heart bleed. "Kevin, I hate you." It was just four words, but Henley had poured immense strength into writing them. The ink had bled through the page. They carried the full weight of her hatred toward him. He realized belatedly that even on the day his flight had nearly crashed, Henley had been there. There came a sudden knock on the door. When he opened it, he saw the woman standing outside was the same female manager from the other day when he went to the sales office.

"Let me go! I don't want to go there. I don't want to!" Bianca fell to her knees in front of me and grabbed the hem of my pants with shaking hands. "Please have mercy on me, Anna. I'll never bother you ever again. Please forgive me! "Have you forgotten that we grew up together? I'm willing to do anything as long as you set me free! I mean it! I'll even grovel at your feet for your forgiveness!" Bianca started knocking her forehead against the ground. Fresh blood spurted from the point of impact, but she seemed to be oblivious to the pain and continued knocking her forehead against the floor with all her might.

Surrounded by fire and no one to show him how to hold it without being consumed. The Hollow showed her his beginning. "Why?" Isabella asked. "Because he was not always your enemy," said the voice. "He chose that path. But his pain came first. Do not forget that. Mercy is not forgiveness. Mercy is wisdom." She inhaled. And then, the fire carried her forward. --- The cinders swirled as Isabella returned to the surface. Her body, anchored by fire and memory, felt heavier but more alive. As if the breath she took now was drawn from the earth’s own lungs.

she said. Asher studied her. “Are you sure?” “Yes,” she nodded. “Not for him. For me.” Asher pulled her into his arms without another word, holding her as tightly as he could without breaking her. Behind them, the guards remained silent. Mercy had been chosen. Not because it was deserved. But because Elena had finally reclaimed the power they’d tried to steal from her. And this time, she was free. ---

Said less than she should. And yet—she’d wrapped the woman who betrayed her in warmth. Because somewhere in her broken heart, mercy still lived. But tomorrow, mercy wouldn’t matter. Only truth would. And the closer she and Joseph drew to it, the more dangerous it became.

He quieted after a few breaths. Sometimes mercy looked like a man guarding the child of the woman who broke him.Sometimes mercy looked like keeping a boy warm when you wanted the world to burn.

“He asked for mercy for the first captured towns. He fears the people will turn cold if we are too cruel.” I looked at him then. The room was bare except for maps, cups, and a small bowl of dried figs. “Bram, we will not be cruel for cruelty’s sake. But we will be precise. Mercy is a tool. Use it poorly and the Spirit World eats it. Use it well and it heals.” He smiled and tapped his staff. “That is what I mean.”

Mercy Mercy was glad to see Isabella. She was so kind and refreshing. She’d brought Mercy some clean clothes and made sure she was able to take a shower without any help. She’d also brought her a snack, which was great, even though Cleo had brought her a full breakfast. Mercy felt like her stomach was turning inside out, she was so hungry. Now, she was sitting on the bed, feeling comfy in a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. They smelled like flowers and fresh cotton and made her skin feel all soft and snuggly. There was something going on with her hair, though, and it was bothering her almost as much as the fact that she couldn’t remember anything. The urge to flip her hair back over her sho

“Why do I always get left behind? “ She got up and started running outside towards the cottage, she locked herself in and went to her old room. She just couldn’t bear it, she thought she was strong but having a broken heart and a close relative dying, she was crumbling inside. She just huddled in a corner looking up at the photo frame on top of her side table.It contains a photo of her and her parents, it was a picture of peacefulness and happiness. Beside that is a photo of Ami and her uncle, she grabbed the photo and pressed it to her chest. There was a loud pounding at the door but she ignored all sounds and reminisced all her happy memories with her uncle. He acted as her mother and fath