The Mercies Novels & Stories

A dog slips free of its leash and darts toward the street, only to pause at the curb, distracted by a scent, missing the wheels by inches. Small mercies. Not miracles. Just softness. As if the world has decided it is allowed to be kind when she is near. That is not how fate works. That is not how the system works. Mercy is not a default state. Mercy is an anomaly. And Nora carries it without force, without prophecy, without demanding a rewrite. She simply stays, and the world behaves differently around her. The weave still does not react. Fate is not here. That is the other wrongness.

A mixture of gratitude and embarrassment settled within her as he gently wiped away her tears, creating a unique connection between two souls traversing through the unexpected twists of fate. The hazel eyes that had witnessed much silently communicated a profound understanding, leaving Hiya to contemplate the depth of compassion that had unexpectedly entered her life. She lowered her gaze, and he continued, "I am sorry... I know I shouldn't have done this, but you were crying nonstop for a long time, and I couldn't resist.” --------------------

she murmured, feeling cherished in his embrace. Grace felt a rush of warmth surge through her as she gazed into Noah’s eyes, their depth conveying a sincerity that touched her soul. She nestled closer to him, feeling the comfort of his embrace enveloping her. With a soft smile gracing his lips, Noah continued, “It’s because you are all these things, Grace. Your beauty isn’t confined to what meets the eye; it’s in the compassion you show for others, the strength you possess even when things are rough for you.”

And Moon, used, filled, and owned, pressed his forehead to the cold tile and let the tears come. He was theirs. He was exactly where he belonged, and he couldn't ask for a better place. THE END

"Put your hands where we can see them! Now!" Abel walked towards them fearlessly with both his hands in the air. An agent ran towards him, brought Abel's hands down and handcuffed them.... 🎵Lord, Have mercy on me🎵 🎵Have Mercy on my soul🎵 🎵Don't let my heart turn cold🎵 🎵Have Mercy on many men🎵 . . . . The Following Morning

She would claim the pen, the crown, and the dawn. And, for the first time, rewrite mercy as the strongest magic of all. And far below, beneath mirror and root, prophecy and pain, the world itself waited, breath held, to see if mercy could outlive vengeance, and if, in the end, it would be enough...

Or a body. "Silas," I warned, my voice a growl. “I’m not lying,” Ivy cried out. “I was at The Abyss. I ran into the Mercer brothers. Are you happy now?” A long, chilling silence filled the speakers. “The Mercers?” Grant’s tone changed. It wasn't angry anymore. It was... calculating. “You were with Silas Mercer?” “I saw them. We talked. That’s it.” “They are worth billions,” Grant muttered, sounding like he was talking to himself. “And they have history with your family... they have a soft spot for the grieving sister...”

Red welts marked where her nails had dug in—small, crescent-shaped, already darkening. I pressed my fingers over them gently. So this was what mercy looked like. Not kindness. Not forgiveness. Just pain delivered quietly—where no one else would ever see it. And Sebastian… He had believed her. Because she was smiling. And I was human. ---

“I want to walk you through it so there are no surprises.” My hands are still in my lap. I don’t reach for it, just stare at the folder. “The position is live-in,” she continues. “But I’m willing to be flexible. Four days a week at the estate. Three days you’re free to maintain your work at the hospital, your personal life, whatever you need. I understand you have family obligations.” I blink. “How did you know I—” “I did my research, Miss Brennan.” She opens the folder. Slides a sheet of paper toward me. “Your mother is a patient at St. Mercy’s. Stage four cancer. Surgery scheduled for…” She glances at the paper. “Well. Pending funding, I assume.”

“We misled Mercy into the belief that the supernatural were not edible, and they taste differently enough to be off putting, which is why those that are stray do target humans and not supernatural, however, meat is meat, ultimately.” “I am afraid that the early days of this condition and his own guilt have somewhat… disturbed Leighton’s thinking,” she picked up the second cup and took a sip. “He has never recovered from that first time… And I cannot blame him for that. It has taken me a very long time to come to terms with it myself. However, this flood has exposed many of the flaws in our lives, not the least that Mercy is very, very unhappy. As is understandable. She is a young woman who h