Page 24 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile (Compelling Fates Saga #3)

Loche

L oche leaned over the railing, letting the waves still crashing against the sides—even with the heavy anchors they’d lowered to keep the two ships from drifting too far apart—splash salty drops onto his face.

He wished the water could somehow scrub the memories of the last hours from his mind, but it did little more than sting his slightly sunburned skin.

Loche sighed as he straightened and dragged his hands down his rough face. He hadn’t been certain if he’d ever see spring again—didn’t even want to think about summer…

Not that he expected to see another in Ellow.

With the threat of the rebels and now the Oakgards’ Fae…

No. Loche was quite sure he’d be joining Lessia’s father within the next few weeks.

He clenched his hands by his side as Alarin’s lifeless body being carried across the ship flashed before his eyes.

The Fae warriors had given him a proper Fae goodbye, at least as worthy as they could out here in Korina’s waters.

Loche had heard of them before, of course, but he’d never attended one himself.

It might even have been beautiful, how everyone on the two vessels—human and Fae alike—lined up on either side of Rioner’s ship as Merrick and Raine carried the royal Fae across it, humming a mournful song in one of the Fae’s old languages.

They’d each touched their heart and then laid a hand on Alarin’s chest when he’d been carried past them—the way Fae expressed that he’d forever live within them, and that they’d carry his love with them always.

But Loche hadn’t been able to stop staring at Lessia the entire time.

She’d been so strong. Standing straight-backed, she’d held on to her sister, who’d doubled over, screaming out her pain, letting the younger half-Fae lean on her as Merrick and Raine lowered a small boat with Alarin in it and let it drift away to be swallowed by the Eiatis Sea.

Lessia had been strong in the way she always was.

But Loche knew what she worked so desperately to hide behind the quiet tears falling down her face as she pressed her hand against her father’s chest.

Guilt. Raw, all-consuming guilt.

That’s what kept her going right now—what kept her standing.

It was the same guilt that lived in him—the one that had drawn him to her those first days of knowing her.

He’d seen the way Lessia moved—as if she didn’t think she belonged anywhere, as if she asked the world for forgiveness for walking on its earth, as if she didn’t believe she deserved the same treatment as the people around her.

But he’d also seen her kindness. The pure light that drove her to want to do good at whatever cost.

Loche had never felt so connected to anyone before, especially not so quickly.

Not his soldiers.

Not even Zaddock.

When Lessia spoke to him, it was as if she saw him. She saw Loche.

She saw him not as the regent everyone feared, wondering how he’d become so powerful, but as the boy who had been born into a cruel world, who’d made mistakes and paid for them, but tried to do what he could to make his nation a better place.

Loche shook his head as the memories of their final time together, before it all went to shit, replaced the ones of today.

He was pretty certain he preferred not to remember the good times with Lessia, and he balled his hands so snugly, it felt like all blood drained from them.

Loche didn’t want to dream of her laugh—the one he’d heard too few times, but which appeared ingrained in his memory. He didn’t want to see her twirl in the damned dress he’d purchased for her, when she stole his breath with how beautiful she looked.

He didn’t want to remember the feel of her skin beneath his hands. The way her lips melted against his. The way she breathed when she was excited or scared.

She wasn’t his, and… he knew now she never would be.

Not after what he did to her.

Lessia calling his name that day—the desperation, the pain, the fear in her voice—filled most of his nightmares, and he dreaded sleeping because of it.

Back then, he’d thought it was the only way…

But it had cost him everything.

As soon as he’d caught her eyes in that damned cabin after his men had captured her and the Fae warriors, he knew it was over.

The way she hovered by Merrick wasn’t for protection. It was as if those two were drawn to each other wherever they went, like two forces that couldn’t be apart.

Loche sighed.

He’d heard of the Fae’s mates, but he didn’t really understand it—didn’t understand how Lessia, who resented anyone for taking away her choices, could stand it.

But…

At least Merrick loved her with everything in him.

Loche had seen the fear in his eyes today, and while he felt for the Fae, because that fear resounded in him as well, he was grateful for it. Merrick would die for Lessia—exactly like Loche would have if she’d chosen him.

“May… may I join you?”

He almost pinched himself to make sure that it wasn’t another dream—that it truly was Lessia who walked over from the cabin inside, her matted hair and empty eyes illuminated only by the moon that hung high above them in the sky.

Forcing himself to nod, Loche stepped to the side, allowing her to take the spot by the railing beside him where he stood in the bow, and as she settled, he placed a hand atop the wooden sea wyvern that hung there.

“Can’t sleep?” He couldn’t meet her eyes again, not now, when her scent joined the salty wooden one of the ship, so he looked out over the restless sea, where the moon’s reflection played in the waves.

“No.”

Her voice was so small, so broken. So full of guilt, he could taste it.

Fuck. He had to turn to face her, and when he met those pain-filled amber eyes, saw the torment that seemed to hurt her more than any of the broken bones and wounds she carried, he opened his arms.

To his surprise, Lessia walked right into them, and he had to fight with everything in him not to burrow his face into her hair, pull that intoxicating scent of hers deep into his lungs.

“It’s not your fault,” Loche whispered when she continued trembling in his arms.

“Everyone keeps saying that.” She sniffed. “But if not partly mine, whose is it?”

“Rioner’s. It’s only Rioner’s fault.” Loche pulled back to look at her, trying to keep his voice even as he faced the broken woman he still loved. “I know you think you’re responsible, I know the guilt you think you must carry, but it’s unwarranted, Lessia. You have done nothing wrong.”

A mixture of a sob and a snort left her. “Nothing wrong? I spied on you! I told my king your secrets! I… I took your memories and feelings, and then I… I didn’t know.”

Her face crumbled. “I didn’t know,” she whispered again. “I didn’t know, and I hurt you. Like I’ve hurt everyone.”

Closing his eyes, he drew a deep breath.

He knew she’d feel guilty when she found out why he did what he did, especially because of what had happened between her and the Death Whisperer. But… it was still unwarranted.

Opening his eyes, he pulled her closer again—not into a tight embrace, but so she wouldn’t miss any of his response.

“Listen to me.” His hands rested atop her shoulders, gently squeezing them when she made to look away. “I love you. I probably always will in some way. But this was meant to happen.”

He gave her a weak smile. “I won’t be able to follow where you must go. I have a duty to my people, and I must see it through. He… Merrick has no loyalty to anyone but you. As it should be. As it was meant to be. As you deserve.”

Lessia shook her head, her eyes darting between his.

“Yes, as you deserve. You deserve to be happy. For as long as you can.” Loche’s heart constricted when she continued to shake her head, and he moved his hands to her cheeks to stop the movement.

“People like you and me,” he mumbled as he tried not to allow his heart to beat faster at the feeling of her skin, albeit dirty and bloodied, heating under his fingers. “We don’t get these chances often. Please… for me, be happy when you can. It… it gives me hope I’ll have it again before the end.”

She stared at him for so long and so intensely that, for the first time, Loche had the urge to look away from her imploring eyes.

But he kept her gaze until it softened, until the small creases around her eyes vanished and the frown that had marred her forehead faded.

Until she understood he meant what he said.

“Wh-where will you go?” She took a step back as she spoke, and Loche didn’t have to turn his head to know Merrick was approaching them.

But as the Fae stalked up to Lessia’s side, tucking her against him as if they were only one being, Merrick didn’t threaten to kill him for touching her, or even throw him one of his death stares.

Instead, his dark eyes shone with gratitude, and when Lessia rested her cheek against the Fae’s chest, he actually bowed his head.

Confused, Loche nodded back, remaining silent until Lessia softly cleared her throat.

Right. She’d asked him a question.

“I… I think I need to try to find the rebels.” Loche tried not to stare at the hands running up and down Lessia’s back, at how easily she molded herself against the Death Whisperer.

“It’s only weeks left until their attack, and while my soldiers are preparing what they can in Ellow, we won’t survive two wars. ”

“Their leader is ruthless.” Merrick sought his eyes as he spoke. “She harbors a lot of hatred in her heart. You might need to kill her.”

Lessia gave a soft nod. “She reminded me of Rioner when we met. But… but her people are innocent. There were several of them that seemed worried when we told them of the threat of the Oakgards’ Fae. They might follow you if you can honor their place in society.”

Loche met Merrick’s eyes, and a moment of understanding flowed between them.

Like himself, Merrick didn’t seem convinced they’d be that easy to turn.

Still, Loche hummed in agreement. “We will try not to kill them if we can.”

“Who will you bring?” Merrick had begun playing with Lessia’s hair, and Loche had to tear his eyes away, throwing them back out across the sea.

“The people on this ship, I suppose,” Loche responded. “I cannot spare more soldiers right now, nor do I have time to return to Ellow and then go out again.”

It was quiet for a beat as Merrick moved his gaze to Lessia, then back to Loche.

“Kerym and Thissian will join you. I need Raine. I… I don’t know what we’ll face out there…” Merrick didn’t need to finish for Loche to understand he feared whatever those Lakes of Mirrors could bring.

“Thank you,” Loche offered when the Fae remained silent.

Merrick gave him the slightest dip of his chin. “Thank you as well,” he said, so quietly Loche wasn’t sure if he’d imagined it.

He made the mistake of glancing back at Lessia and Merrick, and his chest nearly caved in at the way they stared at each other. The look in their eyes held so much trust and love and fight, Loche couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Without excusing himself, he started to back away.

Not that it mattered. Lessia and Merrick didn’t look up as he made his way over to his own ship, and he could still see their silhouettes standing in the same position when he sank down against the upper cabin.

Pressing his hands to his aching chest, he thought perhaps he had lied to Lessia back there.

He didn’t have any hope of finding what she had. And even if he did, he didn’t want it.

Because that meant he would risk feeling like this again.