Page 139 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile

Over and over.

Chapter 28

Loche

Geyia stood by the stove in the cramped cabin, and while they had brought little food with them in their haste to leave to find Lessia, his friend must have managed to whip something up, from the mouthwatering smells filling the small room.

Loche apparently wasn’t the only one starving, as almost every inch of the room was filled with people. Around the same table he sat at, Zaddock and Amalise were seated beside each other, the former still staring at her while she ignored him.

The copper-haired sisters had taken the seats beside Loche, while Kerym had slipped onto the chair beside Pellie, his blue eyes—which were still eerily strong in color, apparently from siphoning almost all the pale Fae’s energy—wandering over the small woman, something like curiosity on his face.

Thissian, who’d been stabbed in the gut, suffering a wound so deep no human would have survived, sat against a wall, his face still blanched but eyes sharp as they took in the room the same way Loche did.

Ardow and Venko sat beside him, the former offering to get Thissian something but being rewarded only with a dismissive wave of the Fae’s hand.

Around them, the Faelings had spread out, making themselves at home on Loche’s ship after abandoning the smaller one they’d come on, although they kept huddled together, throwing somewhat suspicious looks at the Siphon Twins.

He’d decided with Geyia and Steiner that it would be best if they remained together, not just because they might need that magic he’d only caught a glimpse of when the Faelings saved them from Meyah, but because they were running out of time.

Geyia and the others had told him they’d raced away from several strange ships when they left Ellow’s water, and that the whispers in Ellow confirmed they only had days until the rebels attacked.

Thankfully, they’d also seen his soldiers follow the orders he’d borrowed Raine’s eagle to deliver.

His men—following the orders he’d sent—were rounding up all the men and women in Ellow who were willing to fight, putting them on the ships they had left from the last war, and sending all those too old or young or sick to the caves for safety.

Some of them might be rebels, as Loche had refused to cause mistrust and chaos already before the fight began, but he harbored a small hope that if they saw their friends and neighbors fall at the rebels’ swords, they might reconsider.

It was a fragile hope, of course, but if Lessia of all people could keep a small flame burning after everything… so could he.

Loche’s eyes stayed on some of the younger Faelings. There was a boy there who looked only twelve or thirteen, his body lanky in the way Loche’s had been when he finally grew at eleven, and his raven hair messy in a way that told him the child didn’t care what it looked like.

It was almost too much when gray eyes met his. Even if they were darker than his own, they carried the same suspicion Loche hadn’t been able to erase after his own years on the streets.

From what Lessia had told him, these Faelings hadn’t had it easy.

Still, they were here. They were fighting. For this fucking wretched world. For Ellow—a nation that hadn’t been kind to them either.

Those gray eyes continued to bore into his own, and Loche found himself struggling to look away, something stirring in him when more eyes turned his way, sizing him up.

A white-haired woman, one who seemed to be the leader of the Faelings, found his eyes briefly before she winced—actually winced at him—and turned away, backing up a few steps.

One by one, the half-Fae focused on Geyia again, their eyes lighting up when she threw quips their way, exactly like she’d done with Loche when they got to know each other to make him comfortable with her—every pair but the gray ones that had captured Loche’s eyes first.

They narrowed as they swept over Loche’s dark clothing—the simple but expensive cut of his trousers and shirt—and a feeling of unease crept up on the regent when he realized what ill-fitting clothing they were all clad in.

Loche cleared his throat, and before he realized what he was doing, he addressed the Faelings, silencing the soft smattering of plates and hushed conversations in the room.

“I promise you, if we win the war, things will be different. Ellow will be different.” He nodded once as he sought the young boy’s eyes before meeting each pair around him. “You will not need to hide anymore. Not from anyone.”

It was quiet for a second, and the mistrust tensing in the air was palpable as the gray-eyed young boy spoke up.

“That’s not why we’re here.” One of his arms shot out, sweeping across the group. “Lessia fought for us when no one else would. We will fight for her until our last breath if that’s what it takes.”

His eyes held a wisdom that was too old for his age as he continued. “You might be regent, but you didn’t doanythingfor us. Even if you must have known what it was like. And from what I’ve now heard, you’re ahalflingyourself.” He spat out the vile word as if it was hard for him to even let his lips touch it.

“Ledger!” Geyia’s wide eyes flew to Loche before she stepped toward the boy. “That’s no?—”

Loche lifted a hand, rising from his chair. “It’s fine, Geyia.”