Page 1 of A Promise so Bold and Broken (Compelling Fates Saga #2)

Chapter One

A s she swallowed a mouthful of watery porridge, Lessia glared at the men around the timeworn table.

To her right, Merrick scrunched his nose as he lifted a spoon of the pale liquid to his lips, the disgust when it trickled down his throat as apparent as the stench of sweat and stale air permeating the small ship’s cabin.

Before her, Ardow and Venko sat with blood still staining their clothing, and her gaze snagged on Venko’s swollen-shut eye and the angry red line snaking its way from his forehead down to his chin.

The men’s gazes remained fixed on the bowls the ship’s captain had brought down for breakfast, declaring their contents was the only edible thing onboard, as their departure hadn’t been planned. Not one of them looked up as they shoveled the soupy mess into their mouths.

Lessia ground her teeth as she continued to stare daggers at them.

It’d been almost a week since they escaped Ellow.

A week in which she’d given them time to rest and heal from the injuries Ellow’s guards—and, in Merrick’s case, King Rioner’s soldiers—had inflicted.

A week in which they’d barely spoken more than two words to her, guilt building across their features every time they met her eyes.

A week in which Lessia had spent the time mainly outside, leaning over the railing and staring at the wrathful sea, trying to comprehend how everything had gone to shit.

How could she have missed two people so close to her being traitors?

She should have seen the signs with Ardow!

And Merrick…

Her gaze flicked up to the worn ceiling for a moment, following the cracks and warped beams weaving their way to the stairs leading up to the deck of the ship.

She’d assumed he was acting on orders from their king.

But whatever he’d been doing all those times he sneaked away must have been connected to the rebellion these idiots believed they were spearheading.

An ache started in her chest as she thought of Amalise—the fear she’d seen in her friend when they’d sat on that bed together on her final night in Ellow—and she clenched her teeth when Kalia’s, Ledger’s, and Fiona’s faces flashed before her eyes.

What if Zaddock hadn’t gotten to Amalise in time?

What if Amalise and Zaddock hadn’t gotten the children out?

What if everyone she loved was rotting in Loche’s cellars right this moment, believing Lessia had left them behind?

The wooden walls of the cabin seemed to creep closer, darkening the already dimly lit room and casting foreboding shadows on the males around her, causing a shiver to dance across her shoulders.

Lessia dropped her spoon when thoughts of Zaddock made Loche’s smirk fill her mind, then the images of his cold, distant eyes as she’d taken every feeling he’d ever harbored for her away.

The spoon clattered to the floor, shattering the thick silence.

Still, when Merrick quietly bent down to pick it up, neither Venko nor Ardow reacted.

The constant pressure on her chest tightened as the men’s eyes remained anywhere but on hers, and the air she forced into her lungs became heavier, filled with guilt and regret.

Her nostrils flared, and Lessia slammed her hands on the table so hard that her bowl toppled over and the gray mush spilled across the stained wood.

“Enough!”

Every pair of eyes in the room flew to hers.

Finally.

With magic pulsating under her skin, she snarled, “It’s time for you to tell me what’s going on! It’s been a week, and I’ve tried to be understanding, but I’m done waiting! Absolutely. Fucking. Done.”

Ardow’s eyes lowered when she bore her own into his, and she slammed a fist on the rotting wood again. “Look at me!”

Lessia nearly vibrated from withheld anger, the breaths she dragged into her lungs turning choppy.

They’d put the people she loved in danger.

Could have ruined everything she’d fought for the past five years.

And now they wouldn’t even meet her eyes.

A large hand landed on her shoulder, and she turned her glare to Merrick’s night-sky gaze.

She narrowed her eyes when something flashed in his dark ones, and when his mouth twitched, her magic burst to the surface, the golden glow of it reflecting in his silver flecks.

“Don’t you dare laugh at me,” she hissed, the shaking in her hands spreading through her body.

One of his brows quirked up, and the hand he kept on her shoulder tightened in warning.

Soft whispers responded to the magic buzzing around her, but there was no room for fear within her.

Not with the guilt and shame and worry that already festered like a disease on her every nerve and limb.

She should use her magic on every single one of them.

Force them to tell her everything.

Force them to face that guilt hunching their backs—do it as they looked right into her eyes.

But the longer she kept Merrick’s gaze, the longer his whispers traced her skin, the trembles racking her body softened, the overwhelming emotions were soothed, and her eyes widened when she realized what she’d almost done.

Forcing herself to blink hard, she pushed her magic down, lowering her gaze when another wave of hot guilt washed over her.

She’d promised herself never to do that.

And now…

Now that she acted on her own will and not the Fae king’s, she could actually honor that vow.

With her chin against her chest, Lessia drew a few deep breaths of musty air, and when she finally lifted her eyes, she found Venko and Ardow watching her with blanched faces.

Merrick’s gaze, though, didn’t waver when she met it again, the hand he’d kept on her shoulder squeezing it once more before releasing her.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered when silence stretched on. “I’m just tired of being kept in the dark.”

“I know,” Merrick said quietly, and when their eyes locked again, she realized she believed him.

Something in the intense silver-sprinkled darkness made her trust he understood her completely, and her stomach flipped when Merrick continued to keep her eyes hostage.

“We’ll tell you everything,” Ardow broke in, and she reluctantly shifted her gaze to his when he continued.

“We couldn’t before, Lia. It was too dangerous with your… your connection to the king.” Ardow’s eyes pleaded with her. “But we’ll tell you everything you want to know. You only need to ask.”

“How long have you all been working together?” Lessia, trying to keep out of her voice the sense of hurt that two males she’d trusted had kept this from her, made herself focus on the anger that swirled dangerously close to the surface of her skin.

Ardow’s brows flew up, and shocked laughter burst out of Venko.

Even Merrick let out a choked sound beside her.

“What?” she growled, her eyes flitting between the other three pairs.

“As if I would work with these two.” Leaning back in his chair, Merrick crossed his arms over his chest. “Their mess is theirs alone.”

Ardow scoffed, but his mouth closed when Lessia raised a hand.

“Then why would you try to save them?” She eyed Merrick as he pulled out a ribbon of fabric from inside his tunic and used it to tie back his hair.

Her eyes lingered for a moment on the shiny strands, and she wondered whether it was a full-Fae trait that kept it looking as if it had recently been washed while her own was matted and smelled like death.

When he finished removing his hair from his face, Merrick rolled his eyes. “Someone needed to help them clean it up.”

“I need more, Merrick,” she hissed through clenched teeth.

“I don’t have all the information, as our dear king made sure I couldn’t be trusted with it,” he hissed back, his eyes flaring.

She swallowed the snide remark on her tongue.

Like her, he’d been forced to serve King Rioner against his will, and she knew all too well the limitations that came with the blood oath.

And Merrick had been bound by it for centuries…

Blowing out a shaky breath, she managed to demand, “Then tell me what you do know.”

“There is more to the little rebellion your friends think they’re heroes for being part of. I don’t know the full extent, but Alarin—your father—does,” Merrick responded.

Lessia winced when her father’s sorrow-filled eyes burst into her mind, the compassion that had filled his face as he stood behind Rioner that final day on Ellow.

He hadn’t even known who she truly was when he’d hurt for her in Loche’s office.

Hadn’t known his own daughter was the one on her knees on the floor, begging the man who’d started to piece together her broken heart not to cast her out like trash on the street.

With a sharp inhale, she pushed the images away.

Threw them to the back of her mind as quickly as Loche had thrown her out.

“Alarin is your father?” Venko leaned forward, his uninjured eye narrowing.

“I—” she started, but Ardow interrupted her.

“King Rioner is your uncle ?” Hurt twisted his dark features as the hands he’d placed on the table clenched.

“So what if he is?” she snapped, balling her own hands when they continued shaking. “He doesn’t know I exist. At least not as his niece. My father kept us hidden from him my entire life, and he wouldn’t dare look at me long enough to recognize the resemblance.”

“Of course it matters!” Venko hissed. “You’re of royal blood!”

“I’m a halfling , remember? I have as much claim to the throne as either of you. Rioner would sooner kill me than recognize the blood that flows through my veins,” she snarled.

Ardow shook his head. “That’s exactly why it matters! If he ever finds out, he’ll stop at nothing to find you!”

A chill traced down her spine, but she shrugged angrily to hide it.

There was no point in worrying about King Rioner finding out who she truly was.

Not when she already had so much else to worry about.

Not when she didn’t know if her friends were safe.

If they were alive.

“Then let’s hope he never does,” she said quietly before boring her eyes into Ardow’s. “You’ve stalled long enough.”

Tension strained Ardow’s face as his eyes drifted toward Venko, and her magic pressed in her veins again when he remained quiet for a moment.

But then he sighed, his gaze returning to meet hers. “It started many years ago. Before you and I were even born… The books have it wrong, Lessia. Not all shifters were on their king’s side, but they were slaughtered all the same. No man, woman, or child the humans and Fae encountered was shown mercy. Still, some survived, and they’ve been hiding out across Havlands ever since.”

Lessia nodded slowly.

Geyia had told her the same thing back in that cave.

But she didn’t want to stop him now that he’d finally started talking, so she waved for him to go on when he eyed her.

“Like you and me, they’re outcasts… and they’ve grown tired of it. They can’t return to rebuild their home for fear of discovery. They can’t integrate into society…” Ardow leaned his chin in his hands, his gaze fixed on the battered table. “Their numbers started dwindling a few decades ago… until they ran into a group of half-Fae that had managed to flee Vastala. Initially, they fought for the small piece of land both sides wanted to claim, but they soon realized they’d be stronger together—that it would give them the numbers they needed to fight back.”

“Wait—” Venko started, but when Lessia cast him a warning look, he sealed his mouth shut.

Still, a crease marred his forehead as he picked at the bowl before him.

With a quick glance at the merchant, Ardow straightened. “As they began planning for the rebellion, the half-Fae and shifters realized they weren’t so different after all and that there were more people like them all across Havlands—living in Vastala and Ellow. Well… if you can call it living.”

He shot her a penetrating glare, and Lessia had to look away when something stirred inside her.

What Ardow spoke of wasn’t so different from what she’d told Amalise whenever she felt guilty for keeping the children locked up.

But this was different, wasn’t it?

The children were innocent, while these… rebels were not.

The ancestors of the shifters amongst them might not have followed their king.

But the rebels had killed people.

Woven their way into an election to manipulate the process—the will of the people of Ellow.

Is that so different from what you did?

Lessia shook her head as the voice flitted across her thoughts.

She hadn’t had a choice.

These people did.

Merrick was quiet—worryingly quiet—and she glanced his way, finding him glowering at Ardow, his long fingers impatiently tapping his knee.

As if he felt her eyes on him, his gaze shifted to hers, and she nearly flinched at the thunderous darkness swirling in it.

After throwing a sharp glare Ardow’s way, Merrick rasped, “I knew humans were slow, but your friend here has surpassed my expectations.”

A muffled sound left Ardow, and one of Merrick’s silver brows lifted, but his eyes remained locked on hers as he drawled, “What he—very slowly—is trying to say is that this group banded together to overthrow the leaders in Havlands and has been recruiting people across the realm ever since. Some, like Ardow here, believe in their cause, believe that they’re working for a better world… and others, like that one”—he waved toward Venko—“are bribed to help them. That’s what they tried with Loche as well, but apparently he wasn’t as pliable as they’d hoped.”

Lessia tensed when Loche’s name left his lips, and Merrick’s eyes slitted as they followed her raised shoulders down to the shaking hands in her lap.

Shifting so she sat on them, Lessia tore her eyes away and focused on Ardow.

“Is it true?” she whispered.

His nostrils flared as his gaze flitted between her and the Fae beside her. “In his world, perhaps. But he’s right in that I do believe in our cause. We believe in a world where everyone is treated the same! Where part-Fae and shifters and outcasts can all walk the streets and into whichever establishment they want without worrying about being stared at, attacked, or even killed. It’s time for a shift, and it needs to be now! We’re done waiting around for a change that’ll never happen.”

“And you’re trying to accomplish this by killing people who disagree with you? Aren’t you doing the same thing you’re accusing Rioner and L—” Lessia sucked in a breath when the regent’s name stuck in her throat and pinched her thighs to relieve the pain in her chest.

“That you’re accusing the leaders of Havlands of?” she finally got out.

Ardow shook his head, his eyes burning into hers. “I’ve been an outcast my entire life, and I’m done with it! I’m tired of being looked down upon as soon as people realize the heritage I bear. If we need to take drastic measures to get there, so be it! And you should be on our side! How many times have you been called names? How many times have you been hurt by humans and Fae alike?”

He leaned over the table and waved his finger in her face. “Remember why you’re on this ship! Your king and the regent you desperately wanted to believe would treat you fairly forced you on here. How can you not see that we’re the good ones, Lessia!”

Casting her eyes down, she pinched her legs harder as Loche’s cold eyes flashed in her mind.

Take them away , he’d told her .

I only want to remember you as the spy who snaked her way into our election. Nothing else.

She swallowed a whimper as the coldness in Loche’s eyes faded to mere boredom.

He’d finally seen her for what she was.

And good wasn’t the word she’d use.

“Good ones…” Merrick scoffed. “You’re so naive. I’ve lived long enough to learn the belief in inherent goodness is a delusion.”

Ardow shot up. “That’s why you’re trying to stop us? Because you don’t believe shifters can be good? What about halflings? You seem to have stopped trying to kill Lessia, but perhaps that’s just another way to trick us into listening to you?”

“As I’ve been trying to inform your leaders, we also believe in a world where everyone is welcome!” Merrick growled, his hand gripping the edge of the table so hard it shifted with a loud squeak. “But bigger things are happening in Havlands than your little rebellion, and we all need to work together if we’re going to survive them!”

A hollow chuckle left Ardow when Lessia’s eyes snapped to Merrick, but Venko’s injured face paled as he asked, “What do you mean?”

With a huff, Ardow threw himself onto the chair again. “He’s making up wild stories to save that king of his and stop what he knows is coming. Don’t believe a word he tells you.”

Merrick let out a laugh that made Lessia’s skin prickle.

Raising his brows, Merrick ignored the scowling Ardow, keeping his gaze on the increasingly flustered Venko. “How much of what Ardow has now entertained us with has he actually told you? Did you know who you were truly working for? Did you know they’re planning an attack that will end up with more innocent blood spilled? Much, much more.”

Venko shrunk into his seat at the intensity of Merrick’s glare, his blond hair falling into his eyes as he cowered.

“That’s what I thought,” Merrick sneered.

“I couldn’t tell you! Not with Lessia…” Ardow trailed off when Lessia’s eyes found his.

“I’m sorry,” he pleaded. “But it’s true. I was supposed to be the one going into the election, but we had to adjust when we found out what King Rioner had planned for you. I knew too much, and while you hadn’t used your gift on me… we couldn’t risk it.”

Her teeth slammed together as the urge to pound a fist into his face overwhelmed her.

“I told you I’d never,” she gritted.

Ardow’s eyes flashed with pity when hers glossed. “Perhaps not willingly. But you did it to Venko… and I’m guessing you did it to Loche as well, since—”

“I suggest you stop talking now.” Merrick’s voice was soft, but whispers began to reverberate between the walls of the cramped cabin, layering over her skin as they intensified.

“I don’t care who you are! You don’t tell me what—” Ardow started.

She couldn’t stand the arguing, couldn’t stand the raised voices joining the guilt and fear inside her.

And she really couldn’t stand the whispers that seemed to state the same words again and again: It’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault .

It was her fault!

Of course it was her fault.

Lessia closed her eyes and pressed her hands against her ears to drown out the staggering whispers.

“Stop it!” she screamed when her hands did little to quiet them.

After a moment, Merrick’s magic seemed to still, even though the air still flickered with the ancient gift that filled his veins, and Lessia drew a deep breath as she lowered her hands, ignoring the wide-eyed stares from the males around her.

“Stop it,” she said again, quieter this time, but forcing her voice to remain strong.

It was her fault.

It was her fault Loche had banished her.

It was her fault that Amalise and the children had to flee Asker.

It was her fault for getting tangled up with the Fae king—the one thing her father had devoted his life to not happening.

And now she needed to do something about it.

Arguing on a stupid ship in the middle of the Eiatis Sea would be of help to exactly no one.

“None of you will talk unless I say so.” She let the magic brimming under her skin shine through, her golden eyes casting bright shadows across the dark wood as they darted between the three males. “Otherwise, I swear I will break all promises I’ve made and use my damned magic to make each and every one of you tell me your deepest, darkest secrets and use them against you.”

She wouldn’t, but she refused to let them know that when Venko whitened further, and even Ardow leaned back in his chair, his eyes everywhere but on hers.

Merrick shifted beside her, and when she flicked her glowing gaze his way, he met it, but she didn’t miss the flicker of unease in the silver swirls.

“Now that that’s established… Merrick, what is happening in Havlands?”

The Fae hesitated momentarily, and it was enough to stop her from pushing the magic down again.

Instead, she tilted her head and raised a brow in the arrogant way he’d done earlier.

A vein in his neck bulged as he glared back at her, but the whispers didn’t surface again as he finally responded, “We have reason to believe a neighboring realm is planning on invading Havlands.”

A shiver racked her shoulders at the gravity of his tone, but she forced herself to ask, “Why?”

“I don’t know much, only what your father could risk to tell me.” Merrick pulled the cord from his hair, shaking his locks out. “A few years ago, a group of Fae that used to be ruled by a royal family called the Oakgards entered our waters, their ships bearing the mark of what we called the Old World—the realm our kind migrated from a few millennia ago. They asked to speak to King Rioner and informed him that their realm was dying, their lands rotting, their forests burning, their water turning poisonous, and that the people were at a loss for what to do. They asked him for sanctuary in Vastala… but he turned them away, forced them to leave and go back where they came from.”

“So what?” Ardow sneered, but he quieted when Lessia glared at him.

With a low growl that vibrated right through Lessia, Merrick continued. “They were desperate. The king’s brother even got on his knees and begged him to at least take the children… But Rioner refused. He told them they were too many—that he couldn’t risk his own people to save another—one he didn’t even remember.”

Lessia swallowed when the memory of her on her knees before Loche in his office struck her like a dagger to the chest.

Stiffening, Merrick balled his hands on top of his knees. “We believe they’re coming back. That they’re not here to ask nicely but to take our realm by force. If we’re right, Havlands can’t risk not standing united. If we’re in the middle of an uprising… it will be easy for them to pick us off one by one.”

“Does Rioner know?” she asked, driving the image of Loche’s office from her mind.

“He does, and he doesn’t believe it.” Merrick’s lip curled, his sharp teeth rasping against the bottom one. “Your father has seen foreign ships when he’s traveled from your home, but since he can’t say exactly where… Rioner seems to believe it’s L… it’s the regent who somehow wants to intimidate him.”

She realized her magic had faded from her eyes when she stared into Merrick’s dark ones and fear wrapped around her heart like an icy hand.

The fact that her father had even mentioned being somewhere outside the castle Rioner had so graciously given him when he ascended the throne had erased any doubt she might have harbored.

Her father wouldn’t risk the king’s men stumbling across their hidden island—the sanctuary he’d discovered after meeting her mother, and the place he actually called home—the place Rioner knew nothing of, as he had no idea her father only visited the castle a few times a month to keep up appearances.

Especially not if Frelina somehow was alive.

He must be convinced in what he’d told Merrick.

And that meant the people she loved were in more danger than she’d realized.

Not just from the rebellion…

But from an entire other realm.

And Loche…

If Rioner believed he was behind it all…

He was in the most peril of all.

“Is he… is Loche aware?” she made herself ask, even as the mention of his name made her rib cage feel as if it would cave in.

When Merrick’s gaze fell and he shook his head, she couldn’t stand being another minute in the musty cabin.

Shooting upright, she stumbled toward the latch, a cry rising up her throat when she couldn’t get it open right away.