Page 14 of A Promise so Bold and Broken (Compelling Fates Saga #2)

Chapter Fourteen

S he wiped her forehead as she walked beside Merrick and Raine up the small path from the beach.

They’d been training every day for a week, and while she’d not stabbed Merrick again, she’d gotten better at handling the Vincere—which she’d gathered was the name of the liquid Rioner’s father had invented.

Not that Merrick had held her stabbing him against her.

On the contrary, he urged her daily to do it again.

But she couldn’t.

Anger might be the only thing keeping her upright right now—especially with all the emotions draining her, thanks to waiting for her father’s response, not knowing how Amalise and the rest were faring, and wondering how her family would react when she undid her magic…

But Merrick didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of it.

While she couldn’t necessarily describe him as kind—not with how he growled and barked at her when she lost focus trying to withstand his or Raine’s attacks—he at least didn’t push her outside of training.

Not like Ardow, who, after that night when she’d let him sleep in her room like old times, hadn’t stopped asking her about Loche and what happened in that room.

He believed she needed to “talk it out.”

Relive the memories so that she could move past them.

As if her dreams at night weren’t filled with cold gray eyes, stolen moments in a cave, and the shattering of her heart as a wooden door slammed shut behind her.

It had gotten to the point that Lessia flew up from bed every day at the first trickles of sunlight through her window, grabbed something to go from Raine’s quickly emptying kitchen, and spent the morning running up and down the beach until Merrick and Raine showed up to continue painting her body black and blue every time they overpowered her.

She stretched her arms over her head, wincing at their soreness.

Each night, she’d stumble into bed, exhausted and with every limb aching.

Lessia sighed.

And they hadn’t even begun incorporating their magic into training yet…

A gagging sound ripped Lessia from her thoughts, and when she glanced to the side, Raine was doubled over, his hands pushing into the tall dune beside them as he emptied his stomach onto the powdery sand.

Her nose scrunched when the harsh stench of alcohol assaulted her senses, and she backed up a step as he continued retching.

Raine very unwillingly participated in her training, and even while circling her, he’d take sips from that beloved flask of his.

At least she wasn’t in as bad a state as he was, she thought as she retreated farther to avoid getting sprayed by the droplets of his expulsions.

“Don’t judge him too harshly.”

Turning her head over her shoulder, she met Merrick’s eyes, and warmth spread over her cheeks at the look in them. “I wasn’t—”

“You were,” Merrick said quietly.

Gripping her shoulders, he turned her back toward Raine, who’d sat down against the dune, panting as he scrambled to pull the cork on the flask and take another drag of it.

“He used to be one of the most powerful Fae in Havlands,” Merrick whispered, his warm breath tickling her neck. “So powerful even Rioner’s father didn’t dare stand against him.”

Stepping closer so his chest lined up with her back, Merrick continued, his voice barely carrying over the salty breeze. “No war, no torture, no pain could break him. That’s love. That’s what it does to you. To love someone and have them love you back… only to lose them…”

Lessia’s breath caught in her throat when Merrick shuddered behind her.

“Did you… did you lose someone?” she whispered, keeping her eyes on Raine as he stuffed the flask into his sweat-stained tunic.

She wasn’t sure if she’d be strong enough if she saw Merrick’s darkness fill with pain, like the pools of agony that were Raine’s eyes whenever he saw her dressed in Solana’s clothes.

A breeze traveled across her skin when Merrick hesitated.

It was quiet for so long that she would have suspected that Merrick had stormed off if his soft breaths didn’t continue to drift through her hair.

“You can’t lose someone if you’ve never had them,” he finally responded.

A lump formed in her throat at the sorrow lacing his voice, and something brushed her senses, sending a prickling sensation across her skin.

Lessia bit back the question at the tip of her tongue, thankful for the screech that burst through the air, interrupting the strange silence.

She whipped her head up at the same time as Merrick stepped back, the coldness he left behind forcing her to stop herself from shivering.

An eagle soared through the air from the sea, circling a few times before it landed on Raine’s outstretched arm.

Her eyes widened when she realized the feathers covering its body were the usual brown—like the eagles she’d seen in both Ellow and Vastala—but those lining its head were bright gold, shimmering in the afternoon sunlight.

Raine patted the eagle’s wing before plucking a small white parchment tied to its leg.

“Looks like Alarin responded.” Raine held out the letter to Merrick, who’d stalked up to him.

After reading it, Merrick rolled it up again, and she thought her blood might freeze to ice when he said, “They’re coming here tomorrow.”

Raine wiggled his brows. “Didn’t trust you to come to his island?”

“He didn’t say,” Merrick responded.

It felt as if her knees would buckle.

Her father was coming here.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow, she’d have to face what she’d done to him.

To her mother.

To Frelina.

Black spots danced before her eyes and she thought she might faint, when a strong arm snaked across her back.

Glancing up, she could barely make out Merrick’s tight face as he mouthed something.

She shook her head as she stared back at him, the blood rushing in her ears drowning all other sounds.

Clasping her chin to stop the movement, Merrick glared right into her eyes. “I’ve told you before. You’re stronger than you think.”

Lessia only blinked.

“After all you’ve been through, you’re strong enough to handle this.” Merrick captured her with his gaze. “You made it out of Rioner’s cellars. You escaped the blood oath. You even survived the election and L…” He trailed off, his eyes hardening when she stiffened.

The fingers holding her chin tensed, but when he moved them to cup her heated cheek, they were gentle.

“Trust me,” he whispered. “You are strong enough.”

She wanted to look away from the swirling flecks, the silver reminding her too much of another pair of eyes, darker, which had once held the same conviction of her strength.

But when some of that certainty flowed into her, the hushed words working to pierce the shell of doubt that pressed on her chest, she squared her shoulders.

It wasn’t like she had a choice.

She had to be strong enough.

There was no other way.

“Well, she needs to be strong to handle tonight.” Raine smirked.

She moved her gaze his way. Her face must have betrayed her confusion as he offered, “It’s Zehmkell tonight, and the Fae living on the other side of the island like to celebrate.”

A groan left Merrick as he dropped his hand from her cheek. “I’d forgotten you still celebrate.”

“Wh-what is Zehmkell?” she asked hoarsely, pushing the dread deep down into the dark abyss that held on to all the pain and hurt and fear she’d experienced through the years.

When Raine’s lips curled into a mocking smirk, she frowned.

She recognized the name but couldn’t place where she’d heard it before.

“It’s a tradition amongst Fae soldiers.” Merrick sighed. “It’s said the gods encouraged it to strengthen the bond between Fae before battle.”

“But now it’s merely an excuse to drink and fuck once a month.” Raine snickered.

She fought with everything in her to keep a blush from spreading across her face when Raine wiggled his brows.

But she mustn’t have succeeded because Raine burst out laughing, and when even Merrick let out a muffled sound, she gritted her teeth.

Stupid males.

Stupid damned bastards.

While she waited for Raine to calm down, her fingers flexed, twitching toward the daggers by her waist, and she wondered whether her decision not to stab any of them again had been a bit hasty.

“Perhaps you should stay back?” Raine asked when he stopped laughing. “If you can’t even hear the word fuck without looking like you stayed out a little too long in the sun, Zehmkell isn’t a place for you.”

The thought had also crossed her mind, but being alone in her room with only the thoughts of her father arriving with the next sunup keeping her company made her shake her head.

Raine chuckled again. “You sure? I know some of my friends back there will be happy to see Merrick, and I’m quite certain they won’t mind the two humans either. They’re handsome for not being Fae. You might have to face the night alone, little broken one. I’m not so certain you can handle it.”

Rage struck her like a bolt of lightning.

She felt like punching Raine’s smug face as heat, and not from embarrassment, flooded her veins, and a growl built inside her as she took a step toward him.

“She’ll be fine,” Merrick snarled, gripping her arm. “Enough.”

“I’m merely stating facts.” Raine innocently rounded his eyes. “In fact, I know someone who will be very happy to see you, Merrick, so you won’t be able to babysit her for long.”

There wasn’t anything human about the growl that burst through her.

The vicious sound traveled across the beach and crystal sea, and only because Merrick’s hand locked around her arm did she not rip Raine’s damned head off.

Ydren popped her head over the calm surface, and her screech was enough to snap Lessia out of the haze that had overtaken her mind.

Staring at the terrifying creature, she drew a shaky breath.

Her body continued fighting against Merrick’s hold as she drew another one, but when she got to the third, she could finally feel her muscles relax, the sand swirling around her feet trickling down to join the millions of other grains across the beach.

“So angry, even after a full day of training.” Raine smirked, but when Merrick growled in warning, he rolled his eyes. “You might want to rein in that temper tonight. My friends do not take well to being threatened.”

“I said enough, Raine.” Merrick’s whispers emphasized his edged tone, and the gentle wind filled with oily vibrations.

A shudder made its way down her spine when the air around her began gleaming, and she wondered if those shimmers were some type of veil, keeping the dead souls from their world.

Pushing the thought out of her mind, she focused on Raine again.

Perhaps she didn’t want to know.

“Fine.” Glancing at the wyvern swimming by the shoreline, Raine rolled his neck. “Ydren tells me you were quite angry when you used your magic on her as well.” He tsked. “Compelling a poor, innocent wyvern… That wasn’t very nice of you.”

Lessia flashed her teeth at him, trying to quench a new wave of fury directed at the Fae warrior. “It wasn’t very nice of her to try to kill me either.”

“She protects me.” Raine shrugged. “She didn’t know you; you could have been a threat.” His eyes traveled over her, even with another warning snarl from Merrick. “I haven’t met anyone who could control wyverns before.”

“You must have done it to make her so loyal to you,” Lessia hissed through her teeth. “She is lonely here. I’m sure she wouldn’t stay if you weren’t forcing her.”

“Lessia,” Merrick warned quietly.

Raine snapped his eyes to hers, his jaw tensing. “I am not forcing her to do anything! Her family is dead.”

Lessia swallowed as she shot a look at the still-swimming wyvern.

“Yes, it hadn’t crossed your mind that I am protecting her right back?” Raine took a step toward her. “I saved her life when some shifters slaughtered her family. They ripped her mother’s head off right before her eyes and struck her sister with so many arrows that the weight of them made it impossible to recover her body.”

He took another step, and Merrick’s fingers tightened around her arm.

“When those rebels came here, she was so frightened by their shifter leader, it took me days to find her. She’d crept into a cave so small she nearly couldn’t leave it. I almost drowned getting her out of there.”

“I didn’t know,” Lessia whispered, the greasy feeling of guilt that lathered across her skin worse than any dust and sand sticking to it from training.

“No, you just assumed.” Raine’s hazel eyes were so cold that she stepped back into Merrick’s chest. “Our dear gods gave the Fae royals stones: fucking sparkling stones that were meant for us to communicate—bond—with the wyverns. They abused what was meant to be a sacred bond—lied to the wyverns to get them to fight for us in whatever damn war was going on. Thousands of them died out of loyalty to a family that wouldn’t care if their enemies plucked off every single scale on their babes’ bodies.”

Merrick’s chest heaved against her back, each breath moving in rhythm with her breaking heart, and she might have fallen to the sand in a heap of shame if his arms hadn’t wrapped around her waist.

When a tear slid down her cheek as she glanced at Ydren, who’d begun swimming away, Raine nodded. “Don’t assume you know me, or anyone for that matter, because of what you see.”

“I’m sorry,” she got out in a choked voice.

Anger flared inside her again.

But this time, it was directed at herself.

She knew better than this.

Raine uncorked his flask and swallowed a few mouthfuls before he responded. “We should all be sorry that we were born into the cruel world. But we have to make the best out of it.” Waving at them, he started up the beach. “Come on, you must clean up and change before Zehmkell.”

When Lessia only stared after him, unable to move, Merrick’s hand slipped into hers, and he gently tugged on it so she would follow him toward the cabin.

“I told you not to judge him too harshly.” Merrick’s eyes were soft as they followed his friend’s swaying steps.

She stared at her dusty boots as they made their way up the narrow path.

She had judged him.

She’d done what she’d asked—no, begged!—people in Ellow not to do to her.

As he slowed his strides, Merrick’s warm gaze landed on her. “Don’t judge yourself too harshly either. You don’t deserve it.”

Lessia didn’t respond—only forced her feet to continue moving, one step after another.

She wasn’t so sure Merrick was right this time.

Not when the suffocating sense of shame followed her all the way to the house.