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

Chapter Two

A s she gripped the wooden railing and stared out over the furious waves crashing against the port, she struggled to hold back the scream building inside her from the emotions pressing against her chest, threatening to boil over like a pot left too long on the stove.

And when the faces of her loved ones—Amalise, her parents, Frelina, Kalia, Fiona and all the other children, and finally… Loche—consumed her thoughts, the sensation continued to mount until it felt as if she would break apart into a million tiny pieces if she didn’t let some of it out.

So, with her eyes on the gray horizon, she did.

Lessia let every ounce of guilt and fear and frustration fuel the piercing cry as it drifted across the ripples of water.

She screamed for the family she’d left behind in Vastala, for the friends she’d abandoned in Ellow, for the regent she’d betrayed, for the king she’d been too weak to fight, for the contradictory emotions churning inside as she took in what Ardow had told her.

But most of all, she screamed for the helplessness she felt as Merrick’s warning of war lodged itself in her throat.

She didn’t doubt he’d spoken true.

That Havlands and those she loved in it were in danger.

And with her being banished and traveling with three fugitives…

There was little she could do to get King Rioner and Loche to believe it.

A sound from the upper deck startled her as she caught her breath, and she whirled around to find one of the men in the crew operating the ship staring at her with wide eyes.

Smoothing out the hair blowing around her face, she hissed, “Can I help you?”

The man nearly tripped as he backed away, the color of his face fading with every step, and she realized her eyes must have shifted into gold when a soft glow broke through the mist traveling across the wooden deck.

Sighing, she turned back toward the water, clutching the worn wood so hard splinters bit into her palms.

But she welcomed the pain.

Welcomed anything that could distract her from the crippling powerlessness that lay heavy on her chest.

A warm hand touched her lower back, and the smell of salt and wet wood mixed with Merrick’s untamed scent as he took up the spot to her right.

When she glanced at him, the sheen of her eyes illuminated his hard features and the pearly hair trailing over his shoulders.

His eyes met hers briefly before they shifted out over the sea. “Did that make you feel better?”

She was nearly overcome by the urge to slap him, but as she lifted her hand, he moved faster than she’d ever seen anyone do, his fingers locking around her wrist before she had time to blink.

Pulling her against him, he glared at her. “Have you learned nothing of what I tried to teach you? You need to be in control. Of your movements. Of your emotions. Of your magic. Of yourself. If you’re planning to take out your anger on me, do it right!”

When Merrick released her, she took a step back from his rumbling chest.

Moving her eyes to her boots, she drew a shaky breath, trying to rein in the emotions drawing up her magic.

She knew heightened states of mind drove magic to the surface to protect its wielder—had had more practice suppressing it than using it.

But right now, suppressing it was proving difficult.

When the light brightening the wood finally dimmed, she lifted her gaze again.

Merrick had shifted his glare to the dark clouds building in the north, the swirling white sheets beneath them betraying the snowstorm heading for Ellow.

She rubbed her arms when a brisk wind whipped around them, blowing Merrick’s hair out of his face and the torn cloak he wore toward the stern.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered when his tense shoulders didn’t lower and the angrily set jaw didn’t soften.

“I do not need an apology. You’re entitled to be angry. Gods, you’re entitled to be fucking furious. But you’re not entitled to be reckless with it.”

When she remained quiet, Merrick moved to lean his elbows on the railing, his eyes meeting hers again as he laced his fingers together. “Unless Raine kills us for entering his waters, we’ll start training again as soon as we arrive. You need to learn how to feel your emotions, especially the negative ones—the sadness and grief and fear—and use those feelings to control what you do with them. You’re Fae. Our emotions are too strong to be pushed down for long. Especially the negative ones…” Merrick sighed. “You have power, Lessia. More than you think. You just need to learn how to harness it.”

Power…

She nearly scoffed, but then Loche’s betrayed face flickered in her mind, and it felt as if someone ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it, smashed it into a pool of crimson to allow it to drip through the planks they stood upon.

She sucked in a breath of salty air.

She couldn’t let those emotions in.

No.

Not without breaking down.

And she didn’t have that luxury.

There were people depending on her.

Perhaps more people than she’d expected, since she believed what Merrick had spoken was true.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced Loche from her mind—forced herself to focus on the anger that had consumed her before.

Merrick sighed again when she opened them, his features hardening when she didn’t respond.

As he watched her for a moment, something she couldn’t read flashed in his eyes. “It seems we need also to practice using your gift. You require more control over it if you plan to continue to threaten us with it.”

She started shaking her head but stilled when Merrick’s eyes narrowed.

“There may be a time when we’ll need you to use it,” he said softly.

Lessia didn’t respond as he straightened and brushed off some drops of water that had landed on the green tunic he wore beneath his cloak.

She had threatened them in there, but only because her frustrations got the better of her.

She would never use it on a friend again.

Now that she was no longer forced to by the blood oath, she could choose never to use it on anyone again.

She gripped the railing once more when another wave of fury roiled inside her.

All her magic did was destroy and hurt and betray.

“Lessia.” Merrick took a step toward her. “The gods gifted it to you for a reason. You do not need to be frightened of it. It’s not evil or good. It’s nothing but a power to be molded by its wielder. A power to be used carefully, yes. But not to be suppressed or forgotten about.”

“The gods are gone!” she snapped. “They don’t partake in our world anymore. They don’t care for us! And especially not us halflings !”

Bridging the final distance between them and crowding her against the railing, Merrick stared down at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching as an angry tear snaked its way down her cheek.

Lessia furiously wiped it away, wondering how she’d ever wished to be able to cry again.

It was stupid.

Weak.

And she didn’t have time for either of those things.

“If you believe that, you’re not as clever as I thought,” he said quietly as he lifted a hand and used his thumb to brush away another treacherous drop.

Merrick watched it for a moment before he let the tear fall into the dark waves.

Cupping her chin, he lifted her eyes to his again. “The gods may not show themselves anymore, but they’re here. They’re in every creature in our world, in all the beauty and the ugliness, in good and evil, in glory and flaws. And they are most certainly in you. They choose a person’s gift for a reason, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t question mine for a long time. Truth be told, I still question it—but I wield it, Lessia. I decide what it is and what it isn’t.”

She swallowed as Merrick stepped back. “You didn’t kill your sister. I don’t know how she survived, but perhaps it was the gods’ way of teaching you to respect your gift. Showing you the darker side should you turn to it.”

Her brows drew together. “So you’re saying I should be grateful for the gods forcing me onto the streets of Vastala? For making me live in darkness for years in Rioner’s cellars? Perhaps for me getting banished from every home I’ve ever known?”

Merrick raised a brow when her magic stirred, and she snarled when light filled her eyes again and an urge to tell him to shut his mouth crashed through her.

When she stepped toward him, warning whispers boomed through the mist, and oily tendrils snaked their way around her arms, forcing her trembling body to a stop.

But he didn’t avert his eyes as his glacial voice broke through the fog overtaking her mind. “I won’t pity you. We forge our own fates. While the gods might give us gifts, it’s up to us what we do with them. We always have a choice.”

“So was it your choice to chain yourself to Rioner, then?” she taunted as heat crept up her neck.

The air stilled, and a shiver skittered down her spine when Merrick’s magic tightened its grip.

But just as fast it released her, the wind and the water hitting the sides of the ship soon the only thing filling her ears.

“It was my choice, yes.” Merrick’s voice barely traveled over the gusting breeze as he spun around to walk back inside.

Her stomach churned at the sorrow that seeped into his scent, and before she knew what she was doing, she gripped one of his large hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he turned his head over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He didn’t respond, only stared at her with those star-filled eyes.

When his wild, mourning scent continued to whirl around them, she threw her head back and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she reiterated. “It’s been a rough few days.”

She didn’t dare look at him when she heard his feet shuffle, but a little bit of warmth clawed itself into her chest when they brought him closer, the sadness lacing the air fading.

“Enough with the apologies. And… I’d say you’ve had a rough few years.”

Her eyes flew to his, and her heart leaped when a crooked smile brightened his features.

Pulling at her hand, he led her back to the railing. “While I won’t pity you, I told you—you are entitled to be angry.”

Merrick let go of her hand to lean his arms on the railing, letting out a breath as he stared down the stained wood of the hull. “Gods know I’ve been angry for a long time. Furious at my fate and the decisions I made. But I can’t change the past. I can only use that anger to direct the future. You need to learn how to do that as well. How to direct your emotions before they direct you.”

Her eyes wandered from the pearly strands of hair the wind played with, to his delicately pointed ears, over his high cheekbones and slightly parted full lips, and that feeling that he understood her, perhaps better than anyone else, layered around her.

Shifting so she mirrored his position, she listened to the waves hitting the side of the ship.

She was angry.

At her fate.

But also at herself.

Merrick was right—even if the gods had bestowed on her the stupid gift, she had made the choices leading to where she was today.

She was the one who hadn’t listened to her father’s advice to manage her emotions, especially as she neared the age when magic manifested, to avoid situations exactly like the one she’d believed she’d caused that day with her sister.

Stealing a glance at him, she whispered, “How do you know my sister is alive?”

Merrick’s eyes drifted her way. “I saw her once.”

He hesitated for a moment. “King Rioner had me follow your father a few years ago. He suspected he was hiding something, and it didn’t take me long to find your home. It was easy, even.”

He let out a low laugh as he shook his head. “But as soon as I stepped onto the island, Alarin trapped me. He’d intended for me to find him all along. Rioner didn’t realize we’d gotten to know each other during the many years I was in his service… that we’d become friends, even. And apparently it was on purpose. Alarin needed someone close to Rioner, and I wanted out, so we decided to work together. We had to be careful with what he told me, but I learned of the stirring rebellion and the other threats against our realm, and Alarin provided me with enough secrets that Rioner was kept satisfied and I could leave out the other things I saw. Including your little sister.”

Lessia shook her head, her thoughts whirling.

It didn’t sound like her father to take such a risk, even if he considered Merrick a friend.

Rioner could have easily forced Merrick to tell him every detail he’d learned.

And he’d worked too hard to keep her, her mother, and Frelina hidden.

Merrick moved to face her. “It was a risk he had to take.”

One corner of his mouth quirked when her eyes widened. “He wouldn’t have done it if he believed another option existed. The threats we’re facing are real, Lessia. He’s protecting your family against them.”

Glancing down at her laced fingers, she asked quietly, “Can we go see them?”

It was quiet for so long she wondered if Merrick had left without her noticing, but then he finally cleared his throat. “I think it might have been your father who turned me in that night.”

“What?” She slipped on the wet planks as she spun around. “He wouldn’t do that!”

Her father was nothing if not loyal to those he loved.

He’d rather die than hurt them.

“He would if someone more dear to him was in danger.” Merrick placed a hand on her shoulder to steady her, and his grip tightened as he continued.

“You were nowhere near to figuring out what King Rioner wanted to know. He knew that someone close to him must have been betraying him. Too much confidential information was leaked for him not to figure it out.”

“What do you mean?” She stared from his hand to his eyes as her heart began pounding.

Merrick sighed. “We had to get the rebels to trust us if we would ever convince them to stand down so we could face the Oakgards’ Fae together. And the only way was giving them something they wanted…” His hand dropped to his side. “Rioner would have never let you go unless whoever it was, was captured.”

“But my father doesn’t remember me,” she whispered.

If Frelina was alive, she would have told them.

The small voice in her mind made a lump form in her throat.

But if they knew…

Why hadn’t her father come for her?

Of course he wouldn’t come for you.

He blamed you for what you did.

Rightfully so.

Lessia swallowed against the thickness, trying to tell herself that wasn’t true.

“I don’t think he knew, or at least suspected, until he saw you,” Merrick said softly as pity darkened his eyes. “I told you before—you were a child. Even if you’d killed her, they wouldn’t have blamed you. And I’ve seen the love Alarin holds for his family. He would have turned these lands upside down to find you if he knew.”

She sniffed as Merrick picked up a lock of her bronze hair, twining it between his long fingers. “You are a mirror of your sister, Lessia. Alarin isn’t dumb. He knew something was off the moment he met you.”

A knot formed in her stomach when Merrick sighed again. “We need to go somewhere safe to figure out our next steps, and while Raine might not welcome us with open arms, I’m hoping he’ll not turn us in as soon as he sees us.”