Page 21 of A Promise so Bold and Broken (Compelling Fates Saga #2)

Chapter Twenty-One

“I t’s getting late.” Her father stretched his hands over his head from where he was perched on the chair by the fire Raine had lit, his mouth rounding into a yawn.

They’d all quieted after Lessia’s declaration, their eyes drifting to the raging flames as they sipped on whatever drink they held in their hands, and the energy that had sparked in the room had vanished as quickly as the light in Loche’s eyes when he found out why she was truly in the election.

Rising from the squeaking seat, Alarin gave her a sad smile. “I should go check on your sister.”

Lessia rose as well. “I’ll come with you.”

If she were to take on a whole army, she could face her sister—the girl who’d once been her best friend.

Well, her only friend.

But even though she’d met Amalise and Ardow, and perhaps even Merrick now, Frelina would always come first.

“Elessia.” Her father lowered his voice as he walked up to her. “She needs time when she gets like this. I think it’s perhaps best to wait until morning. We’ll need to stay at least a day to plan. There is time.”

“But…”

Alarin shook his head. “Trust me.”

When she remained quiet, he patted her shoulder, and with a soft “Good night” to the rest of the group, he walked into Frelina’s room and closed the door.

Lessia winced as Frelina’s soft voice traveled through the thick wood, her father’s soothing rumbles following soon after.

It had been thirteen years since she last saw her.

Frelina hadn’t liked being alone back then.

She’d always come to seek Lessia out whenever they fought—even when Lessia was at fault.

But Lessia had also changed in the past years—the happy memories from her youth mere whispers whenever she dreamed of them—so it wasn’t that surprising her little sister had as well.

With a sigh, she threw herself back on the couch, eliciting a low moan from Ardow, who’d fallen asleep on Venko’s shoulder beside her.

Her foot tapped the ground as she watched their sleeping faces, but not even when Venko snuggled closer to her friend could she relax.

“Here.” Raine shoved a cup of brown liquor into her hands. “It’s battle nerves. This helps.”

It wasn’t just nerves, Lessia thought as she lifted the cup to her nose, which scrunched at the harsh smell.

It was the damn weight of the world on her shoulders.

Amalise and the others didn’t even know what was coming.

What if Loche didn’t believe them?

He’d told her he’d kill her if she ever returned to Ellow…

Her fingers clenched around the glass, and without a second thought, she lifted it to her lips and downed the whole thing.

“Shit.”

Unable to hold back a grimace at the burning sensation, she lifted her eyes to Raine’s wide ones.

“What?” she asked after she licked her lips.

“I didn’t think you’d drink it,” Raine said as a smirk replaced his surprised expression. “This will be fun.”

“What will be fun?” Merrick stalked into the room from the kitchen, where he’d done his usual brooding or whatever else he did when that sour mask hardened his features.

Lessia giggled as she studied his drawn-down brows and the muscle that twitched in his jaw.

He was so damn broody.

Merrick’s eyes slowly moved from the glass in her hand to her eyes, and she giggled again when his expression went from sour to murderous. “What the fuck, Raine?”

Raine quickly slipped behind the couch, and Lessia tilted her head back, finding him with palms out and shoulders raised. “It’s fine. She’s half-Fae. It won’t be so bad.”

“I swear, one of these days, I will kill you,” Merrick snarled.

The world began spinning, so Lessia quickly dipped her head back down.

As she eyed the few drops left in her glass, a wave of warmth embraced her, the feeling eerily similar to her mother’s hugs, and Lessia braced herself for the stab of pain at the image of her mother.

But it didn’t come.

Instead, another rush flooded through her.

She blinked as the colors around her softened, the sounds in the house muting.

Oh.

She was drunk.

Or something like it.

She didn’t exactly feel like she did when she drank wine with Ardow and Amalise.

She’d mostly get nostalgic, and then the guilt from what she’d thought she’d done would ruin the buzz.

But this felt good.

Better than good.

Merrick’s grumblings before her touched her ears, and when she stared at him, his entire body vibrated from the vicious sound in his chest.

Reaching out a hand, she placed it on his stomach, and another laugh bubbled out of her when all those muscles he was made up of flexed.

Merrick gripped her hand, removing it from his quivering body. “What are you doing?”

She stuck out her bottom lip. “Come on, Merrick. Don’t ruin this for me.”

“You don’t drink,” he seethed. “This is strong stuff, Lessia. Raine is the only one who can handle it. And that’s because he’s been drinking it for years!”

“Not true.” Kerym tsked as he raised his glass from the chair opposite her. “I’m thoroughly enjoying myself over here.”

“She’ll be fine, Merrick. Look at her. She’s actually smiling.” Raine rested his elbows on the couch so his face leveled with Lessia’s. “Let her have some fun.”

“Yes, Merrick. Let her have some fun,” Lessia parroted as she snatched the glass in Raine’s hand and drank that as well.

“The—” She couldn’t stop a rough cough as the drink burned her throat, but more giggles soon joined the hacking.

Wiping her hand over her mouth as more warmth welled within her, she tried again. “The world is ending. And everybody hates me. Let… let me have some fun. I never have fun.”

Merrick glared at her for a moment while dragging his hands through his shiny hair.

As she watched him, an urge to drag her own hands through it seized her.

It was so sparkly in the firelight.

It’d probably be very soft.

Soft like one of the wolf pups she’d found in the forest when she was younger.

Crouching down before her, Merrick gripped her chin to ensure she stared into his eyes. “Everybody doesn’t hate you.”

“Yes, they do.” Lessia laughed. “My sister does. Loche does. And I can see my father blames me for my mother’s death. I left Amalise and the children I’m responsible for—they must also hate me.”

She was sure of it, but the liquor didn’t let any of the guilt or sorrow fester.

Lessia found Raine’s dancing hazel eyes when he grinned at her.

She was beginning to understand why he refused to go a second without this.

It helped.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been so quick to judge him.

Moving her face back to his, Merrick said softly, “You’re wrong.”

“It doesn’t matter. I feel amazing!” As she shrugged, Lessia offered him a broad smile, and Merrick’s eyes widened.

“That’s great and all, but some of us are trying to sleep,” Ardow muttered from her side, and she slapped a hand over her mouth not to burst out laughing when one of his sleepy eyes opened to glare at her.

Raine’s hand clasped her shoulder. “There are some kind of festivities every night at the tavern. I say we go. I’m sure the weeks ahead of us will be all but festive.”

The tavern.

It sounded perfect!

She’d been too worried last time.

But now?

She wasn’t afraid of some dumb Fae.

“Can we?” she begged Merrick, adding, “Please?” when he hesitated.

When he threw his head back with a groan, his silver hair billowed across his shoulders, and she watched in wonder as the pearly strands caught the light, dancing freely in contrast to his sharp features.

“Fine.” Merrick sighed. “But do not blame me for how you’ll feel tomorrow.”

Lessia flew up from the couch and was about to hug him when he stepped back, something she couldn’t read fighting over his features.

With another shrug, she hugged herself instead, savoring the warmth softening her limbs.

Kerym also rose, and the thumps as he patted Merrick’s back echoed through the room. “We’ve known each other for centuries, and I was never able to convince you to join us in our drinking escapades! I’m unsure whether I should be upset or happy for you.”

“Kerym,” Raine warned as he ushered them all out the door.

Lessia’s eyes sliced between the two Fae males, but then the chill breeze brushed her arms, and she nearly squealed as the saltiness tickled her bare skin as she walked out into the night.

Every step through the island was one of wonder.

How could she not have appreciated the smooth rocks that formed a pathway through the swaying hip-height grass?

Or the birds: the eagles and the hooting owls that peeked at them from the tall trees strewn out as they ventured further inland?

Even the somewhat crumbling stone wall surrounding the small town was beautiful in the dim light of the lantern Merrick carried as he walked beside her.

“You ready?” Raine’s brows danced as he reached to open the door to the tavern.

Nodding, Lessia skipped by him, stepping right over the small step and into the warmth.

Her wide eyes took in the bustling room.

It wasn’t as busy as it had been during Zehmkell, but it was still filled with Fae, and she was happy to find the eyes that snagged on her quickly moved along, although she could see they lingered on the three males behind her.

Spending time with the lethal brotherhood, or whatever they were called, apparently had great benefits.

Without waiting for the others, she sprinted up to the bar.

“Can I have something that will keep me feeling like this?” Lessia pointed to her smile when the barkeep nodded toward her.

“Certainly.” A grin spread across the Fae’s face as he poured the golden liquor she’d seen Merrick drink into a tall glass.

Placing it on the sticky surface before her, he reached out his palm, and Lessia slapped her hand over her mouth, her eyes rounding. “Oh no. I don’t have any silvers!”

Another breathy giggle escaped her as the Fae looked over her shoulder and waved his hand.

“Put it on my tab.” Raine sidled up next to her. “And get three more of those.”

After spinning around, Lessia leaned her elbows on the bar and took small sips of whatever the barkeep had given her.

It tasted much better than Raine’s brownish liquor.

Or maybe she was just getting used to it.

It didn’t matter either way.

If she could feel like this just for a little while longer—whatever the taste, it was worth it.

Her eyes drifted toward the packed dance floor, where most Fae danced by themselves, not in couples as they had during Zehmkell, and before she could second-guess herself, she exclaimed, “I’m dancing!”

Swallowing the last of the drink, she pressed the empty glass into Merrick’s hand as he joined Raine by the bar and made her way over.

A few people moved out of the way as she approached, but it didn’t seem it was because she was half-Fae.

No, the smiles on their faces were welcoming, and she beamed back at them.

They were making room for her.

With a happy sigh, Lessia closed her eyes, stretched out her arms, and let the music take her away.

The melody was unknown to her, the tunes drifting high for a moment before lowering—building the anticipation—until the sound swelled, growing richer and richer, as if the music was gathering strength until it reached its peak.

When the climax boomed through the room, she spun—faster and faster—ignoring the beads of sweat forming at her temples and how her cheeks began aching from laughing.

It didn’t even make her nauseated, so she pushed her body to whirl faster, a delighted squeal leaving her when her feet obeyed.

As the song faded, she slowed her movements until she halted in sync with the music.

The sense of happiness filled her entirely, as if stopping had bottled it all up inside her.

Lessia opened her eyes and joined in the clapping from the Fae around her, then moved to lean her back against the wall to catch her breath as the music shifted into a slow song and the Fae around her pulled each other close.

She shook her head when a blond Fae eyed her questioningly, throwing him an apologetic smile as she gestured toward the wall and mouthed, “Maybe later.”

She didn’t want to dance with anyone else.

Not right now.

Doing it by herself felt… freeing somehow.

As if she could do this.

Not just the dance but… life.

A prickling sensation whispered over her face when she drew a happy breath, and as she lifted her eyes, Merrick’s dark ones collided with hers, knocking the breath right back out of her again with their intensity.

A frown pulled at her features.

There was something different about him.

She continued meeting the unsettling darkness that was his eyes as she tried to understand what it was.

Softness.

It was softness, she decided.

While his face would always be sharp, with that strong jaw and high cheekbones, that boyishness she’d seen when he’d been sleeping after she helped clean his wounds or when he played with her in the water peeked through.

He was beautiful.

She’d always known he was.

He was Fae, after all.

But tonight?

He was every bit the strong Fae warrior she’d heard of.

But he was also a male.

A friend.

He was Merrick.

A fire kindled within her the longer he held her gaze captive, those starlike flecks in his eyes sparkling from across the room.

It was as if they were talking to her…

But she couldn’t hear what they were saying.

At the same time she took a step toward him to ask—to understand—Merrick jumped down from the chair he’d sat upon, their movements so synchronized a shocked laugh bubbled up within her.

Her eyes didn’t leave his as he walked toward her, and she held her breath until dizziness made her vision blurry.

Shakily releasing it, she reached out a hand when Merrick halted before her.

When he glanced at it for a moment, she whispered, “I’m not making you dance, I promise.”

The low chuckle leaving him rumbled through her, and her body trembled when his warm hand wrapped around hers.

“But I am.”

Merrick’s gravelly response made her sway, and he had to steady her when she stared up at him.

“You… you’re what?” Lessia asked, that lightheadedness returning when Merrick tugged at her hand, turning her back toward the dance floor.

“Dancing.”

“But…” Lessia frowned at him, bringing them both to a halt. “You don’t dance.”

She must be drunker than she’d thought.

Merrick laughed, a rough, quiet laugh. “I’ll make an exception.”

She was about to ask why when the question stuck in her throat.

Something dangerous flashed in Merrick’s eyes.

And it wasn’t the danger of battle or even magic but… something even more perilous.

Something she wasn’t sure she was ready for.

So instead, she nodded, expecting him to drag her out to the other dancing couples.

But Merrick nudged her back to the spot by the wall where she’d rested after her first wild dance.

When her back was nearly touching it, he stilled and pulled her into his arms so gently her mouth would have fallen open if she hadn’t caught it.

Wrapping her own arms around his neck, she let him align their bodies so every inch touched the others, and when he began moving from side to side, the movement so slight it was barely making her shift her weight, she smiled into his shoulder.

It wasn’t the dancing her father had taught her growing up.

It wasn’t Loche’s elaborate moves.

It was Merrick.

It was trust.

It was assurance.

It was friendship.

It was…

Her breath hitched when Merrick’s cheek brushed hers, and she could feel his muscles growing taut as her heartbeat surged.

His stubble scratched against the sensitive skin just beneath her chin, and she tried to suck in a breath—tried to breathe, but it proved impossible.

She needed air.

That must be it.

It was so warm in here.

Dragging Merrick with her, she led them toward the back of the tavern, toward one of the empty benches that still stood around the lit fireplace, stopping only to allow Merrick to pick up his cup from the bar beside Raine and Kerym.

Once they got out, air traveled into her lungs again, and Lessia plopped herself down on the wood with a soft sigh.

When Merrick only hovered before her, she gave him a pointed look.

As he rolled his eyes and went to sit, she playfully snatched his glass out of his hand and took a large sip, grateful when the eerie heat continued to push any unpleasant emotions she might feel away.

It was nice not caring for once.

The alcohol was a distraction.

She knew that.

But she needed one right now.

Especially since she wouldn’t be able to afford them once they set off for Ellow.

Lessia released another breath as she gave the near-empty glass back, and her eyes once again snagged on the soft waves layering across Merrick’s leather-clad shoulders.

They looked so soft.

And now the moon played in them…

Or perhaps they played with the moon?

“What are you thinking about?” Merrick asked after he drained the rest of the glass.

“Whether I’m allowed to pet you.”

Her mouth fell open when she heard herself utter the words, but no heat crept up her cheeks, and she once again thanked the drink swirling inside her.

“You… you’re asking if you can pet me?” Merrick asked, and she knew she should have been worried about his low tone, but still, no sense of apprehension rippled across her skin.

“It’s just your hair looks so soft and shiny, and I thought it would be nice to pet,” she tried to explain.

A muscle in Merrick’s jaw ticked—in the same way it did before he contemplated slamming her into the ground when they trained—so when he said “Fine,” her brows nearly flew up to her hairline.

But she wasn’t about to risk him changing his mind by asking if he was sure, so instead, she lifted her hand and cautiously ran her fingers through the inviting strands on the side of his head.

She’d been right.

They were as soft as they were beautiful.

Like warm butter drifting through her fingers.

When she moved toward his neck, her fingertips brushed his scalp, and she stilled when a shiver went through him.

Peeking at him through her lashes, she realized Merrick had closed his eyes, those wrinkles usually twisting the skin between his brows nowhere to be seen.

Her heart began beating so hard she glanced down at her chest.

And when she looked back up…

Her entire body froze at the look in Merrick’s eyes.

The black was all-consuming, but it wasn’t like a great fall right into their depths.

It was subtler, more gradual.

Like the sky that swirled there wanted her to surrender.

Willingly.

The world around them blurred at the edges, and Lessia didn’t think as she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his.

His lips were even softer than his hair.

Full, smooth, and melting against hers.

She couldn’t stop herself from pressing her own harder against them, even as bells began ringing inside her mind, warning her against what she was doing.

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected.

But Merrick letting out a low moan and weaving his hands into her hair… wasn’t it.

His soft kiss was like a fever blooming across her skin, and a raw need, a need to be close to him, possessed her—consumed her.

Crawling into his lap, she locked her legs around his waist and deepened the kiss, desperate to get closer—to fuse their lips further, to merge their bodies as one.

If the alcohol had been a distraction…

This was something else entirely.

It didn’t even matter when the memory of Loche kissing her that first time surfaced.

If she could just have this, she could forget everything else.

She didn’t even care about Loche anymore.

Merrick was the greatest distraction.

“What did you say?” Merrick rasped against her mouth.

She tried to quiet him by brushing her lips against his once more, but Merrick pulled back, the hands in her hair holding her steady—and refusing her when she tried to look away from his hard eyes.

“I-I didn’t say anything,” she whispered.

Merrick’s jaw locked as he shook his head. “You did.”

He swore quietly as he moved her off his lap and back onto the bench. “You said I was the greatest distraction. That you didn’t even care about Loche anymore.”

“I didn’t…” Lessia started, but when Merrick raised his brows, she sealed her lips.

Shit…

She must have said it out loud.

And… she had used him as a distraction.

Hadn’t she?

“I—” Lessia swallowed as the warmth drained from her veins, crushing, cold guilt surging in its stead.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered in a shaky voice.

Merrick dipped his chin as he rose, his hands so tightly clenched that she wondered if he was contemplating slamming one into her face.

But Merrick only shot her a final glance that chilled her blood.

Not from fear…

No.

From the pain simmering in his black eyes.

Then he spun on his heel, his long strides quickly taking him back into the light of the tavern.