Page 23 of A Promise so Bold and Broken (Compelling Fates Saga #2)

Chapter Twenty-Three

L essia realized why Raine never let go of his bottle as she gripped the wooden bucket with both hands, vomiting bile and whatever liquor remained in her stomach.

Wiping her mouth with a shaky hand, she forced her equally trembly legs to straighten.

She needed a bath.

Preferably an ice-cold one to drive the thickness in her head away.

Without bothering to put anything else on besides the undergarments she’d slept in, only grabbing a towel from the small closet in her room and half-heartedly holding it against her chest, Lessia sneaked out of her room.

It was still early, dawn probably an hour or so away.

But she’d awoken with a racing heart, and even though a somewhat hazy memory of Merrick telling her she didn’t need to feel guilty floated around in her mushy mind, she couldn’t help but still feel it.

It wasn’t as overwhelming as it had been, though.

As Lessia slipped through the squeaking back door and headed toward the rippling creek behind the house, she thought perhaps guilt was necessary to do what was right… to stay on the right path.

It was the reason she hadn’t given up on Loche and the rest of Ellow and just tried to get Amalise and the children out.

It was the reason she hadn’t used her magic to get riches and fame but instead had understood the responsibility that came with such a “gift.”

It was the reason she’d taken in the children in the first place and risked her own and her friend’s lives to give others a better one.

You’re a good person, Merrick had said.

Another voice flickered to life in her mind—one she’d spent years repressing.

But now she could hear her mother so clearly it was as if she stood beside Lessia.

Good people also do bad things, but it’s how you handle yourself after that matters.

Her mother had told her that once, when Frelina had destroyed one of Lessia’s bracelets on purpose because Lessia hadn’t wanted to play with her just that second.

The weight on her chest lifted.

Just an inch.

But it was enough for Lessia to draw a breath of dewy morning air, the warm smell of the yellow flowers lining the creek bed filling her nose as that determination—that conviction from last night—ran like a current over her skin.

She needed to pay the debt she owed to Ellow.

Not just because of Loche.

Or the children.

Or her friends.

But because of her mother.

The kindest human she’d ever known, whose light she needed to remember, whose light she needed to ensure could continue to shine on the lands where she’d been born.

While her mother might not have known of Lessia when she passed… Lessia would do everything she could to live up to her memory.

To make her proud.

And to do that, she needed to be strong now.

Fight for what was right, even when it hurt.

Perhaps especially when it hurt.

Lessia smiled as she dropped the towel on the grass and walked into the cool water.

It had been decided.

She’d do whatever she could for Ellow and Vastala.

And if she died…

Then at least she could move on to whatever came after this life with her head held high—right into her mother’s waiting arms.

Diving into the clear water, she relished the cold coating her skin, how the water caressed her body and drove the lingering murkiness from her mind.

Lessia stayed beneath the surface until her lungs screamed, and even then, she waited a few additional moments, unwilling to leave behind the sense of purpose and clarity swirling within her.

When she finally broke the surface, a tired voice drifted over the ripples she’d caused.

“Thank the gods. I thought I would have to get in.” Raine waved his bottle toward her. “If it’s humiliation that made you nearly drown yourself, it’s better not to stop drinking.”

Heat stained her cheeks despite the cool water surrounding her, and she dipped down again, wishing for the peaceful rushing of water to instill the same stillness in her as she popped up again.

“No, thanks,” she mumbled when Raine raised his brows, the bottle still extended.

“Suit yourself.” Raine shrugged before he slumped down with his back against one of the birch trees lining the creek.

She eyed him as he lifted the bottle to his lips. “Is it better to live in an illusion of happiness with artificial emotions keeping you going?”

“Happiness,” Raine scoffed. “I don’t live in happiness. The liquor doesn’t create emotions that don’t already reside within us. It can dim the negative ones but can’t create happy ones. And I don’t keep any.”

Lessia frowned. “But… but that would mean—”

“You danced because music makes you happy? Yes.”

Her brows pulled in further.

Music always made her happy—that wasn’t a surprise.

It was the gravitating to Merrick—kissing Merrick!—that was confusing.

He makes you happy .

The low voice in her mind made her jerk upright.

Did he?

They were friends.

You wanted to kiss him…

She had wanted it. But only to distract herself.

Right?

“You should probably grab your towel.” Raine covered his eyes with the arm holding his bottle. “I do not want to get killed if Merrick finds us here.”

“Why would he…” Lessia’s words trailed off when her eyes snagged on golden-brown hair sticking out from behind another tree, a bit further back from the one Raine leaned against.

After moving so fast through the water that it splashed around her, Lessia grabbed the towel, wrapped it around herself, and started toward the tree she’d seen her sister hide behind.

As she walked past Raine, the Fae grabbed her hand. “Be careful with him, Lessia.” His gaze flicked toward the cabin for a second before returning to hers. “He does not need more pain in his life.”

She was about to pretend she didn’t understand what he meant when concern, genuine concern, etched itself across Raine’s features.

Merrick had spoken about love and pain last night.

She’d heard the agony in his tone as clearly as she’d felt the urge to kiss him.

So, instead of denying that she understood what Raine meant, Lessia nodded. “I will.”

Raine’s hazel eyes softened. “Good. Now, I think your sister is making a run for it.”

Lessia whipped her head up just in time to see her sister weaving her way through the tall grass leading inland.

Without thinking, she cast a final glance at Raine and followed her into the thick green, ignoring that she was barefoot with only a towel wrapped around her body.

“Frelina!” Lessia called out when she glimpsed her hair between the whistling grass. “Please!”

But her sister didn’t stop, and the greenery quickly swallowed the figure, the blades swaying back and forth in the warming breeze.

Halting, Lessia cocked her head to the side, training her ears as she listened to the spears of grass rubbing against each other, the shrieks of wind as it brushed the stems.

There.

There was a shuffling of feet to her left.

Without making a sound, recalling the training she’d had sneaking through the streets in Vastala to avoid drawing the attention of Rioner’s guards, Lessia swept some of the tufts to the side.

When she heard the sound again, she lunged.

Slamming right into her sister, who’d started creeping up behind her, Lessia straddled her and gripped her flailing arms, pushing them down beside her body.

“Stop fighting,” Lessia hissed through her teeth when Frelina slithered like a snake beneath her, her white canines glinting in the sunlight that broke through the grass. “I just need you to listen to me.”

“Why should I?” Frelina snarled. “I heard you were taking off again anyway.”

Lessia stiffened when tears flooded her sister’s eyes, even as she blinked furiously to rid herself of them, and she quickly released her arms.

She was immediately flung to the side, crashing into the ground beside Frelina, and her towel dangerously close to falling off.

Readjusting it, Lessia glared to her side.

Frelina’s chest heaved, but she remained lying on her back, her short hair splayed out with grass sticking up between the strands.

“I’m sorry, Lina,” Lessia said softly as a tear rolled down her sister’s cheek, hoping Frelina wouldn’t snap at her for using the old pet name. “I’m so sorry for what I did to you. And I am even more sorry I left you. I promise, there hasn’t been a day when I didn’t think of you, when I didn’t hurt for what I did to you… you and Mother and Father.”

Frelina clenched her jaw, her eyes staring straight into the brightening sky. “I have been so angry with you! You don’t understand what it was like waking up, seeing Mother and Father completely broken… And when I asked for you? They called back the healer because they believed I hit my head so hard I was hallucinating. I even started to believe them—believe that the memories of you were fabrications of my mind.”

Lessia closed her eyes for a moment, digging her fingers into the ground.

Frelina was right.

She couldn’t even imagine.

“I’m sorry,” Lessia whispered again.

“I know,” Frelina clipped. “When I was finally healthy enough to get out of bed, I overheard my mother and the healer talk and… that’s when I realized they weren’t just broken for me…”

A distressed sound left her. “Mother was dying. I stopped talking about you then. They were barely functioning as it was, and Father could only focus on taking care of her. He got so careless we even had several of Rioner’s men pay us a visit, as Rioner wondered where he’d disappeared off to.”

Lessia’s eyes widened, and she turned to her side, eyeing her sister closely.

Something about her tone—the monotone coldness of it—sent a chill racing down her spine.

“I killed them.” Frelina also turned on her side, her gaze hard. “I had to.”

Lessia bowed her head. “Of course. I-I have done the same thing.”

How she wished neither of them had to, though.

That her innocent sister—the girl who used to chase Lessia through the woods on her pony, laughing so loud she almost fell off the horse, and who started every day by singing with their mother in the kitchen—remained.

But Lessia could see there was something new in Frelina’s gaze.

A darkness she knew all too well herself.

Frelina’s eyes flitted between hers, the amber in her sister’s deepening to almost pure brown. “You have changed as well.”

A weak smile spread across Lessia’s face. “You’re a mind reader?”

“Kind of.” Frelina grimaced. “I don’t read your mind, not like that drunkard Raine does. I get glimpses of memories, almost as if I were that person—as if I am living it.”

“What did you see just now?” Lessia wasn’t particularly eager to relive many of her memories, but her sister’s features had softened, and she’d talk about anything—even her time in Rioner’s cellars—if that’s what it took to continue seeing the angry lines fade.

“It was blurry, maybe two memories mixed? One you were terrified in, but the memory was almost pure darkness, arms holding on to you as they strapped you into something. The other hurt, like stepping onto a sharp rock and being unable to get it out of your foot. A beautiful man—a human man—stood above you, saying something while you called out his name.”

Frelina’s brows knitted when Lessia winced. “Who was that?”

“Loche,” Lessia forced out. “He… he was someone I cared for.”

Frelina crossed her arms over her chest. “He doesn’t seem very kind.”

A low laugh bubbled out of Lessia. “No, perhaps not. But I betrayed him, so I’m not sure I deserved kindness in that moment.”

“Because of what Rioner made you do?”

When Lessia raised her brows, Frelina clarified. “I didn’t get it from your mind, but when Father explained where we were going, that Merrick knew someone he’d probably like to meet, I tried to convince him again of what happened that day—of who you were—and Father told me of the blood oath, the spying Rioner forced you to do. I didn’t realize, though…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t realize you cared that much for him. But I felt it just now. I felt your heartbreak.”

Lessia reached out to grip her sister’s hand, the slight smile on her face widening when Frelina clasped it tightly.

“My heart was already broken, Lina. It never repaired itself from that day I thought I lost you…”

Lessia drew a breath, the words she’d held in for so long tumbling out of her. “I-I did care for him. He understood me in a way few have before, and we had many similarities—we wanted the same things. But I don’t think I could ever let myself love someone, not fully, unless… unless you forgive me.”

Lessia’s voice began shaking at the end, and she was grateful when Frelina squeezed her hand.

“I do,” Frelina said in a choked voice. “I do forgive you if you promise not to leave me again.”

Lessia nodded. “I promise I won’t. I will need to leave…”

She held up her hand when her sister’s face scrunched. “Wait, let me finish! I will need to leave for Ellow. There are more people’s forgiveness I need to seek, relationships I need to mend. But… will you come with me?”

A rush of air escaped Frelina. “Of course! I’ve always wanted to see Ellow. Father still doesn’t let me go anywhere, so I’ve only seen our damned island. And this one, I guess.”

Releasing Frelina’s hand, Lessia pressed her own down into the soft grass, pushing up to sit. “It’ll be dangerous, Frelina. As in life-and-death dangerous.”

Her sister wiggled her brows. “I was wondering why you had all these broody Fae males around. They’re bodyguards, aren’t they? The Death Whisperer, the Mind Capturer, and one of the Siphon Twins? Probably the best there are. I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Lessia clamped her lips together so as not to burst out laughing.

Frelina wasn’t entirely wrong.

She might have learned a little about fighting, but she was still no match for Merrick or Raine.

Probably not Kerym either.

“Perhaps do not call them that. As you said… they’re broody most of the time, so best not to rile them up further unless you want to deal with all the sighs and growls.” Lessia winked, warmth clawing into her chest when her sister grinned back at her.

The warmth spread to her limbs when Frelina fell into step with her as she headed back to the cabin, and that determination, that fire, burned even brighter as they stepped over the threshold and the males’ heads all snapped their way where they stood gathered around the kitchen table.

She could do this.

They could do this.

Lessia’s smile didn’t waver as she made her way into her room, quickly dressed, and then returned to the table to take up the spot Merrick had stepped aside to allow her as her sister slipped in under their father’s outstretched arm.

It didn’t even waver when all eyes sprang to hers.

She could do this.