Page 3 of A Promise so Bold and Broken (Compelling Fates Saga #2)

Chapter Three

W hen they finally made their way inside, the captain had brought down more watery grain.

Venko and Ardow sat at the table, picking at it with rusty spoons.

Shadows danced over the men and across the small cots covering the cabin walls, their eerie movements shifting when the ship tilted from the rising winds.

Lessia had to grip the side of one of the cots when a strong gust made the ship heel, and her stomach turned enough that she headed to her assigned bedding instead of joining the table and the unpleasant smell of half-rotten oats.

Sitting down on the bed, she drew deep breaths through her mouth against the nausea, her eyes tracking Merrick as he also opted to head to his cot.

Settling in the too-small cot opposite her, he unsheathed the sword always strapped to his back, its rubies glowing softly as he placed it beside him on the mattress.

Lessia picked at the dagger he’d given her, running her fingers along the identical red gemstones before laying it beside the one her father had gifted her.

She’d thought it strange King Rioner hadn’t disarmed Merrick when they’d captured him.

But perhaps his faith in the blood oath was that strong.

Merrick had been in his service for centuries, after all.

Ardow rose, his chair scraping against the floor as he pulled it out.

Picking up two cups from the table, he closed the short distance to her cot, his eyes flicking to the spot beside her.

Lessia thought about refusing, but when his face strained, she sighed and shifted to the end of the bed.

Ardow offered her a small smile as he pressed one of the cups into her hands.

“Truce?” he asked softly.

She narrowed her eyes as another surge of anger swept over her, but when Merrick cleared his throat across the room and she shifted her eyes to his, a wheezing breath made its way into her lungs.

I can only use that anger to direct the future, he’d said.

Averting her eyes to the hands in her lap, she thought he had a point.

She could be angry at Ardow all she liked, but it wouldn’t help their situation.

Flexing her fingers, she made herself meet Ardow’s imploring gaze and groused, “For now.”

He nodded as he bumped his cup against hers, and when he lifted it to his lips, she followed.

Tears sprung into her eyes the second the liquid touched her mouth, and she spat it out, gasping for air as the few drops that had made it down her throat burned like blazing flames.

“What is this?” she hissed, using her sleeve to wipe at her tongue when the scalding sensation continued. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Laughter exploded through the room, and she snapped her gaze between Venko’s flushed cheeks, Merrick’s turned-down face, and Ardow’s wide eyes.

Lessia clenched her jaw when Ardow and Venko continued giggling, and when even Merrick’s shifting shoulders betrayed him, she hesitated only for a second.

Then she poured the rest of the cup over Ardow’s head.

“What the…” He stared at her with pale liquid dripping down his face and the strands of his hair turning darker as the liquor stained it.

She glared right back at him. “I told you not to laugh at me.”

When Ardow lifted his own cup, she shuffled backward but stilled when whispers crashed through the cabin, the oily magic turning the air even more stale as Merrick flew to his feet.

“Don’t you dare,” he growled. “You had it coming for lying to her. She saved your life. Show some gratitude.”

Ardow’s features hardened as he glared at the Fae, but when the whispers grew louder, causing the hair on Lessia’s arms to rise, he rested the cup on his knees.

Although the hand holding it shook so much the liquid spilled over the sides.

“I’m sorry,” Ardow snarled when Merrick’s magic continued roiling through the room. “Just stop it!”

Lessia held her breath as the whispers faded, but a low hum remained until Ardow turned toward her, fear reflecting in his eyes as he shakily got out, “I’m so sorry, Lessia. For everything.”

When it finally quieted, Venko’s face had returned to the pale coloring she’d gotten used to the past few days, and both she and Ardow jerked when he pushed his chair back and stalked toward the stairs.

Venko stiffened on the first step, and his finger trembled as he pointed it Merrick’s way. “You’re actually the damned Death Whisperer? I thought you were joking before! I wasn’t even certain you were real or if it was only a story told to keep humans wary of the Fae.”

His gaze sliced to Ardow. “The Death Whisperer, Ardow? What in the gods did you drag me into?” Venko shook his head, his face contorted with betrayal, before hurrying up the stairs.

Lessia flinched again when the hatch slammed shut, and she squeezed her eyes together when memories of another door shutting invaded her mind.

Gripping the rough blanket tight, she tried to push the thoughts away—tried to drown out the sounds of metal and dripping water.

“Lessia?”

Ardow’s voice sounded far away, and a whimper fought to leave her throat when a Fae with blue eyes squatted down before her in a dark corner, a wicked smile on his face as he whispered her name.

You’re never leaving this place.

No.

Enough.

She wasn’t going back there.

Violently shaking her head, she let the fury of Ardow’s betrayal, of Loche’s dismissal, and of the helplessness she felt thinking of her friends flood her veins, tinting the darkness before her eyes crimson.

A warning snarl escaped her when warm hands settled on her knees, and she pried her eyes open to dark eyes and an inhumanly tall form crouched before her.

Lessia scrambled backward on the bed, dashing for the daggers she’d placed beside her.

“Get away from me,” she hissed as she tightened her grip on the hilts.

“It’s me, Lessia,” the figure said quietly.

“No!” she shouted. “Leave me alone!”

But the Fae didn’t.

Instead, he shoved someone off the cot, the grunt from the person hitting the floor echoing in the cramped cabin.

“It’s me. It’s Merrick,” the figure said.

She blinked hard.

But she could still only see the dim outline of the Fae in Rioner’s cellars.

“It’s me.”

The voice rumbled through her as she blinked again.

Her vision sharpened, and the Fae’s silver hair and familiar features kindled something within her.

Lessia blinked again as he climbed into the bed, taking the spot beside her.

Merrick.

Dropping the daggers, she pressed her shaking hands to her face.

Merrick wouldn’t hurt her.

Not anymore.

She stiffened when the bed shifted, and strong arms wrapped around her, pulling her into a broad chest.

“It’s me,” he whispered into her hair, and as his low voice wrapped around her, her coiled muscles softened.

He held her closer, and his hair tickled her cheek as he continued. “I promise you, you’re never going back there. I will never allow them to hurt you again. Do you hear me?”

When she didn’t respond, Merrick repeated, “Do you hear me?”

Finally, she dipped her chin, and a low rumble vibrated in his chest.

When her body finally relaxed fully against his, her cheek resting against his soft tunic, and she breathed in the scent that reminded her of forests and wilderness, he shifted, gently unwrapping his arms and guiding her head to the pillow.

“You need to rest,” he whispered.

She peeked at him through her lashes, and an involuntary sound left her when his feet found the floor.

Freezing, Merrick glanced back down, and whatever he found in her eyes made his nostrils flare as he nodded once.

“I’ll stay here while you sleep.”

It was all she needed to hear for her eyelids to flutter, and she sighed as she curled up on her side, facing the wall, but her feet still touched Merrick’s legs as he sat down on the end of the bed with his back against the wall.

Fatigue seeped into her every muscle and limb, and she tried to focus on Merrick’s slow breaths as sleep pressed down on her.

For a while, the only sounds filling the cabin were the sparks as the candles sputtered, the soft breaths of people, and the rustling of fabric as someone moved positions.

But as she was about to fall into darkness, a barely audible whisper broke through the musty air.

“Is she sleeping?”

She made herself lie completely still, keeping her breaths even, unsure whether she could handle another conversation right now.

“It appears so,” Merrick responded.

“Is she going to be all right?” Ardow’s words were laced with worry, and she could hear him adjust his position somewhere on the floor.

A low rumble shook the bed as Merrick hissed, “Yes.”

“But… I’ve never seen her like this. She—she’s so angry.”

It was quiet for a beat, and Lessia didn’t dare move a muscle as she drew air into her lungs not to allow her heart rate to increase.

“Are you surprised?” Merrick asked, his tone so cold she held back a shiver.

“No, but… I’ve never seen her react like that when she’s reminded of those years. Sh-she usually breaks down,” Ardow whispered.

Lessia tensed, but Merrick’s low voice drowned out the memories threatening to surface.

“It’s a good thing. She’s fighting back. She is angry. And that anger is what’s keeping her going. She’s been through so much in her young life, and she’s repressed all the resulting emotions for so long… But she can’t anymore, not with all the hurt and disappointment. So she focuses on the easiest one to manage—rage.”

“Sh-she only feels rage?” Ardow breathed.

“For now,” Merrick responded quietly. “She might only be half-Fae, but our emotions are much stronger than human ones. With everything that happened in the past week, I’m surprised she’s even left the cot. I’ve seen full Fae break over less.”

Lessia could hear Ardow shift, and she imagined how his face scrunched up the way it did when he was scared, and an unfamiliar feeling of irritation crept over her skin.

“But she’ll be back to normal soon?”

Merrick moved again, and she could feel his eyes on her, the warmth of his gaze traveling down her face as he sighed. “Time will tell. For now, I suggest you stop riling her up, or you might find yourself in a dangerous situation. I certainly won’t stop her if it comes to that.”

A low muttering bounced between the walls before Ardow broke the silence again. “Can… can we help her get better?”

Lessia stopped herself from swallowing when Merrick tensed, feeling as if every beat of her heart slammed against her chest.

“She doesn’t need to get better ,” he snarled softly. “If she decides to break apart this whole ship to deal with what happened, I’ll help her. If she wants to kick your lying ass into the depths of the sea, I’ll take your legs. If she decides to rip the world to shreds for what it’s done to her, I’ll cheer her on. And if you were a true friend… you would as well.”