Page 7 of A Promise so Bold and Broken (Compelling Fates Saga #2)

Chapter Seven

L essia stared at the leathers folded on the chair in the corner of the room she’d been shown.

Raine had reluctantly given them to her while mumbling something about how they’d probably fit, but with a strange expression twisting his features.

Lessia shook her head.

She knew Fae usually dressed differently—had seen the clothing her father would wear upon returning from spending time with his brother.

Their clothing was usually more elaborate, with different and more daring cuts, using colors humans usually deemed excessive.

But this?

Hesitantly lifting the brown vest, she examined it, wincing at the cutoff sleeves.

Even if she was no longer forced to hide the tattoo, these sleeves were nonexistent—not the capped ones the women in Ellow preferred, but leaving everything from her mid-shoulder to her hands bare.

And while the intricate lacing in the front was beautiful, it ended just above her chest… revealing much more skin than she was comfortable with.

When she unfolded them, the breeches weren’t any better.

She might have lost some weight during the election, and the leather was supple, but these would be skin tight.

Groaning to herself, with a rough towel, Lessia rubbed off the last drops of water from the quick dip she’d taken in the creek behind Raine’s house.

Her fingers absentmindedly traced the scars on her arm when she finished, whispering over the raised skin where the outline of the snake remained, only now in a slightly lighter shade than her skin.

As she peeked at it, her chest constricted.

While it no longer bound her to the king, it was a permanent reminder of what had happened a week ago.

Of the people she’d let down.

Of the people she’d hurt.

Of how her heart had broken.

Perhaps beyond repair.

A sob lodged itself in her throat, but she quickly started pulling on the trousers, refusing to allow herself to dwell on that darkness.

She didn’t dare glance at herself in the mirror—didn’t want to meet the hollow amber eyes she was sure would stare back at her.

And she definitely didn’t want to see how ridiculous she looked in these leathers.

After years of hiding beneath layers, primarily to hide her tattoo, but perhaps also—the tiniest bit—to hide from the stares she gathered anyway, being half-Fae, she wasn’t used to wearing anything this exposing.

Even before her capture, living at home, she’d mostly worn human clothing.

Her mother loved to sew—one of the few things Lessia didn’t have in common with her—and she’d created the most beautiful flowing dresses and clothing that allowed Lessia and Frelina to play in the forests behind their home without worrying about being restricted.

Rather than play or comfort, these leathers seemed to have been made for fighting.

Or at least training.

Patches covered the knees of the breeches, there were loops to hold daggers and other weapons by the waist, and the vest was padded over the heart with a material she was unfamiliar with.

Lessia fastened her two daggers into loops on each side of her hips and, after a glance at the room—which, honestly, was more of a cupboard with a small rounded window, a tiny bed, and a chair—opened the creaking door and walked down the short hallway leading into the living room.

Merrick and Raine stood by the vast bar extending across the entire back of the room, seemingly deep into a hushed conversation, each with a glass of clear liquid with a bluish tint.

An unlit fireplace occupied one of the corners. Even without the flames that she expected often burned bright within it, based on the soot covering the gray stone, the large windows on either side of it allowed enough light.

At least for now.

Wherever Midhrok was, it seemed to be early summer, and though evening had fallen, the sun still hovered over the cliffs leading down to the beach before the house.

Neither male turned around when she walked in, so Lessia strolled up to a large painting to her left.

It depicted a wyvern raised tall over the dark waters from which it emerged.

The wyvern faced four Fae, one of whom held in one of his outstretched hands something that sparkled in the darkness surrounding them.

Her finger trailed over the wyvern, and she wondered if this was Ydren, and whether Raine controlled it the way she had, or if he’d somehow formed a friendship with the terrifying creature.

“Is there anything to eat?”

Lessia jerked when Ardow’s voice jarred her out of her thoughts, and when glass shattered a moment after, she spun around, her pulse quickening.

Her eyes collided with Merrick’s, and hers widened when she realized blood dripped from his hand, staining the shards of glass beneath him.

And her heart beat even faster when Merrick continued to stare at her, his full lips parting as his eyes trailed down her body, and an urge to hide swept through her.

Tearing her eyes from his, she met Raine’s gaze, and heat crept up her cheeks when she found his eyes glossed, the hand holding his cup trembling.

Raine quickly downed the drink in his hands, refilled the glass to the brim, and turned toward Ardow and Venko, who’d seated themselves on the large couch before the fireplace.

Clearing his throat, he responded. “There is bread and some meat. I don’t keep any extravagant food here.”

The tension in the room crawled over Lessia’s skin like Merrick’s magic liked to do, and she shook her head to clear it of Merrick’s and Raine’s strange behavior.

“Thank you. We do not need anything lavish,” she forced out when Ardow’s face betrayed his disappointment.

Raine stared at her for a moment too long, and the uneasiness within her grew with each silent second.

Finally, he lifted the cup to draw another gulp, and she shuffled behind the couch, trying to keep as much distance between them as possible, since she wasn’t certain if it was anger that flashed in his eyes when she met them.

Refilling his glass for the second time, Raine said quietly, “What you need and want are different things.”

Frowning, Lessia started to ask him what he meant, but Merrick interrupted her.

“Raine, why don’t you get us some food? Then we can discuss our next steps so we can get out of your hair.”

Nodding, Raine slipped out of the room, but not before staring at Lessia again, that glossiness in his eyes returning.

A shudder went through her as she slumped down in the chair beside the couch, and she pulled up her legs and wrapped her arms around them, trying to shield as much of her body as possible.

She was used to Fae staring, after her years on the streets of Vastala, but somehow, she’d expected a friend of Merrick’s not to be so blatant about it.

“It was his mate’s,” Merrick whispered as he took a seat in the chair beside her.

When Lessia frowned, he continued. “The clothing you’re wearing. It was Solana’s.”

A knot formed in her gut. “She’s… dead?”

Merrick nodded, a muscle in his jaw flexing. “A long time ago. He’s not been the same since.” He let out a sigh. “But who would be? Finding the soul that mirrors yours, only to lose them… I expect it’s worse than never finding them at all.”

The cracks in her heart widened when something worked its way into Merrick’s voice, and she was certain from his tone that he hadn’t found his mate yet.

It was loneliness, she decided, that sneaked into the deep rumble.

Lessia wasn’t so sure that never finding them was preferable.

Half- or part-Fae didn’t always have one, so she’d never been too concerned, but her mother was her father’s mate, and she couldn’t imagine them without each other.

Two pieces that fit so perfectly together—like two melodies harmonizing with each other or two hearts beating in the same rhythm.

Even her mother being human and her father a Fae of royal blood hadn’t stopped them.

Apparently it was impossible for the male Fae to resist being close to their mate once they’d smelled them, the scent driving them to near madness unless they could be near—be with—their fate-bound.

Her father had caught one whiff of her mother and realized what she was.

And that was that.

When Raine returned with a tray of food, she realized she’d been staring at Merrick, and she busied herself with picking up small pieces of somewhat stale bread and popping them into her mouth, even though she wasn’t very hungry.

She hadn’t really been hungry since they left Ellow behind.

With so many emotions choking her, it felt as if it would be too much, stuffing anything else inside her body at this point.

“So what’s the grand plan?” Raine kept his eyes on Merrick when he spoke. “You’re taking on the rebels and then the Oakgards’ Fae by yourselves?”

“No,” Merrick snarled. “We need to—”

“We need to go to the rebels!” Ardow dared urge.

When Lessia released a frustrated breath, Ardow turned her way. “I know you disagree with our ways, but we all want the same thing. A free Havlands—free from the corrupt and evil men that rule it—allowing all species to live freely.” He reached out a hand toward her. “We can convince them together, Lessia. Change their ways if that’s what it takes for you to join us. You’re of noble blood—they’d surely listen to you, especially the half-Fae.”

The chuckle that left Merrick rattled her bones. “You stupid, ignorant human. If you tell the rebels what she is, they’ll kill her on the spot. I don’t know of all your plans, but if the rebels are planning on taking down Rioner and Loche”—Merrick cast her a glance when Lessia swallowed loudly at the mention of Loche—“do you truly think they’ll let their families and friends live?”

Ardow’s face flushed. “I have a high standing with them. I can convince them to spare her.”

Venko laughed hollowly. “Such a high standing that they left you to rot in Loche’s cellars.”

Lessia couldn’t stop herself from nodding.

He’d been unable to stop them coming after her during the election.

What could have changed now?

“Venko,” Ardow started, but Venko turned away from him, pointing to one of the cups on the table, and when Raine nodded, he downed the entire thing.

“I don’t want to hear it, Ardow. I don’t want to be part of whatever you’re planning on unleashing on Havlands. You lied to me, and I’m starting to believe you’re lying to yourself,” Venko rasped once he’d swallowed.

Ardow’s face twisted, but he remained silent as he leaned back on the couch, eyes dropping when Venko moved farther away to refill his cup.

“Humans,” Merrick grumbled under his breath as he also lifted a glass to his lips.

Lessia watched him swallow a small mouthful, his tense features softening slightly as he set it down again. “I have to admit, I’ve missed your liquor, Raine.”

Raine grinned at Merrick as he swept his arm toward the bar. “There is more where that came from.”

When he shifted his hazel eyes to hers, she was relieved no tears glistened in them, but she shook her head when he raised a brow and offered her a glass of blue-tinted liquid.

“Suit yourself.” Raine shrugged and downed that cup as well. “I think you’ll need it, based on what’s to come.”

“What’s to come?” she echoed.

Raine inclined his head. “Those scoundrel rebels came by here a few weeks ago. Wanted to see if I or any of the others here wanted to join in.”

“What did they say specifically?” she asked, her fingers digging into the fabric of the seat. She ignored the mention of others. They hadn’t seen anyone else on the short walk from the beach, but since they hadn’t seen the entire island, that didn’t mean there weren’t more sad recluses residing here, perhaps drinking away their worries like she’d started to realize Raine did.

It didn’t matter anyway.

“Oh, they said many things.” Raine grinned, his eyes glossy again—not from tears, but from the fifth glass he’d downed while she spoke.

“Raine,” Merrick snarled softly.

Raine crossed his arms over his chest. “You two are no fun.”

Flying from her seat, Lessia stepped up so close the stench of alcohol wrapped around her, making her nose scrunch, and slammed a finger into his chest. “You might have given up on this world, but we haven’t.”

Her magic vibrated under her skin, and when Raine only yawned, it burst through her, her eyes brightening his face.

“Tell. Me. What. They. Said,” she purred, every limb tingling from magic flowing freely through her veins.

Raine laughed, and a hiccup sneaked its way into the deep chuckle. “Oh, you’re so young. That magic of yours—” He hiccuped again. “Doesn’t work on me. But the gold is pretty. Better than other half-Fae tells that you have magic. I once met someone—”

Snarling, Lessia lifted her fist, but Merrick was faster, and his arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her flush against him.

“Don’t,” he hissed in her ear. “He’ll only enjoy it.”

When she tried turning her head to glare at Merrick, he clasped her tighter against his chest, forcing her to keep facing forward.

“Raine,” Merrick snarled over her head. “She’s right. Unless you prefer we stay here forever, tell us what you know.”

“You’re truly no fun,” Raine whined, but then he straightened.

“They told me they’re planning an attack in the next few weeks and that if we weren’t to join them, we should stay out of Vastala and Ellow.” Raine shook his head. “As if any of us would return to Havlands,” he scoffed.

She could hear Merrick grinding his teeth behind her before he asked, “What else?”

A deep sigh left Raine. “They’ve been working on this for decades. They have rebels all over Vastala and Ellow. Regular townsfolk who are preparing to launch the attack from the inside, while the shifters will attack from the sea. It will be quick. And ruthless.”

Unease roiled in her gut.

The rebels were all over Havlands?

Her stomach dropped as she thought back to the past few months.

It made sense.

The attacks on the castle had been from within, not from a small group of rebels out at sea.

“When?” Merrick growled when she released a shaky breath.

Raine picked at his nails. “They were here a fortnight ago, so I assume in the next months or so? They weren’t particularly eager to share once I laughed in their faces. And… I didn’t care to ask too many questions.”

Merrick released her, and when she spun around, his eyes locked onto hers. “We don’t have much time, then. What do you want to do, Lessia?”

Her mouth fell open as she stared back at him.

He wanted her to decide?

She was in a room with two of the most lethal Fae warriors ever to set foot in Havlands.

A rebel with insight into the plans.

Even Venko knew Havlands better than she did, with all his travels.

But Merrick continued to look at only her.

Her heart began thumping in her chest as silence endured, and Merrick’s eyes briefly shifted down before continuing to burn into hers.

Lessia swallowed audibly.

She wanted to see her family.

She wanted to make things right with Loche.

She wanted to get Amalise and Kalia and the rest to safety.

But where was safety?

Even if they somehow managed to subdue the rebels, the threat of the Oakgards’ Fae who planned an attack still remained.

Her eyes flew across the room, trailing across Ardow’s still-flushed face, Venko’s glazed eyes, and Raine, who drank from yet another cup.

“We need to stand united if we’re going to take on an army of Fae,” she said, her voice quivering slightly. “We need to convince Rioner and L…” Lessia bit her lip when pain struck her heart. “And Loche,” she forced out.

Jaw twitching, Merrick nodded, his eyes encouraging her to go on.

Clenching her fists, she continued. “We need to see my father. He might be the only one who can convince Rioner. And… and when we’ve done that, we need to return to Ellow.”

Reaching out to grip her hand, Merrick dipped his chin. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

Merrick turned toward Raine. “Do you still have your eagles?”

Raine groaned as he shifted on the chair, his eyes half shut. “I do.”

Squeezing her hand, Merrick said quietly, “We send for Alarin tonight. And I’ll see if a few other friends might also answer a summons.”