Page 119 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

More screams floated somewhere outside the ringing in her ears.

Still, as she felt her consciousness slip, they weakened until only a low crooning broke through the haze of agony, and when the world pressed against her—pressed everywhere until it all went silent—she let it swallow her, praying that that might somehow end the torment.

ChapterThirty

Mumbles sounded somewhere outside the muddled darkness that was her mind, and Lessia tried to perk her aching ears to make out what they were saying.

“That was fucking Vincere. But it was worse. I still can’t feel my magic.”

Must be Kerym’s gravelly voice, she thought.

“Why would Rioner have gifted Vincere to Ellow? It’s the one thing that keeps us subdued.”

Raine.

“No fucking clue.” Chains clinked as Merrick snarled somewhere to her left.

“Lessia,” he called, his voice softening. “I know you’re awake.”

She squeezed her eyelids shut when another wave of pain stabbed at her, the sense that her every nerve was on fire rippling through her.

She really wished she hadn’t awoken.

Especially when more sharp pangs of agony—agony that reminded her of a severe toothache she’d had when little—shot through her skull.

“Lessia,” Merrick said again, his voice worryingly gentle. “Do not panic. But—”

Whatever he said was drowned out when she finally gave in and opened her eyes.

To nothing.

It was utterly dark—not a single ember of light filling the space before her.

Jerking her head, Lessia felt a strap of fabric tightly bound around it shift.

Her heart started racing.

No, no, no.

“Lessia.” Merrick’s voice got sterner, but she ignored him as she tried lifting her hands to pull it off.

A whimper built within her when she realized shackles encircled her wrists, allowing her to move her hands only a few inches from where they lay in her lap.

Her feet were also bound, and metal grated on her skin where her trousers had slipped out of her boots.

You’re never getting out of here.

No.

This couldn’t be happening.

Her breathing became erratic as the musty scent of stone and waste permeated her senses.

Water began dripping somewhere in the darkness.

Metal scraped against the floor.

“No!” Lessia scrambled backward as much as the chains would allow, but it proved futile.

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