Page 148 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

“Yes.” She stared right into Loche’s imploring eyes. “We should kill him. As soon as possible.”

Something deep rumbled in Merrick’s chest, and when she turned his way, she could tell he was furious.

But not with her…

No, once she quieted, one of his hands landed on her leg again, and she immediately felt more grounded and confident that this was the right decision.

Something else was driving that primal Fae rage to the surface.

Something that perhaps had to do with the dark-haired ruler who still had her hand in a firm grip, whose eyes seemed never to leave her face, that sense that he wanted—needed—to figure her out tracing over her skin like curious fingers.

Lessia quickly pulled her hand free, and while Merrick’s growl quieted, she didn’t miss how Loche’s eyes dipped before he shot to his feet, declaring that they’d have to make the plan for how to kill the Fae king tomorrow, as he was tired from the long ride.

And she didn’t miss the glossed sheen overtaking the gray when he had to turn back around for the sword he’d forgotten, resting against the leg of the table, and noted the hand Merrick still kept on her leg.

Pressure slammed into Lessia’s chest so hard she sounded breathless when she declared she needed to go as well, and she stumbled as she tried to keep her legs from sprinting after the regent.

She thought the weight might splinter her ribs when Merrick called out after her, not in the cold, demanding voice he used in training but in one tinged by worry.

But she didn’t turn around.

She needed to fix this.

Now.

ChapterThirty-Seven

Lessia didn’t hesitate as she walked up the two sets of stairs leading to the balcony where she and Loche had had one of their first honest conversations.

She didn’t know how, but somehow, she was confident that was where he’d be.

When the glass double doors stood ajar and a broad back greeted her where Loche sat on the railing, his legs dangling over the drop of hundreds of feet into the wild ocean, her lips curled in a sad smile.

It felt like an eternity ago they’d talked about Ardow and Amalise here…

When she’d evaded his questions as best she could while also fighting her growing curiosity about what made the terrifying regent tick.

She shook her head as she silently made her way onto the balcony, leaning her arms against the frozen, but no longer snow covered, railing and letting her eyes rest on the moon’s broken reflection in the angry waves.

The whole election process felt like it had taken place in a different life.

When Loche had thrown a smirk or scowl her way at any moment he could.

But when he had also been vulnerable—sharing memories she knew must still pain him.

When she had found common ground with one of the people she least expected.

When she’d dared open her heart again…

Only to have it ripped from her chest and thrown out as if it were trash.

And now?

She wasn’t sure what to feel toward the dark-haired, gray-eyed confusion of a man.

There was only one thing she knew for certain…

“What has you frowning like that?” Loche stared at her, his keen eyes following her every movement, eerily similar to how they’d tracked her all those weeks of the election.

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