Page 167 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

Lessia swallowed.

She’d stopped him for a reason.

Merrick seemed to read her mind because he set her down again—even with the wildfire of silver glimmering in his eyes. “There is something you need?”

“Yes, I…” Lessia started walking toward the office. “I don’t know. Something was telling me to come back here.”

That feeling roiled within her again.

Urgent.

Impatient.

Needy.

Like a tap on the shoulder by a restless child.

You need to see.

She frowned as the feeling turned into a whisper within her mind, and her steps lengthened as she fixed her eyes down the dim corridor.

Merrick followed her down the hallway to the other side of the house, opening the door to the freezing office for her when they reached it, and she could sense him tensing when she passed him—whatever he picked up from her probably irking him as well.

While she strolled along the walls, dragging her fingers over the backs of the books lining every inch of the shelves, Merrick worked his magic on the fireplace, and soon the room glowed in soft gold and red tones, the heat spreading quickly within the small room.

As Merrick looked through some of the papers she’d left on her desk, Lessia’s eyes snagged on a leatherbound book.

But it wasn’t the intricate gold binding nor the thickness that caught her attention.

It was the crossed daggers—one with rubies decorating the hilt and the other with amber stones—carved into the bottom of the spine that had her sucking in a breath.

As she grasped the book, something ignited within her.

Something ancient waking her magic to life deep down inside, despite the Vincere-like liquid traveling her veins—something foreboding, something she couldn’t explain, telling her she needed to do this now.

Alone.

It was all she could do to clear her throat and shakily ask Merrick, “Could… could you get me some water?”

She didn’t dare turn around when she sensed him hesitate—certain he’d read too much into her surely blanched face and wary eyes.

“Please?” she whispered, and finally, she heard Merrick’s feet move toward the kitchen.

Still, she didn’t dare open the book until the stairs creaked, and she was sure he wouldn’t storm back in and interrupt.

With her heart in her throat, pounding so hard she had to blow out a few breaths to ensure she could still hear Merrick walking somewhere above her, she opened the book.

First, Lessia thought she must have made it all up.

It was a children’s book.

One she didn’t recognize but which must have been Ardow’s, since it came from the Fae.

The stories described in it were the ones her father had told her growing up.

Nothing in the book warranted the feeling tugging at her, the pages only filled with words and the odd drawing.

But as she leafed through it once more, she realized something was scribbled in the gutter on the last page, something that made her heart stutter in her chest as it caught her eye.

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