Page 28 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

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.”

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