Page 61 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

Lessia swallowed a whimper fighting to leave her.

She wouldn’t have that again—have what the people in this room so easily found.

What had taken her twenty-five years to stumble across.

And only days to destroy.

“Lessia.” A hand brushed her cheek, and she opened her eyes to Merrick’s dark ones—to his tense jaw and drawn-down brows.

As she looked into his darkness, following the sparkles swirling in the shadows, some of the turmoil inside her eased, and when she finally tore her eyes from his and glanced around, her cheeks heated upon realizing everyone was staring at her.

Ardow with a worried expression.

Venko with sorrow.

But it was Raine’s glossed hazel eyes, which flitted between her and Merrick, that had her nearly shut her own again.

Agony.

It was pure agony flickering across his face.

“Are you all right?” Ardow whispered.

Her bottom lip trembled as she tried to say yes, but no words came out.

“She will be,” Merrick said quietly, and she shot him a grateful look. “Let’s join the storytellers.” He cast a pointed look at Ardow and Venko. “I am sure you haven’t heard all of our history.”

Iviry, who’d been openly staring, her eyes narrowing as they locked with Lessia’s, turned toward Merrick and placed a hand on his chest. “You owe me at least one dance after being gone for so long.”

Merrick began shaking his head, but Iviry only stepped up closer to him. “Please. Raine won’t ever do me the honor, and we never get any fun guests. It’s Zehmkell, Merrick.”

When Iviry gripped the hand Merrick had just used to cup her cheek and began to drag him toward the other dancing couples, Lessia didn’t think.

“Leave him alone,” she snarled, boring her eyes into Iviry’s. “He doesn’t dance.”

Iviry spun around, and whatever she saw in Lessia’s face made her brows pull. “Everybody dances during Zehmkell, young one.”

Young one…

Lessia’s vision darkened when Raine stepped in between them. “Iviry, you know Merrick never dances—we barely used to get him to join us on these celebrations. Leave the poor male alone. Besides”—he gestured toward Lessia—“he’s on babysitting duty.”

Iviry’s eyes flew to Raine’s, and Lessia could see she wanted to argue, but after a second of silence she finally shook her head. “Fine. But thenyouowe me one, Raine.”

After he nodded, Iviry waved to them, then elegantly shifted between couples, finding a blond Fae leaning against the wall and offering him a broad smile as he bowed.

“Why are you so angry?” Venko’s brows knitted as he stared at Lessia, but she didn’t respond; she was busy watching Raine battle one of Merrick’s icy glares, the latter having stepped forward, right into Raine’s space.

Nausea welled within her as she watched Merrick hiss something into Raine’s ear, and she wondered if she’d gone too far with all her snarling and being rude to their friend.

Somehow Iviry had really gotten under her skin.

It had been clear Merrick didn’t want to go with her, and she hadn’t missed him shifting to get away from the arm she’d decided to wrap around his waist.

But the furious expression currently twisting Merrick’s face made her wonder if she’d imagined it.

Perhaps she’d just stopped him from enjoying Zehmkell with an old friend.

Or… an old lover?

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