Page 65 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

A painful one.

But its effects were fading quickly.

So the only thing she could do to keep her mind occupied until her father’s ship arrived was to fight.

Keep her eyes fixed on Merrick’s lightning-fast movements, his glinting sword as it tapped every weak spot she left open, and let his grumblings when she didn’t follow his exact orders fill her head.

“Good.” Merrick gave her a smile that sent a shudder through her.

On most, a smile would have been encouraging.

But on Merrick…

It was more like a lethal promise.

Lessia’s hand shook as she wiped the back of it over her forehead, the sand sticking to her damp skin scratching her, but she made herself crouch, gripping her daggers tightly as Merrick charged her.

The clang of her daggers blocking his sword echoed across the beach, and she stumbled backward when he pushed against the cross she’d made with the blades to stop him from tapping her gut.

A growl left her when Merrick spun around so fast that sand danced around him, and she lost her vision for a moment as she straightened and blood rushed from her head.

As she blinked against the dark spots, Merrick’s arms circled her, and the cold of his sword soon rested against her bare neck.

“You’re getting sloppy,” he hissed into her ear, blowing a few of her sweaty strands into her face. “You need to surprise me! Not use the same movement you’ve done the past three times. I’ve said it before!”

“I know!” she gritted through her teeth.

“It doesn’t seem like you do!” Merrick snarled.

She fought the frustration urging her to bite him again. Bite right into his golden skin, letting iron mix with that wild scent of his. “Let me go, and I will show you!”

“Hasn’t she trained enough for today?” Raine asked as he strolled down to the waterline before them. “She looks a tad tired.”

“No!” she and Merrick hissed in unison.

Raine raised his hands. “No need to snap at me.”

His gaze swept over the sword at her neck before it lifted to just above her head, leveled with where Merrick’s eyes must be based on where his chest heaved against her back. “You have a few weeks at most, Merrick. With how much sand is tangled in her hair, I assume she’s not gotten much better than she was the past few days. What is the point?”

Releasing her, Merrick stalked up to him, his every step slow and steady.

If they hadn’t been on a beach, Lessia imagined each stride would bounce off the ground with icy precision, like a thunderous storm preparing to unleash.

“What is the point?” Merrick repeated as he halted right before Raine, the latter’s eyes widening at whatever he saw in Merrick’s face.

Merrick’s arm flew out behind him, and a long finger pointed her way. “The point is to survive, Raine. The point is to fight back. To not let evil win. You might have forgotten the point… but I haven’t. And neither has she. You know as well as I do that skill only goes so far. It’s that burning passion, the fever to do what’s right, that matters. And she has that!”

Rolling his eyes, Raine pulled out his flask.

But Merrick wouldn’t have it.

Slapping it out of his hand, he leaned in further, his furious whisper drifting toward her. “Solana had that fever as well, Raine. She wouldn’t have stood idly by, drinking herself into a stupor each night if it had been you who died. She would have fought beside us, regardless of how futile it might be. You’re betraying her memory with your actions.”

A buzzing began in her head as Raine’s face went ashen, guilt pulling at his drunken features.

Tearing her eyes away, she stuffed her daggers into her waistband and forced her tired legs to move faster than they liked, taking her down to the water, away from the arguing Fae.

Lessia clasped her hands over her face when Loche’s deceived face flashed before her eyes.

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