Page 8 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

Moving her eyes to her boots, she drew a shaky breath, trying to rein in the emotions drawing up her magic.

She knew heightened states of mind drove magic to the surface to protect its wielder—had had more practice suppressing it than using it.

But right now, suppressing it was proving difficult.

When the light brightening the wood finally dimmed, she lifted her gaze again.

Merrick had shifted his glare to the dark clouds building in the north, the swirling white sheets beneath them betraying the snowstorm heading for Ellow.

She rubbed her arms when a brisk wind whipped around them, blowing Merrick’s hair out of his face and the torn cloak he wore toward the stern.

“I’m sorry,” she muttered when his tense shoulders didn’t lower and the angrily set jaw didn’t soften.

“I do not need an apology. You’re entitled to be angry. Gods, you’re entitled to be fucking furious. But you’re not entitled to be reckless with it.”

When she remained quiet, Merrick moved to lean his elbows on the railing, his eyes meeting hers again as he laced his fingers together. “Unless Raine kills us for entering his waters, we’ll start training again as soon as we arrive. You need to learn how tofeelyour emotions, especially the negative ones—the sadness and grief and fear—and use those feelings to control what you do with them. You’re Fae. Our emotions are too strong to be pushed down for long. Especially the negative ones…” Merrick sighed. “You have power, Lessia. More than you think. You just need to learn how to harness it.”

Power…

She nearly scoffed, but then Loche’s betrayed face flickered in her mind, and it felt as if someone ripped her heart from her chest and stomped on it, smashed it into a pool of crimson to allow it to drip through the planks they stood upon.

She sucked in a breath of salty air.

She couldn’t let those emotions in.

No.

Not without breaking down.

And she didn’t have that luxury.

There were people depending on her.

Perhaps more people than she’d expected, since she believed what Merrick had spoken was true.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced Loche from her mind—forced herself to focus on the anger that had consumed her before.

Merrick sighed again when she opened them, his features hardening when she didn’t respond.

As he watched her for a moment, something she couldn’t read flashed in his eyes. “It seems we need also to practice using your gift. You require more control over it if you plan to continue to threaten us with it.”

She started shaking her head but stilled when Merrick’s eyes narrowed.

“There may be a time when we’ll need you to use it,” he said softly.

Lessia didn’t respond as he straightened and brushed off some drops of water that had landed on the green tunic he wore beneath his cloak.

She had threatened them in there, but only because her frustrations got the better of her.

She would never use it on a friend again.

Now that she was no longer forced to by the blood oath, she could choose never to use it onanyoneagain.

She gripped the railing once more when another wave of fury roiled inside her.

All her magic did was destroy and hurt and betray.

“Lessia.” Merrick took a step toward her. “The gods gifted it to you for a reason. You do not need to be frightened of it. It’s not evil or good. It’s nothing but a power to be molded by its wielder. A power to be used carefully, yes. But not to be suppressed or forgotten about.”

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