Page 9 of A Promise so Bold and Broken

“The gods are gone!” she snapped. “They don’t partake in our world anymore. They don’t care for us! And especially not ushalflings!”

Bridging the final distance between them and crowding her against the railing, Merrick stared down at her, a muscle in his jaw twitching as an angry tear snaked its way down her cheek.

Lessia furiously wiped it away, wondering how she’d ever wished to be able to cry again.

It was stupid.

Weak.

And she didn’t have time for either of those things.

“If you believe that, you’re not as clever as I thought,” he said quietly as he lifted a hand and used his thumb to brush away another treacherous drop.

Merrick watched it for a moment before he let the tear fall into the dark waves.

Cupping her chin, he lifted her eyes to his again. “The gods may not show themselves anymore, but they’re here. They’re in every creature in our world, in all the beauty and the ugliness, in good and evil, in glory and flaws. And they are most certainly in you. They choose a person’s gift for a reason, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t question mine for a long time. Truth be told, I still question it—butIwield it, Lessia. I decide what it is and what it isn’t.”

She swallowed as Merrick stepped back. “You didn’t kill your sister. I don’t know how she survived, but perhaps it was the gods’ way of teaching you to respect your gift. Showing you the darker side should you turn to it.”

Her brows drew together. “So you’re saying I should be grateful for the gods forcing me onto the streets of Vastala? For making me live in darkness for years in Rioner’s cellars? Perhaps for me getting banished from every home I’ve ever known?”

Merrick raised a brow when her magic stirred, and she snarled when light filled her eyes again and an urge to tell him to shut his mouth crashed through her.

When she stepped toward him, warning whispers boomed through the mist, and oily tendrils snaked their way around her arms, forcing her trembling body to a stop.

But he didn’t avert his eyes as his glacial voice broke through the fog overtaking her mind. “I won’t pity you. We forge our own fates. While the gods might give us gifts, it’s up to us what we do with them. We always have a choice.”

“So was it your choice to chain yourself to Rioner, then?” she taunted as heat crept up her neck.

The air stilled, and a shiver skittered down her spine when Merrick’s magic tightened its grip.

But just as fast it released her, the wind and the water hitting the sides of the ship soon the only thing filling her ears.

“It was my choice, yes.” Merrick’s voice barely traveled over the gusting breeze as he spun around to walk back inside.

Her stomach churned at the sorrow that seeped into his scent, and before she knew what she was doing, she gripped one of his large hands.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as he turned his head over his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

He didn’t respond, only stared at her with those star-filled eyes.

When his wild, mourning scent continued to whirl around them, she threw her head back and closed her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she reiterated. “It’s been a rough few days.”

She didn’t dare look at him when she heard his feet shuffle, but a little bit of warmth clawed itself into her chest when they brought him closer, the sadness lacing the air fading.

“Enough with the apologies. And… I’d say you’ve had a rough few years.”

Her eyes flew to his, and her heart leaped when a crooked smile brightened his features.

Pulling at her hand, he led her back to the railing. “While I won’t pity you, I told you—you are entitled to be angry.”

Merrick let go of her hand to lean his arms on the railing, letting out a breath as he stared down the stained wood of the hull. “Gods know I’ve been angry for a long time. Furious at my fate and the decisions I made. But I can’t change the past. I can only use that anger to direct the future. You need to learn how to do that as well. How to direct your emotions before they direct you.”

Her eyes wandered from the pearly strands of hair the wind played with, to his delicately pointed ears, over his high cheekbones and slightly parted full lips, and that feeling that he understood her, perhaps better than anyone else, layered around her.

Shifting so she mirrored his position, she listened to the waves hitting the side of the ship.

---