Page 21 of A Bond so Fierce and Fragile
Kerym shuffled away from Lessia when a distressed sound left her sister, and from the way Frelina quieted and the chains clinked, Lessia understood Kerym was trying to hide her behind him.
But the wave of gratefulness that roiled inside her turned to glacial dread when her father spoke.
“Brother. Let them go. I’ll have them get as far away from Havlands as possible. You can take out your revenge on me instead. Kill me if you like. But let them go.”
“No!” she tried to scream, but the sound was barely more than a whisper.
Frelina also let out a muffled sound, although it was quickly clipped, almost as if Kerym had managed to stop her from speaking.
“Kill you… Perhaps,” Rioner mused. “But letting them go?”
The clanging of an expensive metal, not like the chains they were all bound in but like the gold that made up the king’scrown, had Lessia suspect he shook his head so violently the dangling gemstones adorning it clinked against each other.
“I don’t think so,” Rioner declared.
“Rioner,” her father snarled, his begging tone rising into a fury-touched one. “You’re starting a war you’ll lose control over. You will not survive this. With their bond, he’ll tear through this world to find her, and you know he’s strong enough to kill you.”
Lessia’s pounding heart stopped in the heavy silence that followed, and she could tell from the sharp gasp of air flying into her father’s lungs that so did his.
“He’ll find her,” Rioner repeated. “I must assume you’re referring to the dear Death Whisperer?”
The next silence seemed to stretch on for what felt like an eternity, the soft breaths from the people in the room the only sound, and Lessia’s heart remained quiet, as if its beats were too fragile to echo in the tension-filled room.
“So they’ve mated after all,” the king said, almost as if to himself.
The laugh that followed was like a bucket of cold water thrown over her head.
“The Death Whisperer mated to a mere halfling? Oh, how the gods must have laughed at that one. The embarrassment it must bring him…” The king cackled again, and Torkher’s blood-chilling laugh accompanied him, bouncing against the damp walls in the room.
“Tell me, halfling, how long did it take you to forgive him for all he’s done to you?” Rioner asked, a hint of humor playing in his tone.
While Lessia could tell her father stiffened again, the air filling with the taste of confusion, she refused to respond.
Refused to give in to this one thing.
She would break for the king.
Gladly. It was what she had been trying to do every hour of the past days.
But not for this. Because if Merrick heard this was the moment she broke…
She bit her lip so hard it muted the pain within her.
She couldn’t go there.
A hand laced around her arm, and she winced when the nails broke through her already sore skin.
“Your king asked you a question,” Torkher spat. “Answer.”
Lessia didn’t even bother giving him a shake; she only kept her chin up.
Then her head slammed to the side, the ringing in it joined by Kerym’s and her father’s outraged screams.
“Answer!” Torkher screamed into her face, his vile breath fanning over her.
She remained quiet.
Another blinding strike had the back of her head slam into the wall so hard the crack echoed in the room. Or perhaps it was all in her head. Lessia didn’t really know.
