Broken Promise (The Broken Ones Book 3) (18 page)

He shook his head, his eyes so full of
pain her anger dimmed. "Why would you still want me when I have failed to
protect you?"

"Because you are worth it, and I
believe in you." She shook her head, not understanding why he felt so
little hope. "I don't want you to protect me. I don't need you to. What I
want," she continued passionately, "is for you to be the strong and
proud man I know you are and not let others push you down. What I want is for
you to fight by my side."

His lips turned up in a wry smile, and
he chuckled, his fingers tracing a line along her jaw. "Always so
fierce."

She refused to give up. "Answer
me," she said firmly. "Answer and I will wake up." She lowered
her voice, "Give me a reason to fight for you, for us."

"It would not be an easy
battle," he answered softly. Yet his eyes searched hers and he took a step
closer.

"Nothing worth fighting for is easy."
She looked to the side suddenly, panic rising as she watched the rainbows swirl
and the edges of her dream begin to fade.

Turning back, she opened her mouth to
urge him to hurry with his reply. She never got a word out.

His lips crushed against hers. Arms slid
around her, bringing her closer as she cupped his face in her hands, kissing
him just as passionately. Not seeing each other for months, and not knowing
when, or if, they'd see each other again put an almost violent urgency into
their frantic kisses.

Her heart swelled and heat rushed
through her entire body. She couldn't get enough of his lips. She couldn't get
close enough. He kissed her deeply, tongue parting her lips to taste the
sweetness of her mouth. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. She didn't want
it to end.

He pulled away, breathing heavily. His
eyes flicked up, and he sighed. He too saw the dream coming to an end.
"Promise me you will wake."

"I will."

"Promise me you will take no more
of it."

"I won't." She hesitated for a
moment. "I still expect you to keep your promise to me."

He smiled and shook his head in
amusement. "So persistent. I will try."

"That is all I ask." It would
have to do. Her eyes locked on his as he held her more tightly. "I love
you. I love you."

He bent his head and kissed her again
until the dream faded and she found herself alone in a world of rainbows. The
taste of him lingered on her lips. She closed her eyes, remembering.

Opening them once more, she looked
around and placed her hands on her hips. Despite her circumstances, a smile
crossed her lips.

Once again, he hadn't said the words.
Yet for now, her hope had been renewed. She would not give up on him. She would
fight to have him once again in her life.

Perhaps one day, he would have the
courage to fight for her, too.

For now, she had a promise to keep. It was
time to wake up. Color swirled around her as she thought herself awake, ordered
herself to. A new dream began, yet she ignored it, concentrating on breaking
free.

"Rot," she finally muttered.

Chapter 17

The Price of Freedom

Dreams were impossible to fight. They
were not a living thing. They didn't care. No matter what she did, they
continued on, one after another. Frustration grew into panic, which led to
despair. She knew her time was running out. If she didn't wake soon, she never
would.

Dying in her sleep was not an option.
When she died, whenever that may be, she wanted go down fighting.

She paused in her increasingly frantic struggles,
a distant melody catching her attention. It didn't seem to be coming from the
current dream. Again, it didn't matter what she did. She couldn't find the
source.

Frustrated and weary, she simply
listened for a time, ears straining in an attempt to make out the words. They
never came, but the singer sounded heartbreakingly sad. The man's voice, though
not one she recognized, wrapped around her, easing her frustration and pain. She
relaxed so much the Fey power held tightly within her began to escape, filling
her with warmth.

At some point the rainbows and dreams
abruptly stopped. It took her some time to realize this, her mind once more full
of foggy confusion. Floating in the dark of semi-consciousness, she fought to
take hold of any thought or memory.

Slowly she drifted up into wakefulness,
entering the realm in-between where she started to become aware of the world.

A hand rested gently on her head. A man
spoke softly. "Will you wake today?"

Though not reacting to the touch or
words, they pulled at her, tempting her into wakefulness. The world shifted,
other sounds teased her ears. Bed. She was in a bed. Someone else had just
moved from it.

The sound of striking flint and then a
warm glow hit her eyelids. Though on her back, her head faced the light to the
side. She could feel the weight of her hands across her stomach, the softness
of the sheets over her, even the bed and pillow cradling her, yet she couldn't
make any part of her body move.

Her eyes fluttered open and closed a few
times before she finally managed to hold them open. The blurred image of a man
standing with his back to her came partially into focus before they closed
again.

Confusion swirled through her thoughts
once more. Had he been…naked?

The bed heaved as he sat on its edge. She
heard faint sounds she eventually recognized as him pulling on pants, socks, and
boots.

By the time she managed to force her
eyes open again she saw him pulling on a shirt. It looked very much like the
one she'd worn in her dreams. The one she wore now? Had they been real?

She tried to focus, concentrating on
this stranger. What had Damon said? She was in no danger?

Even sitting, the man appeared tall. Wide,
well-muscled shoulders tapered to the narrow waist of a young man. Dark hair, she
wasn't sure if it was black or a dark brown in the low lamplight, hung in a
slightly wavy mess to his shoulders.

He adjusted his sleeves and then tipped
his head, pulling his hair from the shirt collar before running his fingers briskly
through it.

For a moment, she forgot to breathe.

On the back of his neck, hidden by his
hair, had been a rune. Even with her vision not working exactly as it should, she
knew it to be the same as Prince's. A glamor rune.

Her rescuer, or captor, was another Elf.

Panicking, she reached for Kei and
relief filled her to find the bond remained, though the absence of emotion
showed he slept. Knowing he was with her kept the panic at bay.

Closing her eyes, she tried to make
sense of everything. Elf, an Elf had her again. With a mental start, she
quickly ensured her mind remained guarded and then focused on keeping calm,
breathing normally. What would he do when he found her awake?

She cracked her eyes open slightly but
he didn't seem to have noticed her. Standing again, he put on a belt and filled
it with weapons from a dresser and the side table.

Closing her eyes quickly, she pretended
to still sleep. Her sluggish body worked in her favor, had she been herself she
doubted she could hide the rising panic and fear within her. The more she
thought, the more worried she became. Had her efforts to escape been for
nothing?

Listening carefully, she heard him move
about his side of the bed, and then around it. A door opened and closed.
Holding her breath, she waited for what felt like forever, but he didn't
return.

She opened her eyes again. The room spun
a bit, but everything looked much clearer this time. Turning her head, she
swept her gaze quickly around. Dressers, cabinets, tables, and shelves lined
the walls on this end of the room. Tall, thick bedposts rose from the bottom
corners of the bed. A canopy covered the top, with rods on the side. Craning
her head, she saw a thick burgundy curtain pulled back between the bedpost and
side table next to her.

A massive desk faced one of two doors. Her
brows drew together wondering where they went. The bedside lamp didn't show her
much else, just darkness beyond the desk, though she thought she saw the
outlines of more furniture.

More feeling spread through her body and
she tensed and relaxed her muscles, trying to quicken the process. Finally, she
could move her fingers and then her arms and legs.

Worry twisted her stomach. This was
taking too long. She needed to get away before he came back. Pushing off the
sheets took a great amount of effort, sitting up left her gasping for breath
and clutching her left side. She had no idea how much time had passed, but her
ribs remained cracked and broken enough to cause her severe pain.

Shivering in the cold room didn't help
them either. Her hands felt the uneven lumps of wrappings. Someone had bound
her ribs.

Turning, she slipped her legs off the
bed and then sat there for a time, catching her breath. She looked at her
hands. No chains, but her wrists remained bandaged. The bruises had faded, more
green now with only areas of blue and purple. Pink marks and scabs crossed her
knuckles and fingers. Biting her lip, she clenched her fists. How long had she
been here?

Perhaps the more important question, why
had an Elf helped her? Was this some other twisted plot to get to Prince?

The room spun and she gave her head a
quick little shake, trying to force her vision back into focus. The number of
questions whirling in her still foggy mind left her more confused and disoriented.

She concentrated on breathing, pushing
the pain away, and trying to clear her head. Even if she could escape, running
through the streets in such a state of undress would be a disaster. She
grimaced at her bruised bare legs. Where were her clothes? Maybe she could
steal a blanket from the bed, or attempt to raid his dresser for something.

A wave of dizziness washed over her.
"Wither me." Would she even be able to stand? "Rotting
elves," she muttered, rubbing her legs in an attempt to get more feeling
into them.

The door closest to her swung open
suddenly. Her head snapped up so quickly spots danced before her eyes.

The man stepped out, pulling the door
closed behind him. Glancing in her direction, he froze, surprise clearly etched
upon his face.

They stared at each other for a silent
moment. She noted he was indeed tall, his features more human, more rough, than
any Elf she'd seen before. With a strong nose and square jaw, dark brows
slashing sharp above piercing eyes, he looked threatening enough.

Her time had run out, but she had
surprise on her side. Springing to her feet, she set her sights on the second
door and ran.

Or would have, if her legs hadn't given
out after her first step. She landed hard on her forearms, pain spiking through
them, her knees, and her ribs. A muffled grunt escaped her lips, but she
gritted her teeth and tried to stand. When her body didn't cooperate, she
scrambled away from him, limbs awkward and feet slipping on the wood floor.

"Enough," he said, his husky voice
low and rough.

She lifted her head to look at him, but
continued to push herself away until she abruptly hit something. The side of
the desk. Well at least she'd made it that far…and the second door was right
across from it. Her eyes found it and then returned to his face.

"What are you doing?" He
frowned, not quite angry, but certainly cross.

He took a step toward her and she raised
an arm defensively in front of her.

His frown deepened and then he shook his
head wearily. "I won't hurt you."

A snorted breath of disbelief left her
before she could stop it. She didn't lower her arm, even when it started to
tremble. Clenching her teeth, she kept her head high.

"Tough little one, aren't you?"
He moved closer, stopping when she reared back, cracking the back of her head
off the desk. Raising his hands, he dropped into a crouch. "Skittish as a
filly, though," he said wryly.

Blinking back more pain, she tried to
bring him back into focus. Her arm shook wildly before it dropped, giving up
the fight.

Regarding her calmly, he finally shook
his head. "If you hadn't noticed, the chains are gone, and the shackles. I
had to call in a favor to get those off. Your wounds have been tended and
you've been made as comfortable as can be. You are safe here."

She wanted to believe him, but trusting
a stranger, another Elf, wasn't something she could do. Even so, she didn't
have much choice considering she could barely stand, never mind walk. It would
be best to at least pretend she did. With a slight nod, she indicated she
understood.

He continued to watch her, not moving.
Perhaps he didn't believe her either…or waited for her to speak.

"What happened?" Her raspy
voice startled both of them.

"You don't remember?"

Clearing her throat, she tried again. "No,
I remember," she said quietly. Her body tensed at the memories. "I
escaped. I escaped and fought and then…" She didn't know what happened
after she'd fought the Elves.

"You are safe here," he said
again.

"Am I?" She gritted her teeth
for a moment. "You're an Elf. How can I trust you aren't working with
them?"

His brows rose and then drew down in
confusion. "I assure you, I am not an Elf."

She snorted. Of course he'd deny it.
"Don't lie to me. I saw the rune."

He stared at her for a very long, tense
moment. "I see." He rose gracefully to his feet. "I will see to
some breakfast, and then we will talk." He gestured to the door near the
bed. "The privy is there, and water to clean up, if you wish."

The abrupt change in topic left her
confused. He'd reached the other door by the time she gathered another
question.

"Wait, what about my clothes?"

Stopping, he turned to face her again.
"Gone." He glanced at the oversized shirt she wore, his shirt she
imagined. "I'll send for something."

"But–"

"We will talk, after we eat,"
he insisted. "Should you need me, just call." Opening the door, he
stepped outside.

"I don't know your rotting
name!"

From the hall, he tipped his head, a
faint smile crossing his lips. "Roan."

The door closed but she continued to
stare at it.

"Roan," she whispered. The
pirate.

She didn't know what shocked her more,
that he now had her, or that the most feared man in Westport was an Elf. A
chill ran down her spine. She took a deep breath, wincing as pain flared across
her ribs.

Why would an Elf pretending to be a
pirate rescue her from the streets?

∞ ∞ ∞

After he left, she sat for a bit, trying
to get her mind to clear and body to work. Finally giving up, she cursed under
her breath and used the desk to pull herself to her feet. Was it the drugs
making her like this, or because she'd slept for so long?

She stumbled to the door like a drunk. Her
fingers fumbled with the latch. Finally getting it to open, she breathed a sigh
of relief seeing he'd left a lamp lit on a table by the door.

The table gave her something to hold
onto as she stepped inside. The room wasn't big. With a confused frown, she
noticed another door on the wall to her left, which she deduced opened to the
hall. Spotting a tub in the corner to her right, she guessed it was for
servants to come and bring water.

The wall helped her balance when she
reached the privy box. It even had a lid, which she lifted gingerly. The dark
hole surprised her, and she bent, looking down. Some sort of chute going
outside, small enough she wouldn't fit in it to escape through. At least it
kept the smell down.

Even so, having a privy indoors…pirate
life must be doing well for him to have such a luxury.

When finished, she made her way back to
the table by the door. A real mirror hung in a wooden frame above it.

Averting her eyes, she took advantage of
the pitcher and bowl there to wash her hands and face. The table even had soap,
brushes, and a jar of chew sticks. She took one of those, chewing the end until
it frayed before using it to brush the fuzz from her teeth.