Clearing the way. Right to the tent he’d been so close to reaching when Lorcan’s power had flared. A signal. That they’d found her. Or she had found them, it seemed. And when Rowan had seen her, first from the skies and then beside her, when he smelled the blood, both her own and others’, when he beheld the chains and the iron mask clamped over her face, when she was sobbing at the sight of him, terror and despair coating her scent— The rage that roiled through him had no space for mercy. No room for compassion.
