Tonight, with only the cold fire of the stars for company, he begged her once more. A curl of wind sent his prayer drifting to those stars, to the waxing moon silvering the camp, the river, the mountains. He had killed his way across the world; he had gone to war and back more times than he cared to remember. And despite it all, despite the rage and despair and ice he’d wrapped around his heart, he’d still found Aelin. Every horizon he’d gazed toward, unable and unwilling to rest during those centuries, every mountain and ocean he’d seen and wondered what lay beyond … It had been her. It had
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