The stars seemed to shift closer, the mountains peering over Aelin’s and Dorian’s shoulders, as she sliced her knife a third time, down her forearm. Deep and wide, skin splitting. To open the gate, she must become the gate. Erawan had begun the process of turning Kaltain Rompier into that gate—had put the stone within her arm not for safekeeping, but to prepare her body for the other stones. To turn her into a living Wyrdgate that he might control.
Oh
